Passion, like that which Katherine Bush knew, would have appeared as something absolutely shocking and horrible to her--indeed, she would have agreed with Mabel Cawber in considering it as most unladylike! The circumstance of the Christmas night dance had left a feeling of mystery with Gerard Strobridge, which did not detract from his interest in Katherine Bush. That some strong upheaval had taken place in this strange young woman's soul he did not doubt. But what in Heaven's name had caused it? Did it concern him?--Or was he only the medium connecting some memory?--He wished he could feel sure. Then there was the incident of his flowers; why had she worn them, and then thrown them from her as if they had burnt her? His rather tormenting thoughts kept him too frequent company--especially as the provoking girl seemed to have retired from sight, and except on rare occasions, before everyone, he never had the chance of even a word. Lady Garribardine's rheumatism was better, so Miss Bush had not even been required to pour out the tea. It was with a sigh of intense relief that he returned into the hall after tucking Läo and his wife into the motor en route for London town, on Saturday morning an hour or two before lunch. The hostess was not down to speed her parting guests; she was very much occupied in her boudoir, and they had gone thither to bid her farewell. As Mr. Strobridge mounted the stairs, he met Katherine coming out of the room with her arms full of papers and small parcels, and a couple of big books, which she had some ado to carry. "Let me help you," he said, eagerly--and she gave him the heavy volumes without a word. A sense of exasperation arose in him. He would not be flouted like this! He followed her to the old schoolroom, merely remarking on the way that now all the guests, except Colonel Hawthorne, had departed, he felt there was breathing space. Katherine seemed quite unconcerned and indifferent as to whether he did or did not; and she took his burden from him and thanked him absently, with a look towards the door evidently expecting him to go back again whence he came. But he showed no signs of moving. "Am I to be offered a chair on this my first call upon Miss Bush?" "It isn't a call--you helped me to carry the books. I am very busy to-day." "I don't care. I am here now, and I am going to stay--I shall tell my aunt how inhospitable and ungracious you are!" "Sneak!" and she began sorting the little parcels into a row, her sullen eyes smiling. "I always hated tell-tales at school." "So did I--but I could commit any crime to be with you. I have been tantalized all the week--Miss Bush not even seen at tea--and only glimpses of her scurrying along passages and up stairs!" "What then do you want with Miss Bush?--Have you some more charity business to do?"