evertheless, he was so much distracted that his eye could hardly
follow the words on the paper. A moment later he heard them speak
distinctly of an engagement ring.

"I like rubies," he heard Katharine say.

"To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
And blown with restless violence round about
The pendant world...."

Mrs. Cosham intoned; at the same instant "Rodney" fitted itself to
"William" in Ralph's mind. He felt convinced that Katharine was engaged
to Rodney. His first sensation was one of violent rage with her for
having deceived him throughout the visit, fed him with pleasant old
wives' tales, let him see her as a child playing in a meadow, shared
her youth with him, while all the time she was a stranger entirely, and
engaged to marry Rodney.

But was it possible? Surely it was not possible. For in his eyes she was
still a child. He paused so long over the book that Mrs. Cosham had time
to look over his shoulder and ask her niece:

"And have you settled upon a house yet, Katharine?"

This convinced him of the truth of the monstrous idea. He looked up at
once and said:

"Yes, it's a difficult passage."

His voice had changed so much, he spoke with such curtness and even with
such contempt, that Mrs. Cosham looked at him fairly puzzled. Happily
she belonged to a generation which expected uncouthness in its men, and
she merely felt convinced that this Mr. Denham was very, very clever.
She took back her Shakespeare, as Denham seemed to have no more to say,
and secreted it once more about her person with the infinitely pathetic
resignation of the old.

"Katharine's engaged to William Rodney," she said, by way of filling in
the pause; "a very old friend of ours. He has a wonderful knowledge of
literature, too--wonderful." She nodded her head rather vaguely. "You
should meet each other."

Denham's one wish was to leave the house as soon as he could; but the
elderly ladies had risen, and were proposing to visit Mrs. Hilbery in
her bedroom, so that any move on his part was impossible. At the same
time, he wished to say something, but he knew not what, to Katharine
alone. She took her aunts upstairs, and returned, coming towards him
once more with an air of innocence and friendliness that amazed him.

"My father will be back," she said. "Won't you sit down?" and she
laughed, as if now they might share a perfectly friendly laugh at the
tea-party.

But Ralph made no attempt to seat himself.

"I m