"If you hang about me I shall scold."
"Then let me deserve the scolding," I replied, covering her brow and hair with kisses, and half laughing, half crying for joy.
She looked at me wistfully, for once letting me do as I liked, and saying "she did not feel as if she could scold me to-day."
"Because you are too good," I answered, in a low, moved tone. "Oh, Kate, shall I ever forget how you never forgot me; how constantly you came to see me Sunday after Sunday!"
Here I stopped short, for I caught the look of Cornelius, who had laid down his letter, and was evidently listening.
"What else had I to do?" asked Kate, cheerfully.
She rose to go downstairs. I wanted to go with her, but she gaily told me she no more fancied being followed than being hung about, so I had to remain behind, but with the blessed consciousness, it is true, that there was to be no second parting. Joy made me restless. I knew not what to do with myself. I went to the window; I looked at the flowers, at the books, and finally at Cornelius, who, to read his letter more comfortably, was sitting on the sofa. I saw that when he had done he began it over again. It was a lady's hand; there was no difficulty in guessing from whom it came. When the second perusal was over he looked up; as our eyes met I came forward rather hesitatingly, and standing before him, I said—
"May I speak to you, Cornelius?"
"Certainly, but do not be too long about it?"
"It will not take long. I only want to thank you for having brought me home to Kate."