“I ought to go out and join them,” she thought, then she wavered, afraid of raising a suspicion, and feeling awkward and doubtful.
“Oh dear! I’m not fit to be any girl’s mother,” she thought, despairingly. “Well, now they have parted, and Walter is coming in.”
Walter came up stairs and into the drawing-room—he took up a book and threw it down again—read the paper upside down, and fidgeted about the room; while she could not think of a word to say to him. Suddenly he came towards her, and threw himself into a chair near the sofa where she was sitting.
“Mrs Kingsworth! I—I have made up my mind to confide in you. I am in a great perplexity. I—I love your daughter, most—most thoroughly—but the circumstances, how can I—I of all men—appear before her in the light of a fortune-hunter? Kingsworth raises a barrier between us. Yet I cannot, there are reasons, insuperable reasons, why I cannot persuade her to deprive herself of it. I—I must go away from her till her birthday is past, and she has decided without me. I—you are so sincere a person that I feel sure you will recognise my sincerity.”
Mrs Kingsworth, in spite of her momentary suspicions, was utterly taken by surprise at finding them so quickly realised.
“Katharine?” she said, “but since when, have you learnt so to regard her?”
“Since when? Since the first moment I saw her, since I saw her confidence and simplicity, her—herself! I am well aware,” he added, restraining himself and speaking in a different tone, “that under any circumstances, even without Kingsworth, Katharine’s claims are high, but my father is a rich man and liberal; I think I could have ventured to address her on something like equal terms, but for Kingsworth.”
“What is your view about Kingsworth?” said Mrs Kingsworth abruptly. “What is your opinion as to Kate’s duty?”
“To you perhaps I may say, that I would not keep it with a doubtful right. It would make me uncomfortable. But there is no such clear distinction of right and wrong in the matter as to justify any one in urging such a view on her. I would give much that Emberance had inherited it, and that I could have met Katharine under other circumstances. But now,” he added, “I want your advice, if you will give me any.”
“I should like Katharine to marry you,” said Mrs Kingsworth abruptly. “I do not think you care for Kingsworth. If she gives it up, I think you would make her happy. But you know it is no great fortune, it would hardly justify a man in living without a profession.”