“Why?” he asked.  “Why should you not?  I would lay long odds that you love them more than she does.  You are more a real mother to them.  Why are you always straining at gnats?  You really lose a lot of time, which might be more agreeably occupied, worrying over the rights and wrongs of things.  Follow my example:  go straight ahead for whatever you desire, provided it’s not robbery, and let things balance themselves.”

“Has that system made you supremely happy?”

“Happy!  Oh, that is a big word.  I have had some splendid spurts of enjoyment; and now I have an object to win.  It will give me a lot of trouble; it’s the heaviest stake I ever played for; but it will go hard with me if I don’t succeed.”

De Burgh had been looking out at the stretch of water before him as he spoke, but at his last words his eyes sought Katherine’s with a look she could not misunderstand.  She shivered slightly, an odd passing sense of fear chilling her for a moment as she turned to lay her hat upon the table near, saying, in a cold, collected tone.

“You must always remember that the firmest resolution cannot insure success.”

“It goes a long way toward it, however,” he replied.

“Ah, there is Cis!” cried Katherine, glad to turn the conversation, “come back from school.  Are you not earlier than usual, Cis?”—­as the boy came bounding over the grass to the open window.

“No, auntie; it is one o’clock.”

“Well, young man,” said De Burgh, who was not sorry to be interrupted, as he felt he was treading dangerous ground, and with instinctive tact endeavored always to keep friends with Katherine’s pets, “I have brought you a present, if auntie will allow you to keep it.”

“What is it?—­a box of tools, real tools?  I do so want a box of tools!  But auntie is afraid I will cut myself.”

“No; it’s a St. Bernard puppy that promises to turn out a fine dog.”

“Oh, thank you! thank you! that is nice.  I don’t think you are a bit like the wicked uncle now.  May I go and fetch it now, this moment?”

“Not till after dinner, dear.”

“Oh, isn’t it jolly!  A real St. Bernard dog!”—­capering about.  “You are a nice man!”

“What are you making such a noise for, Cis?” exclaimed his mother coming in, looking admirably well, fresh, becomingly dressed.  “Go away, dear, and be made tidy for your dinner.  Well, Mr. De Burgh, I never dreamed of your arriving so early.  Did you get up in the middle of the night?”

“Not exactly.  The fact is, I must drive over to Revelstoke late this evening and catch the mail train.  I have a command to dine with the Baron to-morrow, to talk over some business of importance, and dared not refuse, as you can imagine.  The everlasting old tyrant has been quite amiable to me of late.”

“Then you’ll not be here to escort me back to town, and I hate travelling alone!” cried Mrs. Ormonde.