"Oh, surely you know what I mean. It would be no harm; I am the only person it could hurt, and it is I that am asking you to do it. Oh! Lilias, it is only to make Mrs. Stormont believe that it is you that Philip is after, and not me." "Katie, are you crazy? Me that Philip is--after! Oh! how can you say such vulgar things?" "Why should it be vulgar?" said Katie, growing pale at this reproach; "it is true. Philip has been after me as long as I can remember. What would you have me say--in love? Oh! but to say that just gives you a red face--it makes your heart jump. It sounds like poetry." "And so it should, Katie; if it does not sound like poetry, it cannot be true." "It is very well for you to say that; in the first place, you have no one--after you; at least, not as yet. And then you are a grander person than I am. It might suit you to talk of love, every day, but it would not suit me--oh, no! But that does not alter the thing; or, if you like to change the word, I am sure I am not heeding: if you will only, only---- Oh! Lilias, for the sake of friendship, and because we all knew each other when we were little things--if you would only let Mrs. Stormont think that he was in love with you!" A flush of somewhat angry pride came over the face of Lilias. She drew her arm away from Katie's clinging grasp, which scarcely would consent to be detached. "I don't know what you mean. I think you must want to insult me," she cried. "What good would it do me to insult you?" cried Katie, reproachfully. "Instead of that I am just on my knees to you. Oh! don't you see what I mean? We want to gain a little time. If _she_ does not consent, nobody will consent, nor even mamma, and never, never papa. They will not go against _his_ mother. And Philip is very dour: he would quarrel with her, if it came to a struggle. That is what I am frightened for. If she thinks it is you, she will never stop him from coming. She will be so pleased, she will do whatever he likes, and we will be able to meet almost every day, and no suspicion. Oh! Lilias, what harm would it do you?" cried Katie, clasping her hands. Lilias was taken entirely by surprise. Her action in the midst of the dance had been quite unpremeditated. She had been struck by sudden pity to see Philip so dark and gloomy, and little Katie, in her excitement, so near to self-betrayal. She looked with dismay now at the little pleading face, so childish, yet occupied with thoughts so different from those of a child. To think the elder ladies, Katie's mother, her own sisters, should be so near and so little aware what was passing. "How could I pretend anything like that?" she said. "I would be ashamed. I could not do it. And what would it come to in the end?" "It would all come right in the end, if we only could have a little time," said Katie. "Oh, Lilias, here we are at the shore. Just say yes, or I will break my heart."