“I said No,” Kate answered in a low voice.
“He is a well-to-do man,” Mr. Bonamy said, slowly stirring his tea. “Not that you need think of that only. But you are not likely to know many people who could make you more comfortable. I believe he is skilful in his profession. It is a chance, girl, not to be lightly thrown away.”
“I could not—I could not marry him,” Kate stammered, her agitation now very apparent. “I do not like him. You would not have me——”
“I would not have you marry any one you do not like!” Mr. Bonamy replied, almost sternly. “But are you sure that you know your own mind?”
“Quite,” Kate said, with a shudder.
“Hum! Well, well; there is no more to be said, then,” he answered. “Don’t cry, girl.”
Kate managed to obey him. And in a moment, bravely steadying her voice, she asked, “What is this about Mr. Lindo, father? I heard that he had turned the sheep out of the churchyard.”
The lawyer thought she asked the question in order to change the subject; and he answered briskly, with less reserve perhaps than he might have exercised at another time. “It is quite true,” he said. “He is making a fool of himself, as I expected. You cannot put old heads on young shoulders. However, what has happened has convinced me of one thing.”
“What is that?” she asked in a low voice.
“That he does not know himself that he has no right here.”