flowers in her
bouquet; "not given by the gods! Stolen from you!" She did not raise her
eyes as she spoke.

"I do beg you to put that incident out of your mind. We have arranged
the question of succession, as only I had a right to do. No one else
need know, and you will, I am sure, make a most excellent use of what is
now really yours. Forget the past, and allow me to be your friend."

"I am always thinking of you," she said, almost in a whisper. "Yet it is
always a trial to meet you. I think I would rather not. Tell me," with a
sudden impulse of tenderness and contrition, looking up to him with
humid eyes, "are you well and happy? How have you borne the terrible
change in your life?"

"I am perfectly well and quite happy," returned Errington, with a slight
smile. "The terrible change, as you term it, has affected me very
little. I find real work most exhilarating, and slight success is sweet.
Since I knew that the tangle of my poor father's affairs was
satisfactorily unravelled, I have been at ease, comparatively. Life has
many sides. I miss most my horses."

"Ah, yes, you must miss them! Well, from what I hear, you seem to be
making a place for yourself in literature. I am so glad!"

"Thank you. And you, may I ask, what are your plans?"

"If you are so good as to care, I am going to take a house and make a
home for myself and my little nephews. Without any formal agreement,
Mrs. Ormonde leaves them very much to me. They are a great interest to
me. And as you are so kind in wishing me to be happy and not morbid, I
will try to forget. I think I could be happier if you would promise me
something."

"What?"

"If ever--" She hesitated; her voice trembled. "If you ever want
anything," she hurried on, nervously, "anything, even to the half of my
kingdom, you will deign to accept it from me?"

"I will," said Errington, with a kind and, as Katherine imagined, a
condescending smile.

"He thinks me a weak, impulsive child, who must be forgiven because she
is scarcely responsible," she said to herself.

"And this preliminary settled, you will admit me to the honor of your
acquaintance?"

"Oh, Mr. Errington, do not think me ungrateful. But can you not
understand that, good and generous as you are, your presence overwhelms
me?"

"Then I will not intrude upon you. Gently and very gravely I accept your
decree."

They were silent for a moment; then Katherine said, "I was sure you
would understand me." As she spoke