“I wish you could take them away,” said Rachel, thoughtfully.

“Perhaps, later on, I may be able, but I do not think there is any chance that poor Charlie will be punished again.  He is never really naughty, but he has had a great shock.”

“So have you, I imagine, to judge from your looks.”

“Do I look shocked?  And how have you been?  It is so long since I was able to go and see you.”

“I have been, and am very well—­very busy, and really succeeding.  I have opened a banking account, and feel very proud of my cheque-book.  Do you know that Mr. Newton has advanced me two hundred pounds?  Just now it is worth a thousand, it lifts me over the waiting time.  I have sent in my quarter’s accounts, and in a month the payments will begin to come in.  I’ll make a good business yet.”

“I believe you will.”

“What a pretty room!” said Rachel, looking round.  “How nice it is to know you are comfortable; by the time you are tired of your secretaryship, I hope to have a nice little sum laid by for you.”

“What a wonderful woman of business you are, Rachel,” said Katherine, admiringly.

“I ought to be!  It is the only thing left to me, and I am thankful to say I get more and more—–­” she stopped, for the door opened and Lord de Burgh was announced.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

REPULSION.

Rachel started from her seat and stood facing the door.  Her cheek flushed crimson, then grew deadly white, her lips parted as if she breathed with difficulty.

De Burgh, the moment his eyes fell on her, stopped as if suddenly arrested by an invisible hand; his eyes expressed horror and surprise, his dark face grew darker.  Rachel quickly recovered.  “I will call again,” she murmured, and passing him swiftly, noiselessly, left the room, closing the door behind her.

Like a flash of lightning, the meaning of this scene darted through Katherine’s brain.  Clasping her hands with interlaced fingers, she pressed them against her breast.

“Ah!” she exclaimed (there was infinite pain in that “ah!”) “then you are the man?”

“What do you mean?” asked De Burgh, in a sullen tone, his thick brows almost meeting in a frown.

“The man she loved and lived with,” returned Katherine, the words were low and clear.

“I am!” he replied, defiantly.  Then a dreadful silence fell upon them.

Katherine dropped into a chair, and, resting her elbows on the table, covered her face with her hands.

“My God!” exclaimed De Burgh, advancing a step nearer.  “How does she come here?”

Katherine could not speak for a moment; at last, and still covering her eyes and with a low quick utterance as if overwhelmed, she said,

“I have known her for some time.  I found her dying of despair!  I was able to befriend her, to win her back to life, to something like hope.  She told me everything, except the name.  We have ceased to speak of the past!  I little knew, I could not have dreamed—­I never suspected;” her voice broke, and she burst into tears, irresistible tears which she struggled vainly to repress.