That was all--not another word did she say; but Dr. Burnet gave her a quick look, and he knew as well as the reader knows what had happened. The Rector, then, had struck his blow. No doubt it was by deliberate purpose that he had chosen a day threatening snow, when nobody was likely to interrupt him. And he had made his explanation and it had not been well received. The doctor divined all this and his heart gave a jump of pleasure, though Katherine had not said a word, and indeed had not looked at him, but stood steadily with a blank countenance in which there was nothing to be read, gazing out upon the snow. Sometimes a blank countenance displays more than the frankest speech. “He is a handsome man--for his time of life,” Dr. Burnet said, he could not tell why. “Yes?” said Katherine, as if she were waiting for further evidence; and then she added, “It is droll to think of that as being a quality of the Rector--just as you would say it of a boy.” “Do you think that handsome is as handsome does, Miss Katherine? I should not have expected that of you. I always thought you made a great point of good looks.” “I like nice-looking people,” she said, and in spite of herself gave a glance aside at the doctor, who in spite of those fine teeth and very good eyes and other points of advantage, could not have been called handsome by the most partial of friends. “You are looking at me,” he said with a laugh, “and the reflection is obvious, though perhaps it is only my vanity that imagines you to have made it. I am not much to brag of, I know it. I am very ’umble. A man who knows he is good-looking must have a great advantage in life to begin with. It must give him so much more confidence wherever he makes his appearance--at least for the first time.” “Do you think so?” she said. “I should think one would forget it so quickly, both the possessor himself and those who look at him. If people are _nice_ you think of that and not of their beauty, unless----” “Unless what, Miss Katherine? You can’t think how interesting this talk is to me. Tell me something on which an ugly man can rest and take courage. You are thinking of John Wilkes’ famous saying that he only wanted half-an-hour’s start of the handsomest man----” “Who was John Wilkes?” said Katherine with the serenest ignorance. “I suppose one of the men one ought to know; but then I know so little. After a year of the Mutual Improvement Society----” “Don’t trouble about that,” cried the doctor, “but my ambulance classes are really of the greatest use. I do hope you will attend them. Suppose there was an accident before your eyes--on the lawn there, and nobody within reach--what should you do?” “Tremble all over and be of use to nobody,” Katherine said with a shudder. “That is just what I want to obviate--that is just what ought to be obviated. You, with your light touch and your kind heart and your quick eye----”