“Sit down, Miss Liddell.  I am deeply grieved to see you so depressed.  I have ventured to call because I have a pin’s point of hope for you, which I trust will excuse me for presenting myself, as I know you would rather not see me.”

“To-day I am glad to see you.  I should always be glad to see you but—­but for my own conscience.  Do not misunderstand me.”  With a sudden impulse she stretched out her fair soft hand to him.  He took and held it, wondering to find that although so cold when first he touched it, it grew quickly warm in his grasp.

“Thank you,” he said, gently, and still held her hand; “you give me infinite pleasure.  Now”—­releasing her—­“for my excuse.  Among my poor father’s papers were a few letters of very old date from John Liddell, in which was occasional mention of his boy.  It struck me these might be a modus operandi, and enable me approach a difficult subject.  I contrived to meet your cousin at Mr. Newton’s, and he permitted me to call.  I gave him the letters, and we became—­not friends—­but friendly at least.”  Here his face brightened.  “We began to talk of you, and I saw that he was bitter and vindictive against you to an extraordinary degree.  He grew communicative, and I was able to represent to him the cruelty and unreasonableness of his conduct.  At last—­only to-day—­he suddenly exclaimed, ’How much of my money has that nice young lady made away with?’ I could not, of course, give him any particulars, but having learned from himself that he had amassed a good deal of money himself, and that with the addition of your fortune (I cannot help calling it yours) he would really be a man of wealth, I ventured to suggest that he should not demand the refunding of what you had used while in possession of the property, and showed him what a bad impression it would create in the minds of those among whom he evidently wishes to make a place for himself.  He thought for a few moments, and then said he would consider the matter and consult his legal advisers before coming to a decision, adding that he did not understand how it was that they as well as myself were on your side.  Then I left him, and I feel a strong impression that he will lay aside his worst intentions.  I only trust he will spare whatever balance may stand to your credit with your banker.”

“You have indeed done me a great service,” cried Katherine, “If George Liddell does as you suggest I shall not be afraid to face the future.  I shall surely be able to find some employment myself; then I need not importune Colonel Ormonde for my nephews.”

“He will surely not leave them without means,” cried Errington.

“I am not sure.  They have no legal claim upon him, and he is very angry with me for causing such confusion, though—­”

—­“Though,” interrupted Errington, “your only error was over-generosity.”

“My only error, Mr. Errington!”—­casting down her eyes and interlacing her fingers nervously.  “If he only knew!”