“I do not think either of us has been so accustomed to the attentions of a maid as not to be able to do without one,” returned Katherine, smiling.

“You know I always had a maid in India,” said Mrs. Ormonde, with an air of superiority.  “Don’t be long over your toilet; Ormonde’s cardinal virtue is punctuality.”

In spite of the hindrance of her nephew’s help, Katherine managed to reach the drawing-room before Lady Alice or the master of the house.  Mrs. Ormonde was talking to an elderly gentleman in clerical attire beside the fireplace, and at some distance a tall, dignified-looking man was reading a newspaper.  Mrs. Ormonde was most becomingly dressed in black satin, richly trimmed with lace and jet—­a brilliant contrast to Katherine, in thick dull silk and crape, her snowy neck looking all the more softly white for its dark setting:  the only relief to her general blackness was the glinting light on her glossy, wavy, chestnut brown hair.

“You have been very quick, dear,” said the hostess.  “I am going to send you in to dinner,” she added, in a low tone, “with Mr. Errington, our neighbor.  He is the head of the great house of Errington in Calcutta, and the fiance, of Lady Alice; but Colonel Ormonde must take her in.  Mr. Errington!” raising her voice.  The gentleman thus summoned laid down his paper and came forward.  “Let me introduce you to my sister, Miss Liddell.”  Mr. Errington bowed, rather a stately bow, as he gazed with surprised interest at the large soft eyes suddenly raised to his, then quickly averted, the swift blush which swept over the speaking face turned toward him, the indescribable shrinking of the graceful figure, as if this stranger dreaded and would fain avoid him.  It was but for a moment; then she was herself again, and the door opening to admit Lady Alice, Errington hastened to greet her with chivalrous respect, and remained beside her chair until Colonel Ormonde entered with the butler, who announced that dinner was ready.

CHAPTER XIV.

IN THE TOILS.

The drawing and dining rooms at Castleford were at opposite sides of a large square hall, and even in the short transit between them Errington felt instinctively that Miss Liddell shrank from him.  The tips merely of her black-gloved fingers rested on his arm, while she kept as far from him as the length of her own permitted.  At table her host was on her right, and Lady Alice opposite, next to the rector, who was the only invited guest; Errington was always expected, and had returned from a distant canvassing expedition, for the present member for West Clayshire was believed to be on the point of retiring on account of ill health, and Mr. Errington of Garston Hall, intended to offer himself for election to the free and independent.

He had had a fatiguing day, but scarcely admitted to himself how much more restful a solitary dinner would have been, with a cigar and some keen-edged article or luminous pamphlet in his own comfortable library afterward, than making conversation at Colonel Ormonde’s table.  However, to slight the lady who had promised to be his wife was impossible, so he exerted himself to be agreeable.