their
conversation,--as though he had merely gone with them as an escort.
Kate seemed to be perfectly content with this arrangement, chattering
to Alice, so that she might show that there was nothing serious on
the minds of any of them. It need hardly be said that Alice at this
time made no appeal to George to join them. He followed them at their
heels, with his hands behind his back, looking down upon the pavement
and simply waiting upon their pleasure.

"Do you know," said Kate, "I have a very great mind to run away."

"Where do you want to run to?"

"Well;--that wouldn't much signify. Perhaps I'd go to the little inn
at Handek. It's a lonely place, where nobody would hear of me,--and I
should have the waterfall. I'm afraid they'd want to have their bill
paid. That would be the worst of it."

"But why run away just now?"

"I won't, because you wouldn't like going home with George
alone,--and I suppose he'd be bound to look after me, as he's doing
now. I wonder what he thinks of having to walk over the bridge after
us girls. I suppose he'd be in that place down there drinking beer,
if we weren't here."

"If he wanted to go, I dare say he would, in spite of us."

"That's ungrateful of you, for I'm sure we've never been kept in a
moment by his failing us. But as I was saying, I do dread going home.
You are going to John Grey, which may be pleasant enough; but I'm
going--to Aunt Greenow."

"It's your own choice."

"No, it's not. I haven't any choice in the matter. Of course I might
refuse to speak to Aunt Greenow, and nobody could make me;--but
practically I haven't any choice in the matter. Fancy a month at
Yarmouth with no companion but such a woman as that!"

"I shouldn't mind it. Aunt Greenow always seems to me to be a very
good sort of woman."

"She may be a good woman, but I must say I think she's of a bad sort.
You've never heard her talk about her husband?"

"No, never; I think she did cry a little the first day she came to
Queen Anne Street, but that wasn't unnatural."

"He was thirty years older than herself."

"But still he was her husband. And even if her tears are assumed,
what of that? What's a woman to do? Of course she was wrong to marry
him. She was thirty-five, and had nothing, while he was sixty-five,
and was very rich. According to all accounts she made him a very good
wife, and now that she's got all his money, you wouldn't have her go
about laughing within three months of his deat