attending to what he said, but was listening, and for a moment he, too, listened for sounds outside the room. His certainty that there was some understanding between Denham and Katharine returned, but with a most unpleasant suspicion that there was something illicit about it, as the whole position between the young people seemed to him gravely illicit.
“I’ll speak to Denham,” he said, on the impulse of his suspicion, moving as if to go.
“I shall come with you,” Katharine said instantly, starting forward.
“You will stay here,” said her father.
“What are you going to say to him?” she asked.
“I suppose I may say what I like in my own house?” he returned.
“Then I go too,” she replied.
At these words, which seemed to imply a determination to go—to go for ever, Mr. Hilbery returned to his position in front of the fire, and began swaying slightly from side to side without for the moment making any remark.
“I understood you to say that you were not engaged to him,” he said at length, fixing his eyes upon his daughter.
“We are not engaged,” she said.
“It should be a matter of indifference to you, then, whether he comes here or not—I will not have you listening to other things when I am speaking to you!”
he broke off angrily, perceiving a slight movement on her part to one side. “Answer me frankly, what is your relationship with this young man?”
“Nothing that I can explain to a third person,” she said obstinately.
“I will have no more of these equivocations,” he replied.
“I refuse to explain,” she returned, and as she said it the front door banged to. “There!” she exclaimed. “He
