His eyes began to grow hungry; he was taking in the subtle improvement in her—which had happened even in these few months. His interest in her had not diminished, he discovered, much as he had hoped that he had crushed it to within bounds.
"I cannot say—in church, I suppose."
"That is small comfort! May I not come up the stairs just for half an hour before lunch?"
"Yes, if you find it possible—remember, I trust you not to do anything unwise."
"I promise—if you prefer it, I will ask my aunt's permission."
"Do as you think best—but now I must go. Good-night!"
He took her hand and kissed it—his lips were burning. Then he watched her as she went up the stairs, never looking back. And a sudden anguish came over him. How hopeless the whole thing was! He had better not have relied upon his self-command, and have stayed away.
He did not go to church on the Sunday. Katherine rather wondered at this, as she walked back alone across the park. In the country, Lady Garribardine expected the inmates of her house to be very orthodox.
The fine spring wind had blown two faint pink roses into her cheeks, by the time she reached the schoolroom, and there found Mr. Strobridge seated in her favourite armchair reading a book!