r than before to Katharine's side. The music went on. Under cover
of some exquisite run of melody, he leant towards her and whispered
something. She glanced at her father and mother, and a moment later left
the room, almost unobserved, with Rodney.

"What is it?" she asked, as soon as the door was shut.

Rodney made no answer, but led her downstairs into the dining-room on
the ground floor. Even when he had shut the door he said nothing, but
went straight to the window and parted the curtains. He beckoned to
Katharine.

"There he is again," he said. "Look, there--under the lamp-post."

Katharine looked. She had no idea what Rodney was talking about. A vague
feeling of alarm and mystery possessed her. She saw a man standing on
the opposite side of the road facing the house beneath a lamp-post. As
they looked the figure turned, walked a few steps, and came back again
to his old position. It seemed to her that he was looking fixedly at
her, and was conscious of her gaze on him. She knew, in a flash, who the
man was who was watching them. She drew the curtain abruptly.

"Denham," said Rodney. "He was there last night too." He spoke sternly.
His whole manner had become full of authority. Katharine felt almost
as if he accused her of some crime. She was pale and uncomfortably
agitated, as much by the strangeness of Rodney's behavior as by the
sight of Ralph Denham.

"If he chooses to come--" she said defiantly.

"You can't let him wait out there. I shall tell him to come in." Rodney
spoke with such decision that when he raised his arm Katharine expected
him to draw the curtain instantly. She caught his hand with a little
exclamation.

"Wait!" she cried. "I don't allow you."

"You can't wait," he replied. "You've gone too far." His hand remained
upon the curtain. "Why don't you admit, Katharine," he broke out,
looking at her with an expression of contempt as well as of anger, "that
you love him? Are you going to treat him as you treated me?"

She looked at him, wondering, in spite of all her perplexity, at the
spirit that possessed him.

"I forbid you to draw the curtain," she said.

He reflected, and then took his hand away.

"I've no right to interfere," he concluded. "I'll leave you. Or, if you
like, we'll go back to the drawing-room."

"No. I can't go back," she said, shaking her head. She bent her head in
thought.

"You love him, Katharine," Rodney said suddenly. His tone had lost
something of its stern