Another thought held a keen conjecture on Peter's haggard looks. She put out her hand to him, and, stooping over her, he kissed her with more tenderness than he always showed. Their engagement had left almost untouched the easy unsentimental attitude of earlier days. "Well," he said, and Katherine understood and resented somewhat the quick attack of the absorbing subject. She shook her head. "Bad news, Peter. Bad and very unexpected." Odd stood upright and looked at her. "Bad!" he repeated. "She refused him," Katherine said tersely, and her glance turned once more from the fire to Peter's face. He looked at her silently. "She is a foolish baby," added Katherine. "She refused him--definitely?" "Quite. She had to face the music last night, of course. Mamma and papa were rather--shabby--let us say, in their disinterested disappointment." Odd flushed a little at the cool cynicism of Katherine's tone. "She told me, when I removed her from the battlefield, that she doesn't love him and never will. So, of course, from every high and mighty point of view she is right, quite right." Katherine's eyes returned contemplatively to the fire. Odd was still silent. "She ought to love him, of course; that is where she is so foolish. I am afraid she has ruined her life. I love you, Peter, and he is every bit as good-looking as you are." Katherine glanced at him with a sad and whimsical smile. Peter, certainly, was looking rather dazed. He stooped once more and kissed her. "Thank you for loving me, Katherine." "You are welcome. It _is_ a pity, isn't it?" "Yes, it is"--Peter seated himself on the sofa, where Allan had sat the night before--"an awful pity," he added. "I am astonished. I thought she cared for him." "So did I." "She cares for some one else, perhaps." Odd locked his hands behind his head, and he too stared at the fire. "There is no one else she could care for. I know Hilda's outlook too well." "And she refused him," he repeated musingly. "Really, Peter, that sounds a little dull--not like you." Katherine smiled at him. "I feel dulled. I am awfully sorry. It would have been so satisfactory. And what's to be done now?" "That is for you to suggest, Peter. My power over Hilda is very limited. You may have more influence." "She might come and live with us." "That would be very nice," Katherine assented, "and it is very dear of you to suggest it." Peter was conscious of sudden terrors that prompted him to add with self-scorn-- "What would your mother do?" "Without her? I don't know."