"I should be glad to help in any way," said Katherine, coloring, "but just now I belong (temporarily) to my uncle, who is old, and requires a good deal of reading—and care."
"Ah, I see your work is cut out for you: that, of course, is your first duty."
The conversation then flowed on easily about street arabs and the various missions for rescuing them, about soldiers' homes, and other kindred topics. Katherine was much interested, and taken out of herself; she was quite sorry when on approaching Legrave Crescent she felt obliged to pause, with the intention of dismissing him. He understood. "Do you live near this?" he asked.
"Yes, quite near."
"May I bring you some papers giving you an account of my poor old women?"
"I should like so much to have them," said Katherine. "But my uncle is rather peculiar. He does not like to be disturbed; he does not like visitors; he was vexed because my sister-in-law and the children came to-day."
"I understand, and will not intrude. But should you be able and willing to help these undertakings, Colonel Ormonde will always know my address. He honors me still with his friendship, though he thinks me a moon-struck idiot."
"Because you are good. The folly is his," said Katherine, warmly. Then she bowed, Mr. Payne lifted his hat again, and they parted, not to meet for many a day.
When Mrs. Knapp opened the door she looked rather grave, but Katherine's mind was so full of her encounter with Gilbert Payne that she did not notice it, seeing which, Mrs. Knapp said, "I'm glad you have come in, miss."
"Why?" with immediate apprehension. "Is my uncle ill?"