She glanced up with a brilliant smile. "Oh no, thanks. I'm only making a debating-club of myself. Question under discussion—Shall I go on, or shall I turn back?"
"Why turn back? Thomas shall see you home."
"Oh, thanks—but it's light so late now. Mother wanted me to cover some books before going out; and I wouldn't. It's an awful business—such a state as they are in. And I was vexed about something else too; so I started off without telling her. Ought I to give up and go back?"
"Is that necessary, now you have come so far?" He met the appeal in her face with a man's decisiveness. "Tell your mother I wished you to come."
"Thanks awfully—" and she sprang to her feet. "That will put it all right."
[CHAPTER VI]
Doris Lets Herself Go
KATHERINE STIRLING and her cousin, Hamilton, were seated together in the hall at Lynnthorpe; really its "living-room." It had an old oaken door opening on a wide terrace; deep window-seats; a huge fireplace; and antique furniture. The house was very old; and successive owners had reverently refrained from spoiling it by brand-new additions.
As usual, Hamilton was the talker, Katherine the listener. He loved a good listener; one who would submit to be convinced by his arguments; one who would not interrupt. Katherine was an adept at fulfilling this role.
He had talked for fifty minutes without a break; and he could very well have gone on for another fifty, had the Squire allowed Doris to turn homeward. Having laid down the law on foreign affairs, on home politics, and on the state of the money market, he proceeded to skim the fields of literature—if the word "skim" could be applied to any of his movements—and to recommend a well-thought-out course of geological study.