Kate, moved by the tone of despondency with which this was asked, replied hesitatingly—
"Perhaps—because you never knew where to look for it."
"And will you not direct me?" said the Earl, with intense earnestness.
Kate shook her head in silent refusal.
He gazed at her still for an instant, and then, taking her hand, said—
"In all probability, we shall never meet again. You have acted in accordance with your character—I, with mine."
And, turning away, he left the house.
Kate remained lost in thought without moving from the position in which she had heard Lord Effingham's parting words; she could hardly believe that he was really gone—that he would return no more; but stranger still, was the impression of regret and compassion he had left upon her mind. Surely there were the scattered elements of much good in his character. What was it that had so fatally disunited them? The repellent power of selfishness. He had, as he said, goodly gifts, rank, and riches, and intellectual power; but the heart, wherein is the balance which harmonises the whole, was corrupt and false; but her sensation was that of relief. One difficulty was removed; her cousin could not long remain in ignorance of his final rejection—nay, in justice to herself, she determined to mention having seen the Earl for the last time.
"My way is becoming clear," was the most distinct idea, as she endeavoured to refix her thoughts upon her book. It was in vain she read and re-read each page, the words might be traced by the eye; but the mind was far too full to admit the sense; and in the struggle between reverie and attention, Mrs. Storey returned.