"This is an appalling description," said Ormonde. "Pray is it on principle you renounce flirtation?"
"For a much better reason," replied Katherine, wearily. "Because I have no one to flirt with."
"By Jove! there's a state of destitution! Why, it is a blot on society that you should be left lamenting."
"Yes; is it not melancholy?" replied Katherine, carelessly. "Ada, I am so tired I am sure you will excuse me if I go away to rest?"
"Before you go," said Ormonde, eagerly, "I have a request to make. A chum of mine, Sir James Brereton, and myself are going up the river on Thursday, with some friends of Mrs. Liddell's—a picnic affair. Your sister-in-law has promised to honor me with her company, and I earnestly hope you will accompany her. I promise you shall be induced to rescind your anti-flirtation resolutions."
"Up the river?" repeated Katherine, with a wistful look, and paused. "On Thursday next? Thank you very much, but I'm engaged—quite particularly engaged."
"Nonsense, Katie!" cried her sister-in-law. "Where in the world are you going? You know you never have an engagement anywhere."
"Come, Miss Liddell, do not be cruel. We will have a very jolly day, and I'll try and persuade your hero of yesterday to meet you."
"I should like to go very much, but I really cannot. I thank you for thinking of me." She stood up, and, with a slight bow, said, "Good-morning," leaving the room before the stout Colonel could reach the door to open it.
"Phew! that was sharp, short, and decisive," said Ormonde.