She left the room, much annoyed to be obliged to part with Mrs. Jorrocks on such terms, yet to stay behind Winter was an impossibility; so, resolutely determining, she hastily packed up her worldly effects, remembering, thankfully, the different mood in which she had last stowed them away.
Winter meantime exerted himself to converse with the amiable mother and daughter, and not without effect. He talked in his most eccentric and abrupt manner, and finally impressed them with the notion that he was a whimsical but wealthy millionaire, to whose fancies it was Kate's interest to accommodate herself. Matters, consequently, wore a less stormy aspect on Kate's return to the sitting-room; both ladies were cool, and Winter very lively.
"So you are off, Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Wilson; "I did not think we should part so sudden."
"I offer Miss Vernon the alternative to return with me, and be my daughter and heiress, or to remain here and be neither," broke in Winter conclusively.
"Well, I suppose you had better go—you acknowledge I owe you nothing," put in Mrs. Jorrocks.
"I do indeed! Will you give this note, with my kindest regards, to Mrs. Davis?" returned Kate.
"And," observed Winter, "permit your servant to call a cab."
A few more awkward moments, and the cab drove up.
"Well, good bye, Mrs. Jorrocks—you forgive my abrupt departure?"
"I suppose I must—good bye;" and again the rigid hand was held out stiff and cold.