"There she goes yonder," said Kate, pointing. "I fear me her spirits are not as light as her footsteps. Are her people very poor?"

"Her father was a herd, I believe," said he, carelessly; "but she does n't live at home."

"Is she married, then?"

"I 'm not sure that she is; but at least she believes that she is."

"Poor thing!" said Kate, calmly, while, folding her arms, she continued to gaze after the departing figure of the country girl. "Poor thing!"

repeated she once more, and turned to walk homewards.

Ma.s.singbred fixed his eyes upon her keenly as she uttered the words; few and simple as they were, they seemed to reveal to him something of the nature of her who spoke them. A mere exclamation--a syllable--will sometimes convey "whole worlds of secret thought and feeling," and it was evidently thus that Ma.s.singbred interpreted this brief expression.

"There was nothing of scorn in that pity," thought he. "I wish she had uttered even one word more! She is a strange creature!"

And it was thus speaking to himself that he walked along at her side.

"This wild and desolate scene is not very like that of which we talked the other night,--when first we met,--Miss Henderson."

"You forget that we never met," said she, calmly.

"True, and yet there was a link between us even in those few flowers thrown at random."

"Don't be romantic, Mr. Ma.s.singbred; do not, I pray you," said she, smiling faintly. "You _know_ it's not your style, while it would be utterly thrown away upon _me_, I am aware that fine gentlemen of your stamp deem this the fitting tone to a.s.sume towards 'the governess;' but I 'm really unworthy of it."

"What a strange girl you are!" said he, half thinking aloud.

"On the contrary, how very commonplace!" said she, hastily.

"Do you like this country?" asked Ma.s.singbred, with an imitation of her own abrupt manner.

"No," said she, shortly.

"Nor the people?"

"Nor the people!" was the answer.

"And is your life to be pa.s.sed amongst them?"

"Perhaps," said she, with a slight gesture of her shoulders. "Don't you know, Mr. Ma.s.singbred," added she, with more energy, "that a woman has no more power to shape her destiny than a leaf has to choose where it will fall? If I were a man,--you, for instance,--I would think and act differently."

"I should like to hear what you would do if in my place," said Jack, with a degree of deep interest in the remark.

"To begin, I'll tell you what I would not do," said she, firmly. "I 'd not waste very good abilities on very small objects; I 'd neither have small ambitions nor small animosities. You have both."

"As how?" asked he, frankly, and with no touch of irritation.

"Am I to be candid?"

"Certainly."

"Even to rudeness?"

"Cut as deeply as you like," said he, smiling.

"Then here goes: For the 'small ambition' I speak of, it was displayed yesterday at dinner, when, in rivalry with that old lawyer, you condescended to play agreeable, to out-talk him, out-quote, and out-anecdote him. It is true you succeeded; but what a poor success it was! how inadequate to the forces that were mustered to effect it!"

"And now for the other count of the indictment," said he, with a half smile.

"First, do you plead guilty to this one?" asked she.

"Yes; with an 'extenuating circ.u.mstance.'"

"What is that?"

"Why, that _you_ were present," said Jack, with a glance of more than mere pa.s.sing gallantry.

"Well," said she, after a pause, "I _did_ take some of the display to my own share. I saw that you did n't care to captivate the young lady of the house, and that my Lady bored you."

"Insufferably!" exclaimed Jack, with energy.

"Your manner showed it," said she, "even more than such polish ought to have betrayed."

"But I 'm sure I never exhibited any signs of my martyrdom," said he; "I stood my torture well."

"Not half so heroically as you fancied I noticed your weariness before the dinner was half over, as I detected your splenetic dislike to young Mr. Nelligan--"

"To young Nelligan?--then he has told you--"

"Stop,--be cautious," broke she in, hurriedly; "don't turn evidence against yourself. _He_ has told me nothing."

"Then what do you know?"

"Nothing; I only surmise."

"And what is your surmise?"

"That he and you had met before,--that you had even been intimate,--and now, from some misunderstanding, you had ceased to be friends. Mind, I don't want confessions; I don't seek to learn your secrets."

"But you shall hear this from me," said Ma.s.singbred, with earnestness; "and perhaps you, so ready to blame me for some things, may see reason to think well of me in this." He then related, briefly, but simply, the history of his acquaintance with Nelligan; he dwelt, not without feeling, upon the pa.s.sages of their student-life, and at last spoke of his chance visit to Oughterard, and the accident by which he became old Nelligan's guest. "What can you make of Joseph's conduct," cried he; "or how explain his refusal to meet me at his father's table? One of two reasons there must be. He either discredits me in the character of his friend, or shrinks, with an ign.o.ble shame, from appearing there in his real position,--the son of the country shopkeeper! I scarcely know if I 'd not prefer he should have been actuated by the former motive; though more offensive to me, in _him_ it were more manly."

"Why not have asked him which alternative he accepted?" asked Kate.

"Because the opportunity to wound him deeply--incurably--first presented itself. I knew well that nothing would hurt him like the cool a.s.sumption of not recognizing him, and I determined not to lose my vengeance."

"I'm a woman," said Kate, "and I'd not have stooped to _that!_"

It was rarely that Ma.s.singbred's emotions gave any evidence of their working; but now his cheek grew crimson, as he said, "A man can only measure a man's indignation."

"You are angry without cause," said she, calmly; "you wish me to p.r.o.nounce a verdict on an act, and are displeased because I think differently from you. How right I was in my guess that small animosities were amongst your failings! You seek now to quarrel with _me!_"