exactly
as the feet of a Persian cat stepping among China ornaments. For the
second time that day Mary felt herself baffled by something inscrutable
in the character of a person to whom she felt herself much attracted.
She thought that if she were engaged to Katharine, she, too, would
find herself very soon using those fretful questions with which William
evidently teased his bride. And yet Katharine's voice was humble.

"I wonder how you find the time to know all about pictures as well as
books?" she asked.

"How do I find the time?" William answered, delighted, Mary guessed, at
this little compliment. "Why, I always travel with a notebook. And I ask
my way to the picture gallery the very first thing in the morning. And
then I meet men, and talk to them. There's a man in my office who knows
all about the Flemish school. I was telling Miss Datchet about the
Flemish school. I picked up a lot of it from him--it's a way men
have--Gibbons, his name is. You must meet him. We'll ask him to lunch.
And this not caring about art," he explained, turning to Mary, "it's one
of Katharine's poses, Miss Datchet. Did you know she posed? She pretends
that she's never read Shakespeare. And why should she read Shakespeare,
since she IS Shakespeare--Rosalind, you know," and he gave his queer
little chuckle. Somehow this compliment appeared very old-fashioned and
almost in bad taste. Mary actually felt herself blush, as if he had said
"the sex" or "the ladies." Constrained, perhaps, by nervousness, Rodney
continued in the same vein.

"She knows enough--enough for all decent purposes. What do you women
want with learning, when you have so much else--everything, I should
say--everything. Leave us something, eh, Katharine?"

"Leave you something?" said Katharine, apparently waking from a brown
study. "I was thinking we must be going--"

"Is it to-night that Lady Ferrilby dines with us? No, we mustn't be
late," said Rodney, rising. "D'you know the Ferrilbys, Miss Datchet?
They own Trantem Abbey," he added, for her information, as she looked
doubtful. "And if Katharine makes herself very charming to-night,
perhaps'll lend it to us for the honeymoon."

"I agree that may be a reason. Otherwise she's a dull woman," said
Katharine. "At least," she added, as if to qualify her abruptness, "I
find it difficult to talk to her."

"Because you expect every one else to take all the trouble. I've seen
her sit silent a whole evening," he said, turni