It was obvious again that William had some meaning or other to-night, or was in some mood.

"We've struck up a friendship," he added.
"She's at home, I think," Katharine replied.
"They keep her too much at home," said William.

"Why don't you ask her to stay with you, and let her hear a little good music?
I'll just finish what I was saying, if you don't mind, because I'm particularly anxious that she should hear to-morrow." Katharine sank back in her chair, and Rodney took the paper on his knees, and went on with his sentence.

"Style, you know, is what we tend to neglect--"; but he was far more conscious of Katharine's eye upon him than of what he was saying about style.

He knew that she was looking at him, but whether with irritation or indifference he could not guess.
In truth, she had fallen sufficiently into his trap to feel uncomfortably roused and disturbed and unable to proceed on the lines laid down for herself.