was by no means
so exalted a character as to be indifferent to his tribute; nevertheless
she was half afraid of the cynical, outspoken, high-born Bohemian, who
seemed to have small respect for people or opinions. She showed little
of this feeling, however, having held her own with spirit in their
various arguments, as, it need scarcely be said, they rarely agreed.

"What is this mysterious piece of work I see constantly in your hands?"
asked De Burgh, taking his place beside Katherine when the men came in
after dinner a few days after his arrival.

"It is a black silk stocking for Cecil."

"One of the nephews, eh? So you are capable of knitting! It must be a
dreary occupation."

"No; it becomes mechanical, and it is better than sitting with folded
hands."

"I am not sure it is. I have great faith in natures that can take
complete rest--men who can do nothing, absolutely nothing--and so create
a reserve fund of fresh energy for the next hour of need. There is no
strength in fidgety feverishness."

"There is not much feverishness in knitting," returned Katherine,
beginning a new row.

"There is very little feverishness about _you_, yet you are not placid.
I am extending and verifying my original estimate of your character, you
see."

"A most interesting occupation," said Katherine, carelessly.

"_Yes_, most interesting. I wish I had more frequent opportunities of
studying it; but one never sees you all day. Where do you hide
yourself?"

"I take long rambles with the children, and--" She paused.

"Does it amuse you to play nurse-maid?"

"Yes, at present. Then my nephews and I were playfellows long ago."

"I imagine it is a taste that will not last."

"Perhaps not."

"Miss Brereton and Lady Alice, with Errington and myself, are going to
ride over to Melford Abbey to-morrow. You will, I hope, be of the
party?"

"Thank you. I do not ride."

"It is rather refreshing to meet a young lady who is not horsy, but it
is a loss to yourself not to ride."

"I dare say it is. Yet what one has never known cannot be a loss. I am
sorry I was not accustomed to ride in my youth."

"It is not too late to learn, remote as that period must be," said De
Burgh, smiling. "You are in the headquarters of horsemen and horsewomen
at present. Appoint me your riding-master, and in a couple of months I
shall be proud of my pupil."

"I am not particularly brave," she returned, "and the experiment would
produce more pain than p