“Why should you fail?” cried Katherine.  “You only want time to succeed.  I am sure you will sell your books, and then we can pay principal and interest; besides, old Mr. Liddell could not treat his brother’s widow as he would a stranger.”

“I am not so sure.”

“And you are not angry with me for going to him?”

“No, dear love; I am proud of your courage.  Had I known what you intended, I should have forbidden you.  I should never have allowed you to run the risk of being insulted:  it was too much for you.  I wish I could shield you from all such trials, my Kate; but I cannot—­I cannot.”  The unwonted tears stood in her kind, faded eyes.

“Ah, mother, you have borne the burden and heat of the day long enough alone; I must take my share now, and I assure you, after my adventures to-day, I feel quite equal to do so.  I have been too long a heedless idler; I want to be a real help to you now.  Do you think I have done any good?”

“Yes, certainly! but everything depends on this man who is coming to-morrow.  Your poor father used to know Mr. Liddell’s solicitor, and I think liked him; of course he may have a different one now.  Still it is a gleam of hope; which is doubly sweet because you brought it.”

Katherine hastily pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, and choked down the sob that would swell her throat.  She was dreadfully tired, physically and mentally.

“Ada asked me for that money this morning as soon as you were gone.  I told her I could not return it for a while, and she did not look pleased, naturally enough.”

“I think she is very selfish,” said Katherine.

“No, dear, only thoughtless, and younger than her years.  She is always nice with me, and would be with you if you had more patience.  You must remember that no character is stronger than its weakest part, and hers is—­”

“Self,” put in Katherine.

“No! love of admiration and pleasure,” added her mother.

“Well,” returned Katherine, good-humoredly, “they both are very nice.”

Here the person under discussion came hastily into the room, in the crispest of lilac and white muslins, with a black sash and bows, and a rose at her waist, looking as fresh as if the heaviest atmosphere could not touch her.

“Oh, you have arrived, Katherine!  I wish you would come and see Colonel Ormonde.  He wants so much to speak to you!”

“But I do not want to speak to him.  I don’t want to see any one.”

“Do come, Katie!  I assure you you have made quite an impression; come and deepen it,” cried Mrs. Frederic, with a persuasive smile, while she thought, “She is looking awfully bad and pale, and Katherine without color is nowhere; her eyes are red too.—­Come, like a dear,” she persisted, aloud, “unless you want to go up and beautify.”

“No, I certainly do not,” said Katherine, rising impatiently.  “I will go with you for a minute or two, but I am too tired to talk.”