ity be explanatory news in the morning,
and resolved to make my usual visit to the Brisbane family.

To my surprise, Kate received me cordially, and with no other allusion
to the unpleasantness of the night before than a demure remark that she
was afraid she had offended me.

"Let us not refer to it at all," I said, "and thus avoid making idiots
of ourselves."

"I am glad you came to-night," she remarked, after a moment's silence,
"for I wanted to tell you of the change we are going to make."

A little pang darted through me. It was said so seriously.

"What is it, my dear," I asked, trying to be as affectionate as if the
conditions had not changed.

"My father and I have determined to go to Europe."

"To Europe!" I repeated, aghast. "You surely do not mean it?"

"Yes," resolutely. "He wanted to consult you about it, but was afraid
you would disagree with his plans."

"And when did he make up his mind to take this sudden move?"

"This morning."

"And you intend to go with him?"

"Yes, and I was going to ask you to go, too."

"When do you propose to go?"

"Immediately."

It was evident to my mind now that this old man was a panic-stricken
monomaniac, and had infected his daughter with his fears.

"Kate," I said, as I took her by her hands and pulled her to the sofa
beside me, "you are running away from something; it is not from me, is
it?"

"I want you to go with us," she answered.

"But you knew when you asked me that I could not go so suddenly. You
expected me to refuse."

"No," she said, "I expect you to consent."

"Be careful. In a moment of bravado I may take you at your word, at any
cost!"

She caught hold of me. "Do," she said, tremulously, and I felt a little
shiver in her hand. "Do, do."

"I would rather go with you than lose you," I said at a hazard, "and if
you are determined to go, I believe I will accompany you if your father
will consent."

"We are determined," she calmly replied.

"But I must put my affairs in order," I suggested.

"How many hours will it take you?"

"Hours?" I repeated. "You would not like to start to-night, surely?"

"Yes," she answered, "I would gladly start to-night."

My patience was giving way very fast at this imperturbable obduracy.
"Perhaps," I said, "you will give me some adequate reason for a haste
that I cannot comprehend."

She did not answer. She was listening, with her head averted, and she
held up her hand for me to listen also, as if