"You are right, Kate, quite right; but how much longer the smoothness will last, God only knows."
"Well, there is a God, to know all, and direct all, and that consciousness, must rob the future of all apprehension. Shall I write to Lady Desmond, on our return, and tell her of our indecision and its causes?"
"By all means. Yet, dear child, I wish you would accept her invitation, you want change, and I could remain quite comfortably with nurse and—"
"Do not utter such treason! Leave you! and to amuse myself in Italy, when there is a chance that so far from being able to do without me, you may peculiarly want me."
"My dear, dear, unselfish child."
"Not a bit unselfish—tout au contraire. I should be miserable away, besides—but here are our friends, Winter and Gilpin, so, dearest grandpapa, leave the future to take care of itself; all will be arranged for the best."
There was no time to say more, as the painter and organist approached; but though the Colonel made no reply, some unexplained current of feeling induced him to pass his arm through Kate's, instead of offering it, as was his habit, for her support.
"Ha! Miss Vernon, I see you have taken advantage of a stray gleam of sun, to seduce the Colonel into risking another cold—the wind is truly detestable, but as I could not keep Gilpin in doors, I came out with him, he has not a grain of prudence!"
"My dear Winter, it is a remarkable fine day for March, I am glad, Gilpin, you felt equal to a walk."
"I think you look better," observed Kate.