“Oh yes, I do heartily forgive you.  You only did it to save me from any chance of discovery.  If only George Liddell will be satisfied not to claim the money I have spent, I may still be able to keep the boys, for I have nearly a hundred and fifty pounds a year quite my own,” cried Katherine, loosing her hand.  “Do not distress yourself, Mr. Errington.  I know Mr. Newton will do his best for me, and perhaps my cousin will not exact the arrears.  He says he is rich, and if I give him no trouble——­” she paused, for she could not command her voice, while the tears were already glittering in her eyes.  Another word and they would have been rolling down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry, for God’s sake!” said Errington, in a low tone, resuming his seat.  “What can be done to soften this fellow?  Ah!  Miss Liddell, we are quits now.  If you robbed me, I have ruined you.”

“From what different motives!” said Katherine, recovering her self-control. “I am still the wrong-doer.”

How heavenly sweet it was to be consoled and sympathized with by him!  But she dared not stay.  It was terribly bold of her to have come to his rooms, only he would never misjudge her, and she was so little known she scarcely feared recognition by any one she might meet.

“Could I assist Mr. Newton at all in dealing with this kinsman of yours?” resumed Errington, gazing at her with a troubled look.

“I fear you could not.  How are you to know anything of my troubles?  No one dreams that you have any knowledge of my affairs; that you and you only are aware what an impostor I am.”

“You are expiating your offence bitterly.  But when the story of this George Liddell comes out, why should I not, as the son of his father’s old friend, make his acquaintance, and try to persuade him to forego his full rights?”

“You might try,” said Katherine, dejectedly.  “Now I have trespassed long enough.  I must go.  I have to explain matters to Miss Payne, and I feel curiously dazed.  Oh, if I can keep the boys!”

“If any effort of mine can help you, it is my duty as well as my sincere pleasure to do all I can.”

“And if the will existed would you have acted on it?”

“Most certainly—­in your defence.”

“Ah!” cried Katherine, her eyes lighting up, her tremulous lips parting in a smile.  “Then you would have had some of the money too.”

“Then you quite forgive me?” again rising, and coming over to stand beside her.

“You must feel I do, Mr. Errington.  Now I will say good-by.  If you can help me with George, I shall be most grateful.”

“Promise that you will look on me as one of your most devoted friends.  He took her hand again.

“Can you indeed feel friendship for one you cannot respect?” she returned, in a low tone, with one of the quick, vivid blushes which usually rose to her cheek when she was much moved.

“But I do respect you.  Why should I not?  A generous, impulsive woman like you cannot be judged by the cold maxims of exact justice; you must be tried by the higher rules of equity.”