Kathleen put the letter into Miss Ellicott's hand, and then went to the window, where she stood during its perusal She had resolved not to notice the dismay with which her aunt heard of this further communication from the captain, and trusted to the letter itself to produce a favourable impression. She waited some little time, standing at the window with her back to the room and its occupants, but as neither spoke she walked to the fireside, and asked—"What do you think of the letter, aunty?"
"My dear, I cannot find fault with it."
"I should think not indeed," replied the girl, drawing herself up in the stately way she put on at times.
"And yet, Kitty dear, I cannot help wishing that the writer had been content to leave the matter as it was."
"With his feelings he could hardly do that. You see, he thought he had pained me, and wished me to know that he never meant to do so."
"He might have imagined that the wound, if any, would be healed, so far as he was concerned, before this time, my dear."
"But you see what he says. He simply could not summon courage to write. Only, as he was back at Monk's How, he had a dread of meeting me with his fault unacknowledged—I mean apologized for."
"Happily, Captain Torrance is not often seen in our little circle of friends, Kitty, so there was not much fear of his being quite overwhelmed by your displeasure. As I have said, the letter is not to be found fault with, and as it requires no answer, were I you, I would put it into the fire, and forget both it and the writer as far as possible."
"Thank you, aunty," said Kathleen, taking the letter, but with no intention of following Mrs. Ellicott's advice in the disposal of it; "I have answered it."
"What! you have already written to Captain Torrance? I wish you had not done that without naming the matter to me or Aylmer."