It was longer than he anticipated, but was suddenly sprung upon him one evening after an agonising day, when again and again Kate had had to fight hard to master the fierce desire to get away from the terrible solitude which seemed to crush her down. She knew that she was unwell from the pressure of her solitary life upon her nerves; the thoughts which troubled her magnified themselves; and now with terrible force came the insistent feeling that she had behaved like a weak child in not bravely maintaining her position at her uncle's house, and forcing him to fulfill his duty of protector to his brother's child. "Is it too late? Am I behaving like a child now?" she asked herself, and at last with a wild outburst of excitement she determined that her present life must end. She had calmed down a little just before Garstang returned that evening, and the recollection of his chivalrous treatment and fatherly attention to her lightest wants made her shrink from declaring that in spite of everything she must have some change; for, as she had told herself in her fit of excitement that afternoon, if she did not she would go mad. She was very quiet during dinner, and he carefully avoided interrupting the fits of thoughtfulness in which from time to time she was plunged, but an hour later, when he came after her to the library from his glass of wine, he saw that her brows were knit and that the expected moment had come. "Tired, my dear?" he said, as he subsided into his easy chair. "Very, Mr Garstang," she said, quickly; and the excited look in her eyes intensified. "Well, I don't like parting from you, my child," he said; "I have grown so used to your bright conversation of an evening, and it is so restful to me, but I must not be selfish. Go to bed when you feel so disposed. It is the weather, I think. The glass is very low." "No," said Kate quickly, "it is not that; it is this miserable suspense which is preying upon me. Oh, guardian, guardian, when is all this dreadful life of concealment to come to an end?" "Soon, my child, soon. But try and be calm; you have been so brave and good up to now; don't let us run risks when we are so near success." "You have spoken to me like that so often, and--and I can bear it no longer. I must, at any risk now, have it put an end to." "Ah!" he sighed, with a sad look; "I am not surprised to hear you talk so. You have done wonders. I would rather have urged you to be patient a little longer, my dear, but I agree with you; it is more than a bright young girl can be expected to bear. I have noticed it, though you have made such efforts to conceal it; the long imprisonment is telling upon your health, and makes you fretful and impatient." "And I have tried so hard not to be," she cried, full of repentance now.