and indulgent toward this gentle
helpless creature, who seemed so many years younger than herself, though
barely two, in fact. That she was Errington's _fiancee_ gave her a
curious interest in Katherine's eyes. She would willingly have done him
all possible good; she was strangely attracted to the man she had
cheated. There was a simple natural dignity about him that pleased her
imagination, yet she almost dreaded to speak to him, lest the very tones
of her voice, the encounter of their eyes, should betray her.

At last Errington, looking at his watch, declared that as the rubber was
over, he must say good-night.

"What, are you not staying here to-night?" said Colonel Ormonde.

"No; I have a good deal of letter-writing to get through to-morrow, so
did not accept Mrs. Ormonde's kind invitation."

"You'll have a deuced cold drive. Come over on Thursday, will you? Old
Wray, the banker, is to dine here, and one or two Monckton worthies.
Stay till Tuesday or Wednesday. The next meets are Friday and Monday, on
this side of the county. There will not be many more this season."

"Thank you; I shall be very happy." He crossed to where Lady Alice still
sat placidly at work, and made his adieux in a low tone, holding her
hand for a moment longer than mere acquaintanceship warranted, and
having exchanged good-nights, left the room, followed by his host.

There was a good fire in Katherine's bedroom, and having declined the
assistance of Mrs. Ormonde's maid, she put on her dressing-gown and sat
down beside it to think. She was still quivering with the nervous
excitement she had striven so hard and so successfully to conceal.

When Mrs. Ormonde had given her rapid explanation of who Errington was,
and without a pause presented him, Katherine felt as if she must drop at
his feet. Indeed, she would have been thankful if a merciful
insensibility had made her impervious to his questioning eyes. _She_
well knew who he was.

He was the real owner of the property she now possessed. The will she
had suppressed bequeathed all John Liddell's real and personal property
to Miles Errington, only son of his old friend Arthur Errington, of
Calton Buildings, London, E. C., and Calcutta. She, the robber, stood in
the presence of the robbed. Did he know by intuition that she was
guilty? How grave and questioning his eyes were! Why did he look at her
like that? How he would despise her and forbid his affianced wife to be
outraged by her prese