“I am perfectly well and quite happy,” returned Errington, with a slight smile.  “The terrible change, as you term it, has affected me very little.  I find real work most exhilarating, and slight success is sweet.  Since I knew that the tangle of my poor father’s affairs was satisfactorily unravelled, I have been at ease, comparatively.  Life has many sides.  I miss most my horses.”

“Ah, yes, you must miss them!  Well, from what I hear, you seem to be making a place for yourself in literature.  I am so glad!”

“Thank you.  And you, may I ask, what are your plans?”

“If you are so good as to care, I am going to take a house and make a home for myself and my little nephews.  Without any formal agreement, Mrs. Ormonde leaves them very much to me.  They are a great interest to me.  And as you are so kind in wishing me to be happy and not morbid, I will try to forget.  I think I could be happier if you would promise me something.”

“What?”

“If ever—­” She hesitated; her voice trembled.  “If you ever want anything,” she hurried on, nervously, “anything, even to the half of my kingdom, you will deign to accept it from me?”

“I will,” said Errington, with a kind and, as Katherine imagined, a condescending smile.

“He thinks me a weak, impulsive child, who must be forgiven because she is scarcely responsible,” she said to herself.

“And this preliminary settled, you will admit me to the honor of your acquaintance?”

“Oh, Mr. Errington, do not think me ungrateful.  But can you not understand that, good and generous as you are, your presence overwhelms me?”

“Then I will not intrude upon you.  Gently and very gravely I accept your decree.”

They were silent for a moment; then Katherine said, “I was sure you would understand me.”  As she spoke, De Burgh suddenly came round the group of ferns and stood before them with an air of displeased surprise.

“Why, Miss Liddell!  I thought that desperate filibuster in red satin had carried you off.  I have sought you high and low.  How d’ye do, Errington?  Haven’t seen you this age.  Mrs. Ormonde wants to go home, Miss Liddell.”

“I suppose the recitation is over,” said Errington, coolly.  “I will take Miss Liddell to Mrs. Ormonde, whom I have not seen for some time.”

De Burgh, therefore, had nothing for it but to walk after the man whom he at once decided was a dangerous rival, as indeed he would have considered any one in the rank of a gentleman.

Mrs. Ormonde was quite charmed to see Errington.  She had put him rather out of her mind.  It was a pleasant surprise to meet him once more in society, for she had a sort of dim idea his ruin was so complete that he must have sold his dress clothes to provide food, and could never, therefore, hold up his head in society again.

“It is quite nice to see you once more!” she exclaimed, with a sweet smile, after they had exchanged greetings.  “Colonel Ormonde will be delighted to hear of you.  I wish you could come down for a few days’ hunting.  Do give me your address, and Duke will write to you.”