"Are you generously offering me another form of charity, Mr. Odd? My distress was not conscious of an appeal." "You know your own value too well, Katherine, to ask me that. _I_ appeal." "Yet the apropos of your offer makes me smart. Another joy of poverty. One can't trust." "It was apropos because a man who loves you would not see you suffer needlessly." Peter, too, was sincere; he did not say "loved." "Shall I let you suffer needlessly?" asked Katherine, smiling a little. "I sha'n't, if that implies that you love me." "Suppose I do. And suppose I stand on my dignity. Pretend to distrust your motives. Refuse to be married out of pity?" "That sort of false dignity wouldn't suit you; you have too much of the real." "Would you be good to me, Mr. Odd?" "Very, very good, Katherine." Odd took her hand and kissed it, and Katherine's smile shone out in all its frank gayety. "I think I can make you happy, dear." "I think you can, Mr. Odd." "You must manage 'Peter' now." "I think you can, Peter," Katherine said obediently. "And Katherine--I would not have dared say this before, you would have flung it back at me as bribery--but I can give you weapons." "Yes, I shall be able to fight now." She looked up at him with her charming smile. "And you will help me, you must fight too. You must be great, Peter, great, _great!_" "With such a fiery little engine throbbing beside my laggard bulk, I shall probably be towed into all sorts of combats and come off victorious." They sat down side by side on the sofa. Katherine was a delightfully comfortable person; no change, but a pleasant development of relation seemed to have occurred. "You won't expect any flaming protestations, will you, Katherine," said Peter; "I was never good at that sort of thing." "Did you never flame, then?" "I fancy I flamed out in about two months--a long time ago; that is about the natural life of the feeling." "And you bring me ashes," said Katherine, rallying him with her smile. "You mustn't tease me, Katherine," said Peter. He found her very dear, and kissed her hand again. Part II HILDA. CHAPTER I "Well, Hilda, we have some news for you!" With these words, spoken in the triumphant tone of the news-breaker, the Captain greeted his daughter as she came into the drawing-room at half-past six. Odd had been paying his respects to his future parents-in-law, and was sitting near Mrs. Archinard's sofa. He rose to his feet as Hilda entered and looked at her, smiling a trifle nervously. "Guess what has happened, my dear," said the Captain, whose good humor was apparent, while Mrs. Archinard murmured, "_She_ would never guess. Hilda, only look at your hat in the mirror." It was windy, and Hilda's shabby little hat was on the back of her head. "What must I guess? Is it about you?" she asked, turning her sweet bewildered eyes from Odd to her father, to her mother, and back to Odd again. "Yes, about me and another person."