IN WASHINGYON,.
432 KATE'S WINTER
A little error in time, that was all—the boy was being dispatched by Lily with the note at that moment; but it wae wonderfully near the truth for either of the Marsdens to come.
“Very well,” said Kate: “then I must go back, I suppose you will both be at Mrs. Gregory's this evening.”
“Lily will, I may possibly have to go to New York tonight.”
“Indeed! For long?” Kate asked, rising from her seat.
“Some days—a week, perhaps. So, please don’t grudge me five minutes. I am sure there is nothing very dreadful in your sitting still, even if the lady of the house is not keeping guard—I believe that sort of prudishness went out with our grandmothers.”
Like most girls of the present generation, there was nothing Kate detested more than being considered a prude—so she sat down again.
“I meant to come round and bid you good- by,” he went on.
“You did not speak of going last night,” she said.
“No. I received news this morning that de cided me.
“Lily will be quite alone.”
“Yes, I could have wished her to be with you. Indeed, f am not sure but I should have asked the favor, she is such a timid puss, if it had not been for last night.”
“How do you mean?” asked Kate, not be- cause she had failed to understand, but because it was easier to ask a question than to say anything else.
“I think you must know—you must have seen. It was quite evident that your uncle was displeased with her from some cause—perhaps with me.”
“I have not seen him this morning,” Kate said, evasively.
Marsden was silent for a little, then he said, hurriedly,
“Kate, you must feel that something menaces our friendship—you know what a grief that would be to Lily; but you don’t know, you can’t, what it would be to me.”
“I am not in the habit of giving up my friends without good cause,” Kate answered, loftily.
“I don't know what it is,” Philip continued, “but I am certain your uncle has become prejudiced against us. I am quite aware that I have powerful enemies, and Lily is so dread- fully imprudent.”
“As I told you, I don't know at all, for I have had no conversation with my uncle.”
“But I am right.”
“Yes, I am afraid so, from his manner and the few words he said as he bade me good- night."
Philip struck his hand against his forehead with a low exclamation of pain; then leaned his elbow on the table to support his head, ond looked straight before him at a bust of Clytie, sufficiently elevated to give his eyes their most telling expression.
“Heaven knows my life has not been an easy one,” he went on, in the studied monotone that was so effective. “I have borne a great deal that was very hard, but fate has never aimed a blow that went home so close as this.”
Kate was greatly moved, and felt the tears so near her eyes that she dared not raise them.
“It may be all a mistake,” she said, forcing herself to speak calmly. “I am sorry that I did not see my uncle this morning, At least, you know that I have the fullest confidence in both you and Lily—that you are the dearest friends I have on earth.”
“God bless you for those words!” exclaimed Marsden, with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. “Whatever comes, I shall remember them.”
“You speak as if some serious trouble menaced you,” Kate said. “I hope it is only because you are out of spirits this morning.”
“Yes, without doubt, that must be it,” he answered, with a tragic laugh.
“If there is any annoyance or trouble hanging over you and Lily, you must know how grieved I am,” Kate said,
“Yes, I believe that, I am past believing many things in this world—but I do believe that,”
“I am sure neither you or she could doubt it.”
“Not for an instant, my dear little sister. I should be a more wretched man even than I am if I could.”
“And please, don’t think me impertinent, but tell me if you have some business anxiety that makes you so sad.
“None of importance—nothing that I am thinking of now,” he answered, with a deeper, gloom in his voice, more troubled shadow in his eyes.
Kate's next thought was that Lily had com mitted some greater imprudence than ordinary, and that either he was annoyed and jealous, or pained on her account, lest her conduct should expose her to the comments and animadversions of the world.
“If Lily has done anything to annoy you, she will be the first to grieve,” she said. “You know how impulsive she is, how easily carried �
