"And what am I to do with them?" said Rupert, approaching the sofa and looking at the untidy little heap. He gave a subdued laugh, which offended Kitty dreadfully.
"I don't see anything to laugh at," she said.
"Neither do I." But the smile still trembled on his finely-cut mouth. "What did you mean me to do with these things?" he asked. "These are trifles: why don't you throw them into the fire if you don't value them?"
"They are not all trifles; and I did value them before you came to see us this time," said Kitty, with a lugubriousness which ought to have convinced him of her sincerity. "There are some bangles, and a cup and saucer, and two books; and there is the chain that you sent me by Mr. Luttrell in the autumn."
"Ah, that chain," said Vivian, and then he took it up and weighed it lightly in his hand. "I have never seen you wear it. I thought at first that you had got it on last night: but my eyes deceived me. My sight is not so good as it used to be. Really, Miss Heron, you make me ashamed of my trumpery gifts: pray take them away, and let me give you something prettier on your next birthday for old acquaintance sake."
"No, indeed!" said Kitty.
"And why not? Because I don't treat you precisely as I did when you were twelve? You really would not like it if I did. No, I shall be seriously offended if you do not take these things away and say no more about them. It would be perfectly impossible for me to take them back; and I think you will see—afterwards—that you should not have asked me to do so."
The accents of that calmly inflexible voice were terrible to Kitty. He turned to the window and looked out, but, becoming impatient of the silence, walked back to her again, and saw that her face had grown white, and was quivering as if she had received a blow. Her eyes were fixed upon the sofa, and her fingers held the chain which he had quietly placed within them; but it was evident that she was doing battle with herself to prevent the tears from falling. Rupert felt some remorse: and then hardened himself by a remembrance of the glances that had been exchanged between her and Hugo in that very room the night before.
"I am old enough to be your father, you know," he began, gravely. This statement was not quite true, but it was true enough for conversational purposes. "I have sent you presents on your birthday since you were a very little girl, and I hope I may always do so. There is no need for you to reject them, because I think it well to remember that you are not a child any longer, but a young lady who has 'come out,' and wears long frocks, and does her hair very elaborately," he said, casting a smiling glance at Kitty's carefully-frizzled head. "I certainly do not wish to cease to be friends with—all of you; and I hope you will not drive me away from a house where I have been accustomed to forget the cares of the world a little, and find pleasant companionship and relaxation."
"Oh, Mr. Vivian!" said Kitty, in a loud whisper. The suggestion that she had power to drive him away seemed almost impious. She felt completely crushed.