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 William looked perturbed. He knew more of Katharine than Cassandra did, but even he could not tell. In a second Katharine was back again dressed in outdoor things, still holding her bread and butter in her bare hand.

“If I’m late, don’t wait for me,” she said. “I shall have dined,” and so saying, she left them.

“But she can’t—” William exclaimed, as the door shut, “not without any gloves and bread and butter in her hand!” They ran to the window, and saw her walking rapidly along the street towards the City. Then she vanished.

“She must have gone to meet Mr. Denham,” Cassandra exclaimed.

“Goodness knows!” William interjected.

The incident impressed them both as having something queer and ominous about it out of all proportion to its surface strangeness.

“It’s the sort of way Aunt Maggie behaves,” said Cassandra, as if in explanation.

William shook his head, and paced up and down the room looking extremely perturbed.

“This is what I’ve been foretelling,” he burst out. “Once set the ordinary conventions aside—Thank Heaven Mrs. Hilbery is away. But there’s Mr. Hilbery. How are we to explain it to him? I shall have to leave you.”

“But Uncle Trevor won’t be back for hours, William!” Cassandra implored.

“You never can tell. He may be on his way already. Or suppose Mrs. Milvain—your Aunt Celia—or Mrs. Cosham, or any other of your aunts or uncles should be shown in and find us alone together. You know what they’re saying about us already.”

Cassandra was equally stricken by the sight of William’s agitation, and appalled by the prospect of his desertion.

“We might hide,” she exclaimed wildly, glancing