Katherine felt annoyed at the thoughtless speech—if it was thoughtless. However, she kept a composed air, though the varying color which she never could regulate told De Burgh that she was not unmoved.
"And probably hoped it would be longer," he replied, as he shook hands with Mrs. Ormonde, but only bowed to Miss Liddell.
"Don't answer him," cried the former; "such decided fishing does not deserve success."
"I will not," said Katherine, with a kind smile. She was too thorough a woman not to have a soft corner in her heart for the man who had professed, with so convincing an air of sincerity, to love her with all his heart.
It did not, however, seem to please or displease him, for he sat down beside the tea-table with his usual unaffected ease, and addressed his conversation to Mrs. Ormonde.
"Just heard from Carew that you were in town, and I have only escaped from Pontygarvan, where I have been playing the dutiful kinsman to my immortal relative. I don't know which is most to be avoided, his enmity or his liking. He is an amusing old cynic at times, but a born despot. He only let me away to prosecute a scheme that he has taken up, and which I have gone pretty deeply into myself."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Ormonde, handing him some tea. "Have you turned promoter, or—"
"Well, I am going to be my own promoter; time only will show how I'll succeed. You must both give me your best wishes."
"I am sure I do," said Mrs. Ormonde.
De Burgh raised his eyes slowly to Katherine's. She had not spoken. "Don't you wish me success? No; I thought you didn't."