Gwendolen nodded, and Katharine laughed ever so gently.
"Well, dear, at least you tried," she said. "Come now, put on your prettiest hat, and let us go at once."
So they went without any further discussion, Katharine's mind being completely made up on the subject. And when Ronald came home that evening, he found, to his astonishment, that his sister had fled.
"Had you any words?" he asked anxiously.
"No, no," Gwendolen answered. "I wish we had had. I should not be feeling such a wretch then. Kath said she could not stand my jealousy, and that she had not come home from her wanderings to make our home unhappy. She was lovely about it, and I don't wonder you love and admire her. I think she is a grand creature built on a grand scale, Ronnie, and I am a horrid mean-spirited thing, and I hate and despise myself——"
"No, no, darling, not that," he said, as he comforted and kissed her. "But it is sad. I am sorry. My good old Kath who gave you so uncomplainingly to me! To think she has come home after three years' absence to find she cannot stay a few days happily with us."
He paced up and down the drawing-room, his heart torn with sadness and concern.
The clock struck six.
"Ronald," Gwendolen said, "it is only six—if you are not too tired, let us go to her and fetch her back."
He brightened up at once.