The second morning, therefore, after she had deposited them in Wilton Street, when she went to inquire for them, and found that Lord de Burgh had called and carried them off to have luncheon with him first, and to spend the afternoon at the Zoological Gardens after, she could hardly credit her ears.

“I must say,” observed Miss Payne, “that I am agreeably surprised.  I had no idea Lord de Burgh was so straightforward and well-disposed a man.  A little abrupt, and would not stand any nonsense, I fancy, but a sterling character.  He has tact too.  He always spoke of the boys as his cousin Colonel Ormonde’s step-sons.  He might be a good friend to them, Katherine.”

“No doubt,” she replied, thoughtfully.

“He will send his butler or house-steward to take them to Kew Gardens to-morrow; but I dare say he will call and tell you himself.”

“He is wonderfully good,” said Katherine, feeling puzzled and oppressed.  “I will go back, then, as fast as I can, and get my work done by six o’clock; then I may spend the evening here with you and the boys.”

“Pray do, if you can manage it.”

Lord de Burgh’s remarkable conduct troubled Katherine a good deal.  How ought she to act?  Certainly he would not put himself out of the way for Cis and Charlie, had he not wished to please her, or really interested himself in them for her sake.  Ought she to encourage him by accepting these very useful and kindly attentions?  How could she reject them without saying as plainly by action as in words, “I know you are pressing your suit upon me, and I will not have it,” which, after all, might be a mistake; besides, she would thus deprive her nephews of much pleasure.  She could not come to a conclusion; she must let herself drift.  But the question tormented her, and it was with an effort she banished it, and applied herself to her task of arranging her chief’s notes.

Mrs. Needham was exceedingly busy that afternoon, and did not go out, as she had some provincial and colonial letters to finish, and had a couple of engagements in the evening.  She and her secretary therefore wrote diligently till about half-past five, when Ford, the smart parlor-maid, announced that “the gentleman” and two little boys were in the drawing-room.

“Good gracious!” cried Mrs. Needham, slipping off her glasses.  “This is growing interesting.  I shall go and speak to Lord de Burgh myself.  Besides, I want to see your boys, my dear.  How funny it sounds!”

“Do, Mrs. Needham.  I will come.”

Lord de Burgh was glaring absently out of the window, and the boys were eagerly examining the diverse and sundry objects thickly scattered around.  They had wonderfully dirty hands and faces, their jackets were splashed as if with some foaming beverage, the knees of their knickerbockers were grubby with gravel and grass, and they had generally the aspect of having done wildly what they listed for some hours.