Errington immediately obeyed.  Katherine watched them speaking together for some minutes with a curious sense of discomfort and dissatisfaction.  Miss Bradley’s face looked softer and brighter, and a sort of animation came into her gestures, slight and dignified though they were.  They seemed to have much to say, and said it with a certain amount of well-bred familiarity.  Yes, they were evidently friends; very naturally.  How happy she was to be thus free from any painful consciousness in his presence!  She was as stainless as himself, could look fearlessly in his eyes and assert herself, while she (Katherine) could only crouch in profoundest humility, and gratefully gather what crumbs of kindness and notice he let fall for her benefit.  It was quite pitiable to be easily disturbed by such insignificant circumstances.  How pitiably weak she was!  So, with an effort, she turned her attention to Mrs. Needham and Bertie, who had slipped into an argument, as they often did, respecting the best and most effective method of dealing with the poor.  In this Katherine joined with somewhat languid interest, quite aware that Errington and Miss Bradley grew more and more absorbed in their conversation, till Miss Payne, feeling herself de trop, left her place to speak with Mrs. Needham, while Katherine and Bertie gradually dropped into silence.

“Miss Bradley’s carriage,” was soon announced, and she rose tall and stately, nearly as tall as Errington.

“Will you excuse me for running away so soon, dear Mrs. Needham?” she said, “but I promised Mrs. Julian Starner to go to her musical party to-night.  I am to play the opening piece of the second part, so I dare not stay longer.  You are going?”—­to Errington, who bowed assent.  “Then I can give you a seat in my brougham,” she continued, with calm, assured serenity.

“Thank you,” and Errington, turning to Katherine, said quickly:  “Will you let me know when you hear from Newton?  I am most anxious as regards Liddell’s decision.”

“I will, certainly.  Good-night.”  She put her hand into his, and felt in some occult manner comfort by the gentle pressure with which he held it for half a moment.  Yes, beaten, defeated, punished as she was, he felt for her with a noble compassion.  Ought not that to be enough?

“Good-night, Miss Liddell.  I hope you will come and see me.  I am always at home on Tuesday afternoons; and Miss Payne, when I have seen the grandmother of the girl we have been speaking about, I will let you know, and you will kindly take into consideration the points I mentioned.  Good-night.”  And she swept away, leaning on Errington’s arm.

“Now that we are by ourselves,” said Mrs. Needham, comfortably, “I must tell you what I have been proposing to Miss Liddell.  I should like you to know all about it,” and she plunged into the subject.  “I know it is but a poor offer,” she concluded; “but for the present it is better than nothing, and she can be on the lookout for something else.”