rotested almost plaintively when Katharine proposed to go upstairs.

"I've something that I want to say to you in PRIVATE," she said,
hesitating reluctantly upon the threshold of her ambush.

"The drawing-room is empty--"

"But we might meet your mother upon the stairs. We might disturb your
father," Mrs. Milvain objected, taking the precaution to speak in a
whisper already.

But as Katharine's presence was absolutely necessary to the success
of the interview, and as Katharine obstinately receded up the kitchen
stairs, Mrs. Milvain had no course but to follow her. She glanced
furtively about her as she proceeded upstairs, drew her skirts together,
and stepped with circumspection past all doors, whether they were open
or shut.

"Nobody will overhear us?" she murmured, when the comparative sanctuary
of the drawing-room had been reached. "I see that I have interrupted
you," she added, glancing at the flowers strewn upon the floor. A
moment later she inquired, "Was some one sitting with you?" noticing a
handkerchief that Cassandra had dropped in her flight.

"Cassandra was helping me to put the flowers in water," said Katharine,
and she spoke so firmly and clearly that Mrs. Milvain glanced nervously
at the main door and then at the curtain which divided the little room
with the relics from the drawing-room.

"Ah, Cassandra is still with you," she remarked. "And did William send
you those lovely flowers?"

Katharine sat down opposite her aunt and said neither yes nor no. She
looked past her, and it might have been thought that she was considering
very critically the pattern of the curtains. Another advantage of
the basement, from Mrs. Milvain's point of view, was that it made it
necessary to sit very close together, and the light was dim compared
with that which now poured through three windows upon Katharine and
the basket of flowers, and gave even the slight angular figure of Mrs.
Milvain herself a halo of gold.

"They're from Stogdon House," said Katharine abruptly, with a little
jerk of her head.

Mrs. Milvain felt that it would be easier to tell her niece what
she wished to say if they were actually in physical contact, for the
spiritual distance between them was formidable. Katharine, however, made
no overtures, and Mrs. Milvain, who was possessed of rash but heroic
courage, plunged without preface:

"People are talking about you, Katharine. That is why I have come this
morning. You forgive me for saying