She stood looking over the gate, the walnut branches dark overhead, a
level ray of sunlight on her strange alluring eyes and full bosom. Mr.
Muller lingered, smoothing his hat before he put it on.

"She has not at all the intellectual power of Maria," he thought.
"Maria's the sort of woman I ought to have chosen, I suppose," being
a reformer, first of all, in the very grain. But the silly thought of
holding her hand or kissing her lips came to him at the moment, and
tormented him thereafter with a feverish desire.


CHAPTER V.

Catharine stood a long time by the gate.

"Don't question the child," said Peter to her mother. He would not
even look at her when she came in, but fidgeted about, his leathery
jaws red as a girl's at the thought that Kitty loved and was beloved.

"Is supper over? I'm hungry," was all she said. They watched her
furtively as she ate.

"It's prayer-meeting night, Catharine," said Mrs. Guinness when she
was through, taking her bonnet from the closet.

"I'm not going."

"Mr. Muller will miss you, my dear."