In due course Kate received the invitation. It was accompanied by a private letter from Charlie; and when she had read the two communications, she forfeited a month’s salary and quitted her situation. A few days had to be spent in preparing for the visit to so large and grand an establishment as she knew Balquhalloch to be; but in less than a week after hearing from Miss Stuart, Catharine Plantagenet left London for Scotland. IV.—THE COLLAPSE. The Princess was charmed with Catharine Plantagenet, who, in truth, was as gentle and true-hearted a girl as could be met with anywhere; but when she became fully aware of the deception to which she was a party, it was with the greatest difficulty that Charlie persuaded her to refrain from telling her proud hostess the secret of her birth. ‘Well,’ said Catharine, ‘under any circumstances I won’t consent to take advantage of your aunt’s weakness. I hate false pretences. Your aunt ought to do something for you, I confess, but let her do it with her eyes open.’ Ere long, however, the Princess, upon her own initiative, made a proposition to which even Catharine saw no objection. ‘My dear,’ she said one morning, ‘I am getting old, and since you have been here with me, I have begun to feel that I should not like to be without you. Now I know perfectly well that Charles will be glad to stay here for the present; so, why don’t you make up your minds to marry and stay here together? When I die, the castle and everything belonging to it will be his. You need never regard yourselves, therefore, as trespassers upon my hospitality.’ ‘And you really like to have me with you?’ asked Catharine. ‘Certainly, my dear.’ ‘For my own sake, I mean?’ added Catharine. ‘Yes, for your own sake, and quite apart even from the fact that Charles loves you. I shall speak to him about it.’ And speak to him she did. ‘You will be quieter and better off here than in London,’ she said; ‘and you will be able to mature your plans for the future. You and Catharine shall have a separate establishment for yourselves; there is plenty of room for all of us. And if you have any hesitation on the score of money matters—which, after all, trouble the highest as well as the lowest—I may set your mind at ease, my dear Charles, by telling you that I have determined to give Catharine on her wedding-day a hundred thousand pounds by way of jointure. When I die, the rest will be yours.’ ‘You are very good, aunt,’ exclaimed the king, who was fairly overcome by his relative’s liberality. ‘Yes; nowhere can we be happier than here. But let us be married quietly.’ ‘By all means! Father M‘Fillan shall perform the ceremony in the chapel. Get Catharine to name a day—the sooner the better.’