“They? who—­whom is she going to marry?”

“My old friend Major Urquhart.  It is a very old attachment, but Mr. Bradley objected to his want of fortune; then, as Bradley’s wealth increased, Urquhart felt reluctant to come forward again.  Accident revealed the state of the case to me.  I went to see Urquhart, who had just returned from India, and was in Edinburgh.  I persuaded him to return with me, and once the lovers met, matters swiftly arranged themselves.  Finally, Bradley gave his consent.  Now the air is resonant with the coming chime of wedding bells.”

“I am greatly surprised,” said Katherine, and it was some minutes before she could speak again.  Her horizon seemed suddenly suffused with light; she felt dizzy with a strange delightful glow, and confused with a sense of shame at her own unreasoning, irrational joy.  What difference could Errington’s marriage or no marriage make to her?

“I suppose,” resumed Errington, after looking earnestly at her speaking face, “that the intimacy which arose between Mr. Bradley and myself in consequence of my connection with The Cycle suggested the rumor of my engagement with his daughter; but no such idea ever entered my head or Angela’s.  You know, I suppose, I am now de facto editor of The Cycle.  It is a good appointment, and enables me to hope for possibilities, though I dare not say probabilities.”

“I am sure you will be an admirable editor,” said Katherine, pulling herself together, and trying to speak lightly.

“Why?” asked Errington, smiling.

“You are just, and—­and careful, and must be a good judge of the subjects such a periodical treats of.”

“Thank you.”  He paused; then, looking down, he continued, “Mrs. Needham tells me you have been troubled about your nephews.”

“Yes, I was very much troubled, but I think they are safe and well now; later I should put them to a better school, as I now hope to do.”  She stopped to think how she should best explain George Liddell’s unexpected generosity, and Errington exclaimed.

“These boys are a heavy charge to you! yet I suppose you could not bring yourself to give them up?”

“How could I? their mother can really do nothing for them, and it would be cruel to hand them over to Colonel Ormonde’s charity.”

“It would! you are right,” said Errington, hastily.  “Poor little fellows! to lose you would be too terrible a trial for them.”

Katherine raised her eyes to his; they were moist with gratitude for his sympathy, and seemed to draw him magnetically to her.  He changed his place to the sofa; leaning one arm on the back, he rested his head on his hand, and looked gravely down upon her.

“Will you forgive me if I ask an intrusive question?  You know we agreed to be friends, yet our friendship does not seem to thrive, it is dying of starvation because we so rarely meet; still, for the sake of our shadowy friendship, answer me:  may I put the natural construction on De Burgh’s sudden departure from England?”