Henry frowned. “He needn’t be. There’s nothing very wonderful in our all being fond of you.”
She got up from the chair and began to walk up and down the room. Henry’s eyes followed her.
“I don’t know what it is,” she said suddenly. “But during these last weeks it’s as though you were all hiding something from me. Even you and Millie. Of course I know that Aunt Aggie hates Philip. She never can hide her feelings. But mother ...” Katherine broke out. “Oh! it’s all so silly! Why can’t we all be natural? It’s unfair to Philip. He’s ready for anything, he wants to be one of us, and you, all of you—”
“It isn’t quite fair,” said Henry slowly, “to blame only us. We’ve all been very nice to Philip, I think. I know Aunt Betty and Millie and father like him very much.”
“And you?” said Katherine.
“I don’t think I’d like anyone who was going to take you away.”
“But he isn’t going to take me away. That’s where you’re all so wrong. He’s just going to be one more of the family.”
Henry said nothing.
Katherine then cried passionately: “Ah, you don’t know him! you simply don’t know him!” She stopped, her eyes shining, her whole body stirred by her happiness. She came over and stood close to him: “Henry, whatever happens, whatever happens, nothing can take me away from you and mother and the rest. Nor from Garth.... If you’re sure of that then you needn’t be afraid of Philip.”
Henry looked up at her. “Suppose, Katherine—just suppose—that he insisted on your going, leaving us all, leaving Garth, going right away somewhere. What would you do?”