search her face as
if to discover some hidden meaning.

"Do you mean me to take you seriously, Miss Liddell?"

"Quite. Moreover, I fear my cousin means to demand the arrears of
income--income which I have spent."

"But the fellow must be an impostor. Your man of business, Newton, will
never yield to his demands. He must prove his case."

"I think he has proved it. Mr. Newton recognized him at the first
glance; and he bears a strong resemblance to his father. I feel he is
the man he asserts himself to be."

"Do you intend to give up without a struggle? What account does this
intruder give of himself?"

Katherine gave him a brief sketch of the story, speaking with firmness
and composure.

"What an infernal shame!" cried De Burgh, when she ceased speaking. "I
wish I had had a chance of sending a bullet through his head, and as
sure as there is a devil down below I'd have verified the report of his
death! Why, what is to be done?"

"I still faintly hope Mr. Newton may persuade him to forego his first
demand for the restoration of those moneys I have spent. If so, I am not
quite penniless, and can hope to-- At all events, I thought it but right
to give you early information, as--"

"Why?" interrupted De Burgh (for she hesitated), throwing himself on the
ottoman and leaning against the arm which divided the seats, till his
long dark mustaches nearly touched the coils of her hair. "Why?" he
repeated, as she did not answer immediately. "I know well enough. It is
your loyalty that makes you wish to open a way of escape to the friend
who is credited with seeking your fortune. I see it all."

"You can assign any motive you like, Mr. De Burgh, but I thought--I
wished--I believed it better to let you know; for I shall always
consider you my friend, even if we do not meet," said Katherine, a good
deal unhinged by the excitement and distress he displayed.

"Meet? why, of course we shall meet! Do you think anything in heaven or
earth would make me give up the attempt, hopeless as it may seem, to win
you? I know you don't care a rap for me now, but I cannot, dare not
despair. I've too much at stake. There is the awful sting of this
misfortune. Even if you, by some blessed intervention of Providence,
were ready to marry me, I don't see how I could drag you into such a sea
of trouble. Besides, there's old De Burgh; he must be kept in
good-humor. By Heaven! this miserable want of money is the most utter
degradation--irresist