"She is rather rigid; about as hard on other people as she would be on herself. She could never do anything wrong." "I don't quite like _that_; being hard on other people, I mean. One could be quite sure about one's own wrongness, but how can one about other people's? It is rather uncharitable, isn't it, Katherine?" "She isn't very charitable, but she is very just. As for Lord Allan, he is a sort of type, and, therefore, not very entertaining." "A type of what?" "Oh, just the eldest son type; very handsome, very honest, very good, with a strong sense of responsibility. Jimmy Hope is just like him, which is a great pity, as one expects a difference in the younger son--more interest." Katharine went to sleep with a warmly comfortable sense of competence. She doubted whether many people saw things as clearly as she did. She was wakened by an unpleasant dreaming scream from Hilda. "What is the matter, Hilda?" She spoke crossly. "How you startled me." "Oh, such a horrid dream!" Hilda half sobbed. "How glad I am that it isn't so!" "What was it?" Katherine asked, still crossly; severity she thought the best attitude towards Hilda's fright. "About the river, down in the hole; I was choking, and my legs and arms were all tangled in roots." "Well, go to sleep now," Katherine advised. Hilda was obediently silent, but presently a small, supplicating voice was heard. "Katherine--I'm so sorry--don't be angry--might I come to you? I'm so frightened." "Come along," said Katherine, still severely, but she put her arms very fondly around her shivering sister, snuggled her consolingly and kissed her. "Silly little Hilda," she said. CHAPTER VI Three days before the arrival of Gladys le Breton, Mrs. Marchant, Lord Calverly, and Sir John (the Damians only did not accept Alicia's invitation), Mary Odd astonished her brother. She came into the library early one morning before breakfast. Odd was there, writing. "Peter," she said, "last night, before going to bed, I wrote to Mr. Apswith and accepted him." Mary always spoke to the point. Peter wheeled round his chair in amazement. "Accepted Mr. Apswith, Mary?" "Yes. I always intended to at some time, and I felt that the time had come." Mr. Apswith, a clever, wealthy M. P., had for years been in love with Miss Odd. Mary was now one-and-thirty, two years older than her brother, and people said that Mr. Apswith had fallen in love when she first came out twelve years ago. Mr. Apswith's patience, perseverance, and fidelity were certainly admirable, but Peter, like most people, had thought that as Mary had, so far, found no difficulty in maintaining her severe independence, it would, in all probability, never yield to Mr. Apswith's ardor.