few minutes a smile came to her face； and remained there
for the rest of the evening。
“Will you e out shooting with us tomorrow？” said
Christopher； who had； on the whole； formed a favorable
impression of his sister’s friend。
“I won’t shoot； but I’ll e with you；” said Ralph。
“Don’t you care about shooting？” asked Edward； whose
suspicions were not yet laid to rest。
“I’ve never shot in my life；” said Ralph； turning and
looking him in the face； because he was not sure how
this confession would be received。
“You wouldn’t have much chance in London； I suppose；”
said Christopher。 “But won’t you find it rather dull—just
watching us？”
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“I shall watch birds；” Ralph replied； with a smile。
“I can show you the place for watching birds；” said
Edward； “if that’s what you like doing。 I know a fellow
who es down from London about this time every year
to watch them。 It’s a great place for the wild geese and
the ducks。 I’ve heard this man say that it’s one of the
best places for birds in the country。”
“It’s about the best place in England；” Ralph replied。
They were all gratified by this praise of their native county；
and Mary now had the pleasure of hearing these short
questions and answers lose their undertone of suspicious
inspection； so far as her brothers were concerned； and
develop into a genuine conversation about the habits of
birds which afterwards turned to a discussion as to the
habits of solicitors； in which it was scarcely necessary for
her to take part。 She was pleased to see that her brothers
liked Ralph； to the extent； that is； of wishing to secure
his good opinion。 Whether or not he liked them it was
impossible to tell from his kind but experienced manner。
Now and then she fed the fire with a fresh log； and as the
room filled with the fine； dry heat of burning wood； they
all； with the exception of Elizabeth； who was outside the
range of the fire； felt less and less anxious about the
effect they were making； and more and more inclined for
sleep。 At this moment a vehement scratching was heard
on the door。
“Piper！—oh； damn！—I shall have to get up；” murmured
Christopher。
“It’s not Piper； it’s Pitch；” Edward grunted。
“All the same； I shall have to get up；” Christopher
grumbled。 He let in the dog； and stood for a moment by
the door； which opened into the garden； to revive himself
with a draught of the black； starlit air。
“Do e in and shut the door！” Mary cried； half turning
in her chair。
“We shall have a fine day tomorrow；” said Christopher
with placency； and he sat himself on the floor at her
feet； and leant his back against her knees； and stretched
out his long stockinged legs to the fire—all signs that he
felt no longer any restraint at the presence of the stranger。
He was the youngest of the family； and Mary’s favorite； partly
because his character resembled hers； as Edward’s character
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resembled Elizabeth’s。 She made her knees a fortable
rest for his head； and ran her fingers through his hair。
“I should like Mary to stroke my head like that；” Ralph
thought to himself suddenly； and he looked at Christopher；
almost affectionately； for calling forth his sister’s
caresses。 Instantly he thought of Katharine； the thought
of her being surrounded by the spaces of night and the
open air； and Mary； watching him； saw the lines upon his
forehead suddenly deepen。 He stretched out an arm and
placed a log upon the fire； constraining himself to fit it
carefully into the frail red scaffolding； and also to limit
his thoughts to this one room。
Mary had ceased to stroke her brother’s head； he moved
it impatiently between her knees； and； much as though
he were a child； she began once more to part the thick；
reddishcolored locks this way and that。 But a far stronger
passion had taken possession of her soul than any
her brother could inspire in her； and； seeing Ralph’s change
of expression； her hand almost automatically continued
its movements； while her mind plunged desperately for
some hold upon slippery banks。
CHAPTER XVI
Into that same black night； almost； indeed； into the very
same layer of starlit air； Katharine Hilbery was now gazing；
although not with a view to the prospects of a fine
day for duck shooting on the morrow。 She was walking up
and down a gravel path in the garden of Stogdon House；
her sight of the heavens being partially intercepted by
the light leafless hoops of a pergola。 Thus a spray of
clematis would pletely obscure Cassiopeia； or blot
out with its black pattern myriads of miles of the Milky
Way。 At the end of the pergola； however； there was a
stone seat； from which the sky could be seen pletely
swept clear of any earthly interruption； save to the right；
indeed； where a line of elmtrees was beautifully sprinkled
with stars； and a low stable building had a full drop of
quivering silver just issuing from the mouth of the chimney。
It was a moonless night； but the light of the stars
was sufficient to show the outline of the young woman’s
form； and the shape of her face gazing gravely； indeed
almost sternly； into the sky。 She had e out into the
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winter’s night； which was mild enough； not so much to
look with scientific eyes upon the stars； as to shake herself
free from certain purely terrestrial discontents。 Much
as a literary person in like circumstances would begin；
absentmindedly； pulling out volume after volume； so she
stepped into the garden in order to have the stars at
hand； even though she did not look at them。 Not to be
happy； when she was supposed to be happier than she
would ever be again—that； as far as she could see； was
the origin of a discontent which had begun almost as
soon as she arrived； two days before； and seemed now so
intolerable that she had left the family party； and e
out here to consider it by herself。 It was not she who
thought herself unhappy； but her cousins； who thought it
for her。 The house was full of cousins； much of her age； or
even younger； and among them they had some terribly
bright eyes。 They seemed always on the search for something
between her and Rodney； which they expected to
find； and yet did not find； and when they searched；
Katharine became aware of wanting what she had not
been conscious of wanting in London； alone with William
and her parents。 Or； if she did not want it； she missed it。
And this state of mind depressed her； because she had
been accustomed always to give plete satisfaction；
and her selflove was now a little ruffled。 She would have
liked to break through the reserve habitual to her in order
to justify her engagement to some one whose opinion
she valued。 No one had spoken a word of criticism；
but they left her alone with William； not that that would
have mattered； if they had not left her alone so politely；
and； perhaps； that would not have mattered if they had
not seemed so queerly silent； almost respectful； in her
presence； which g