“Of course he will!” answered Katharine, with amazing certainty. “You’re all right, dear--now run!” she added, pushing her sister towards the door. “Do come to dinner, Charlie!” cried Mrs. Lauderdale, following her. “It’s so nice to see something of you!” “Oh, yes--she’ll come--but you mustn’t keep her, mamma--she’s awfully late as it is!” From a condition of apparently hopeless apathy, Katharine was suddenly roused to exert all her energies. It was two minutes to three as she closed the glass door behind her sister. Fortunately Ralston had not come before his time. “I suppose you’re going to work now, mamma?” Katharine suggested, doing her best to speak calmly, as she turned to her mother, who was standing in the door of the library. She had never before wished that Ralston were an unpunctual man, nor that her mother, to whom she was devotedly attached, were at the bottom of the sea. “Oh, yes! I suppose so,” answered Mrs. Lauderdale. “How delightful Charlotte was to-day, wasn’t she?” Her face was fresh and rested. She leaned against the doorpost as though deciding whether to go upstairs at once or to go back into the library. With a movement natural to her she raised her graceful arms, folding her hands together behind her head, and leaning back against the woodwork, looking lazily at Katharine as she did so. She felt that small difficulty, at the moment, of going back to the daily occupation after spending an exceptionally pleasant hour in some one’s company, which is familiar to all hard workers. Katharine stood still, trying to hide her anxiety. The clock must be just going to strike, she thought. “What’s the matter, child? You seem nervous and worried about something.” She asked the question with a certain curiosity. “Do I?” asked Katharine, trying to affect indifference. Mrs. Lauderdale did not move. In the half light of the doorway she was still very beautiful, as she stood there trying to make up her mind to go to her work. Katharine was in despair, and turned over the cards that lay in a deep dish on the table, reading the names mechanically. “Yes,” continued her mother. “You look as though you were expecting something--or somebody.” The clock struck, and almost at the same instant Katharine heard Ralston’s quick, light tread on the stone steps outside the house. She had a sudden inspiration. “There’s a visitor coming, mother!” she whispered quickly. “Run away, and I’ll tell Annie not to let him in.”