“You are too good and kind,” said the other, drifting by easy stages into the parlour.
Miss Truefitt made no reply, but following him into the room seated herself in an easy-chair and sat coldly watchful.
“How do you know what I am?” she inquired.
“Your face tells me,” said the infatuated Richard. “I hope you will forgive me for my rudeness last night. It was all done on the spur of the moment.”
“I am glad you are sorry,” said the girl, softening.
“All the same, if I hadn’t done it,” pursued Mr. Catesby, “I shouldn’t be sitting here talking to you now.”
Miss Truefitt raised her eyes to his, and then lowered them modestly to the ground. “That is true,” she said, quietly.
“And I would sooner be sitting here than anywhere,” pursued Catesby. “That is,” he added, rising, and taking a chair by her side, “except here.”
Miss Truefitt appeared to tremble, and made as though to rise. Then she sat still and took a gentle peep at Mr. Catesby from the corner of her eye.
“I hope that you are not sorry that I am here?” said that gentleman.