"I was so glad to have your letter; I wanted to see you again dreadfully," she said, without reflection. She meant what she said, but she saw from his manner that she ought not to have said it. Any sentiment that was crudely expressed was always distasteful to him; and he at once dropped her hand, and pulled forward an arm-chair with a great show of courtesy. "Is that comfortable, or do you prefer a high one? I thought you might come, one day; but I hardly expected you so soon. It is rather wet, too, isn't it?" Something impelled her to meet his irritating self-assurance with ridicule. "Very wet," she replied demurely. "In fact, now I come to think of it, there are a great many reasons why I should not have come. But the one that brought me here, in spite of them all, was a matter of business, if you remember." If he minded being laughed at, he certainly did not show it, for his tone was much more natural when he answered her. "Oh, yes, about the school! It is not far from you,--near Paddington, in fact. It is rather a swagger place, I believe; Mrs. Downing is the widow of an old friend of mine, who was killed out in Africa, and she started this concern after his death. She knows nothing about education, but a great deal about etiquette, and as this is also the position of the mothers of most of her pupils, she has no difficulty in convincing them of her capabilities. She is quite flourishing now, I believe. Can you teach arithmetic?" They discussed the vacant appointment solemnly, with the result that Katharine agreed to accept it if Mrs. Downing approved of her. The salary was not large, but she had learnt by now not to be too particular, and it offered her an opening, at all events. "I am sure she will like you all right. I told her about your people, and so on, and a clergyman is always a guarantee in such cases. And now for tea." They talked about the historic associations of the Temple while the housekeeper was bringing in tea; and they talked very little about anything after she had left. Paul was in one of his unaccountable silent moods, and they were never conducive to conversation. He roused himself a little to show her some of his treasures,--an old bit of tapestry, some Japanese prints, a Bartolozzi; but the afternoon was not a success, and his depression soon communicated itself to Katharine. "I must be going," she said at last, after an awkward pause that he showed no signs of breaking. They stood for a moment in the middle of the room. "It was good of you to come like this," he said, with the slightly worried look he always wore in his morose moods. "I was afraid, perhaps, that I ought not to have asked you." Her questioning look invited him to continue. "Not being sure what day you would come, I was unable to provide a chaperon, don't you see? But, of course, if you don't mind, that doesn't matter." "Of course I don't mind," she said, with a reassuring smile. "Why should I? I know you so well, don't I?"