tly silent. In the silence they heard
distinctly steps descending the staircase, and Katharine went straight
to the door.

"Wait," Mr. Hilbery commanded. "I wish to speak to you--alone," he
added.

She paused, holding the door ajar.

"I'll come back," she said, and as she spoke she opened the door and
went out. They could hear her immediately speak to some one outside,
though the words were inaudible.

Mr. Hilbery was left confronting the guilty couple, who remained
standing as if they did not accept their dismissal, and the
disappearance of Katharine had brought some change into the situation.
So, in his secret heart, Mr. Hilbery felt that it had, for he could not
explain his daughter's behavior to his own satisfaction.

"Uncle Trevor," Cassandra exclaimed impulsively, "don't be angry,
please. I couldn't help it; I do beg you to forgive me."

Her uncle still refused to acknowledge her identity, and still talked
over her head as if she did not exist.

"I suppose you have communicated with the Otways," he said to Rodney
grimly.

"Uncle Trevor, we wanted to tell you," Cassandra replied for him. "We
waited--" she looked appealingly at Rodney, who shook his head ever so
slightly.

"Yes? What were you waiting for?" her uncle asked sharply, looking at
her at last.

The words died on her lips. It was apparent that she was straining her
ears as if to catch some sound outside the room that would come to her
help. He received no answer. He listened, too.

"This is a most unpleasant business for all parties," he concluded,
sinking into his chair again, hunching his shoulders and regarding the
flames. He seemed to speak to himself, and Rodney and Cassandra looked
at him in silence.

"Why don't you sit down?" he said suddenly. He spoke gruffly, but the
force of his anger was evidently spent, or some preoccupation had turned
his mood to other regions. While Cassandra accepted his invitation,
Rodney remained standing.

"I think Cassandra can explain matters better in my absence," he said,
and left the room, Mr. Hilbery giving his assent by a slight nod of the
head.

Meanwhile, in the dining-room next door, Denham and Katharine were
once more seated at the mahogany table. They seemed to be continuing a
conversation broken off in the middle, as if each remembered the precise
point at which they had been interrupted, and was eager to go on as
quickly as possible. Katharine, having interposed a short account of the
in