But the unlucky fellow did not leave well alone. He went on to say,—
"Once out of sight of this place, I may cure myself of my fancy. Here I never could."
"Oh," said Catharine, directly, "if you are so bent on being cured, it would not become me to say nay."
Griffith Gaunt bit his lip and hung his head, and made no reply.
The patience with which he received her hard speech was more apparent than real; but it told. Catharine, receiving no fresh positive provocation, relented again of her own accord, and, after a considerable silence, whispered, softly,—
"Think how we should all miss you."
Here was an overture to reconciliation. But, unfortunately, it brought out what had long been rankling in Griffith's mind, and was in fact the real cause of the misunderstanding.
"Oh," said he, "those I care for will soon find another to take my place! Soon? quotha. They have not waited till I was gone for that."
"Ah, indeed!" said Catharine, with some surprise; then, like the quick-witted girl she was, "so this is what all the coil is about."
She then, with a charming smile, begged him to inform her who was his destined successor in her esteem. Griffith colored purple at her cool hypocrisy, (for such he considered it,) and replied, almost fiercely,—