last Monday. Mr.
Errington, Miss Liddell!"

"I have already the pleasure of knowing Miss Liddell," he returned, with
a grave smile and stately bow, as he took the hand Katherine
hesitatingly held out.

"Oh, indeed; I was not aware of it." Errington stood talking with Mrs.
Needham, or, rather, answering her rapid questions respecting a variety
of subjects, until she suddenly recognized some one to whom she was
imperatively compelled to speak. With a hasty, "Will you be so good as
to take Miss Liddell to her friends?" she darted away with surprising
lightness and rapidity, considering her size and solidity.

"Would you like to go upstairs?" asked Errington.

"If you please." Katherine was quivering with pain and pleasure at
finding herself thus virtually alone with the man whose image haunted
her in spite of her constant determined efforts to banish it from her
mind.

On the first landing was a conservatory prettily lit and decorated, and
larger than those ordinarily appended to London houses. "Suppose we rest
here," said Errington. "From the quiet which reigns above, I think some
one is reciting and that is not an exhilarating style of amusement."

"I should think not. I have never heard any one attempt to recite in
England."

"May you long be preserved from the infliction! There are very few who
can make recitation endurable."

After some enquiries for Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde, and a few
observations on the beautiful, abundant flowers, Errington said: "Won't
you sit down? If it is not unpleasant to you, I should like to improve
this occasion, as I rarely have an opportunity of seeing you."

Katherine complied, and sat down on a settee which was behind a central
group of tall feathery ferns. She was another creature from the bright
and somewhat coquettish girl who was always ready to answer De Burgh or
Colonel Ormonde with keen prompt wit. Silent, downcast, scarcely able to
raise her eyes to Errington's, yet too fascinated to resist his wish to
continue their interview.

"I am very glad to meet you here," began Errington in his calm,
melodious voice. "It is so much better for you to mix with your kind; it
has a wholesome, humanizing influence, and may I venture to say that you
are inclined to be morbid?"

"Can you wonder?" said Katherine, soft and low.

"Yes, I do. There is no reason why you should not be bright and happy,
and enjoy the goods the gods--"

"No," she interrupted, playing nervously with the