Katherine made her announcement quietly after all. The beating about the bush had ceased. The blow had fallen with a vengeance! As she spoke she rose, and now she stood a foot or so away from her father, confronting him. Her long arms hung at her sides; her slim figure was drawn up to its fullest height; her eyes flashed defiance and resistance into the eyes of the old man. But the hard lips were no longer hard—they trembled. Hunt's face turned from red to white, and from white to red again, and then he put his hand with a sudden gesture over his heart, and sank into a chair.
"Wha—what did you say?" was his first remark.
Katherine repeated her intelligence. Then she said, after a pause,—
"We sail on Friday."
"Whom do you mean by 'we'? I cannot go with you."
"No; you must stay at home and look after the dollars. You were always a dear old daddy, and the dollars are necessary to our existence. I shall want a good few to take with me. 'We' means Miss Katherine Hepworth and myself."
"Who is Katherine Hepworth?"
"A girl I met at Lady Marsden's—a girl I am interested in. She is also going to Ladysmith, and I am going with her."
"But why to Ladysmith?"
"Because a considerable contingent of our army is assembled in that neighbourhood. We go to be in the thick of—the fun."