"It is very odd," observed Miss Payne, thoughtfully. "My letter," she went on, after a moment's pause, "is from my new tenant; he wants some additional furniture, which is just nonsense. He has as much as is good for him; I'll write and say I shall be in town on Monday, and call at Wilton Street to discuss matters."
"Are you going to town on Monday?"
"Yes, I made up my mind when I read this," tapping the letter.
"I suppose you don't object to be left alone? And there is the chance of Mrs. Needham coming down; probably she will stay over Monday."
"I fear that is not very likely."
No more was said on the subject then, but Katherine could not get her mind free from the idea of George Liddell's anticipated visit. She was quite willing to make friends with him, though his ungenerous and unreasonable conduct towards herself had impressed her most unfavorably.
The day passed over, however, without any visitor, nor was it until the following afternoon that Katherine was startled, in spite of her preparation, by the announcement that a gentleman wished to see Miss Liddell.
"I'll go," exclaimed Miss Payne, gathering up her knitting and a book, and she vanished swiftly in spite of rheumatic difficulties.
In another moment George Liddell stood before his dispossessed kinswoman, a tall, gaunt figure with grizzled hair and sunken eyes. He took the hand she offered in silence, and then exclaimed, abruptly,
"You knew I was coming?"