“When men are good they are very good,” said Kate, reflectively.  “But the only two I have seen much of are not pleasant specimens—­my uncle, John Liddell, and Colonel Ormonde.  Then against them I must balance Bertie Payne, who is good enough for two.”

“He is indeed!  I owe him a debt I can never repay, for he brought you to me.  I wish you could reward him as he would wish.”

“I am not sure that he has any wishes on the subject,” said Katherine, her color rising.  “He thinks I am too ungodly to be eligible for the helpmeet of a true believer.  Ah, indeed I am not half good enough for such a man!”

CHAPTER XXIX.

DE BURGH AGAIN.

That Rachel Trant should have drifted into communication George Liddell seemed a most whimsical turn of the wheel of fortune to Katherine, and she thought much of it.

Would it lead to any reconciliation between herself and her strange, unreasonable, half-savage kinsman?  She fancied she could interest herself in his daughter, and towards himself she felt no enmity; rather a mild description of curiosity.  Why should they not be on friendly terms?

But this and other subjects of thought were swallowed up in the anticipated pain of removing her nephews from their school at Sandbourne, where they had been so happy and done so well.  Miss Payne’s friendly offer to take them in for a week or two had relieved Katherine of a difficulty; and Mrs. Needham was most considerate in promising to give her ample time to prepare them for their new school.

What a difference, poor Katherine thought, between the present and the past! quite as great as between the price of Sandbourne and Wandsworth.  There was a certain rough and ready tone about the latter establishment which distressed her; yet the school-master’s wife seemed a kindly, motherly woman, and the urchins she saw running about the playground looked ruddy and happy enough.  It was the best of the cheaper schools she had seen, and to Dr. Paynter’s care she resolved to commit them.  As Wandsworth was within an easy distance, she could often go to see them.

Another matter kept her somewhat on the qui vive.  In spite of Mrs. Ormonde’s assurance that De Burgh had forgotten her, Katherine had a strong idea that she had not seen the last of him.

Though Mrs. Needham’s wide circle of acquaintances included many men and women of rank, she knew nothing of the set to which De Burgh belonged.  Those of his class, admitted within the hospitable gate of the Shrubberies, were usually persons of literary, artistic, or dramatic leanings and connections, of which he was quite innocent.

It was a day or two after Katherine’s last interview with Rachel Trant, and Mrs. Needham was “at home” in a more formal way than usual.  Katherine was assisting her chief in receiving, when, in the tea-room, she was accosted by Errington.  “Have you had tea yourself?” he asked, with his grave, sweet smile.