‘No, but one has eyes,’ said Mrs. Thornburgh hastily. ‘William and I have seen it from the very first day. And we are both certain that on Tuesday she made him understand in some way or other that she wouldn’t marry him, and that is why he went off to Ullswater, and why he made up his mind to go south before his time is up.’ ‘Tuesday?’ cried Mrs. Leyburn. ‘In that walk, do you mean, when Catherine looked so tired afterward? You think he proposed in that walk?’ She was in a maze of bewilderment and excitement. ‘Something like it--but if he did, she said “No;” and what I want to know is _why_ she said “No.”’ ‘Why, of course, because she didn’t care for him!’ exclaimed Mrs. Leyburn, opening her blue eyes wider and wider. ‘Catherine’s not like most girls; she would always know what she felt, and would never keep a man in suspense.’ ‘Well, I don’t somehow believe,’ said Mrs. Thornburgh boldly, ‘that she doesn’t care for him. He is just the young man Catherine might care for. You can see that yourself.’ Mrs. Leyburn once more laid down her knitting and stared at her visitor. Mrs. Thornburgh, after all her meditations, had no very precise idea as to _why_ she was at that moment in the Burwood living-room bombarding Mrs. Leyburn in this fashion. All she knew was that she had sallied forth determined somehow to upset the situation, just as one gives a shake purposely to a bundle of spillikins on the chance of more favorable openings. Mrs. Leyburn’s mind was just now playing the part of spillikins, and the vicar’s wife was shaking it viciously, though with occasional qualms as to the lawfulness of the process. ‘You think Catherine does care for him?’ resumed Mrs. Leyburn tremulously. ‘Well isn’t he just the kind of man one would suppose Catherine would like?’ repeated Mrs. Thornburgh, persuasively: ‘he is a clergyman, and she likes serious people; and he’s sensible and nice and well-mannered. And then he can talk about books, just like her father used--I’m sure William thinks he knows everything! He isn’t as nice-looking as he might be just now, but then that’s his hair and his fever, poor man. And then he isn’t hanging about. He’s got a living, and there’d be the poor people all ready, and everything else Catherine likes. And now I’ll just ask you--did you ever see Catherine more--more--_lively_--well, I know that’s not just the word, but you know what I mean--than she has been the last fortnight?’ But Mrs. Leyburn only shook her head helplessly. She did not know in the least what Mrs. Thornburgh meant. She never thought Catherine doleful, and she agreed that certainly ‘lively’ was not the word.