And what was Kate to do? It was such a strange sensation to see Fred Huntley, a man of the world, standing there pleading before her, driven half mad. Was it possible? If it had been any other man indeed. But Fred! And his voice was full of emotion, his hands trembled, he pleaded with an earnestness that filled her with mingled pity and curiosity and amaze. “Oh, hush, and don’t think any more of it,” she said. “If you will forget it, I shall. Am I one to make people unhappy? Give me your arm back to the drawing-room, and let us say no more about it. I must not stay longer with you here.” “I will take you back to the drawing-room,” he said, “and if you say I am to give up hope, I will do it; but, Kate, don’t fix my fate till you know a little better. I am so willing, so very willing, to wait. All I want is that you should know I am here utterly at your command--and you won’t wring my heart talking of _him_? Yes, do--wring my heart as you please, but don’t send me away. I am willing to wait for my answer as long as you have the heart to keep me--only don’t send me away.” “Oh! how can you speak of an answer?” cried Kate, under her breath. They were on the threshold of the lighted drawing-room by this time, and perhaps he did not hear that faint protestation. He took her to her seat, not with the covert care which he had been lavishing upon her for so long, but with all the signs of the tenderest devotion. She herself, being excited and distracted by what had just passed, was not aware of the difference; but everybody else was. And they had been a long time together in the conservatory, quite too long for an interview between an engaged young lady and a man who was not her betrothed. And there was a flush upon Kate’s cheeks, and Fred was eager and excited, and kept near her, without any pretence of making himself generally agreeable. And she looked half afraid of him, and would not dance any more--two signs which were very striking. “Depend upon it, something is going on in that quarter,” one of the elder ladies said to the other. “Little jilt!” said the second; and if Lady Winton had been there, who felt herself entitled to speak, Kate would no doubt have heard a great deal more about it before she escaped to her own room to try and realise what it was. CHAPTER XXIX.