“Two years in Italy, Germany, and Paris,” repeated De Burgh; “she can’t be quite a novice, then.”

“Oh, she thinks she knows a great deal; and she is a nice girl, though curious and fanciful.  I like her very much indeed, but I do not fancy you would.  She is certainly obstinate.  Instead of coming direct to us, and making her home here, as we were quite willing she should, she has gone to Miss Payne, a woman who, I believe, exists by acting chaperon to rich girls with no relations.  Fancy, she has absolutely agreed to live with this Miss Payne for a year before consulting us, or asking our consent—­or—­or anything!”

“Is she not a minor?”

“She will be of age in a week or two, and it makes me quite nervous to think that other influences may prevent her keeping her promise to my boys.  It is a mercy she did not marry some greedy foreigner while she was under age.  Fortunately, men never seemed to take a fancy to Katherine.”

“They will be pretty sure to take a fancy to her money.”

“I think she lived so quietly people did not suspect her of having any.  She is awfully cut up about the death of her mother, and does not go anywhere.  I hope she will come down here next week.  The only person I am afraid of is a horrid stiff old lawyer who seems to be her right hand man.  He went over to Paris when Mrs. Liddell died, and did everything, instead of sending for Colonel Ormonde!  I felt quite hurt about it.”

“Ha! a shrewd old lawyer is bad to beat,” said De Burgh, looking at his lively informant with half-closed eyes and an amused expression.  “I wouldn’t be too sure of your sister if I were you.  Under such guidance the young lady may alter her generous intentions.”

“Pray do not say such horrible things, Mr. De Burgh!” cried Mrs. Ormonde, growing very grave, even pathetic, and looking inclined to cry.  “What would become of me—­I mean us—­if she changed her mind?  ’Duke would be furious; he would never forgive me.”

“Pooh! nonsense! a man would forgive a woman like you anything.”

“A woman, perhaps, but not his wife,” she returned, shaking her head.  “But I won’t think of anything so dreadful.  I am quite sure Katie will never break her word; she is awfully true.”

“That is rather an alarming character.  You make me quite curious.  What is she like—­anything like you?”

“Not a bit.  You know, she is only my sister-in-law.  She is tall and large, and much more decided”—­looking up in his face with a caressing smile.

“I understand.  Not a delicate little darling, made for laughter and kisses, and sugar, and spice, and all that’s nice, like you.”  This with an insolent, admiring look.  “Not a woman to fall in love with, but useful as a wife to keep one’s household up to the collar.”

“Really, Mr. De Burgh, you are very shocking!  You must not say such things to me.”

“Mustn’t I?  How shall you prevent me?  I am a relative, you know.  You can’t treat me as a stranger.”