She made her first appearance out of doors.
Very early in the morning, Mr. Peyton, in his quality of master, had ordered the gardener to cut and sweep the snow off the gravel walk that went round the lawn. And on this path Miss Peyton was seen walking briskly to and fro in the frosty, but sunny air.
Griffith saw her first, and ran out to bid her good-morning.
Her reception of him was a farce: she made him a stately curtsy for the benefit of the three faces glued against the panes; but her words were incongruous. "You wretch," said she, "don't come here: hide about, dearest, till you see me with Father Francis. I'll raise my hand so, when you are to cuddle him; and fib. There, make me a low bow, and retire."
He obeyed, and the whole thing looked mighty formal and ceremonious from the breakfast-room.
"With your good leave, gentlemen," said Father Francis, drily, "I will be the next to pay my respects to her." With this he opened the window and stepped out.
Kate saw him, and felt very nervous: she met him with apparent delight.
He bestowed his morning benediction on her and then they walked silently side by side on the gravel; and from the dining-room window it looked like anything but what it was—a fencing match.
Father Francis was the first to break silence. He congratulated her on her good fortune, and on the advantage it might prove to the true Church.
Kate waited quietly till he had quite done, and then said, "What, I may go into a convent now that I can bribe the door open?"