"Well, I hope that is so; I should not like to think otherwise. Anyway,
a word in season does no harm; and, take you notice that I have spoken
it. You also, Emma."

As he left the room, Mrs. Carradyne spoke, dropping her voice:
"Katherine, you know that I had already warned you. I told you it would
not do to fall into any particular friendship with Mr. Dancox; that your
father would never countenance it."

"And if I were to?--and if he did not?" scornfully returned Katherine.
"What then, Aunt Emma?"

"Be silent, child; you must not talk in that strain. Your papa is
perfectly right in this matter. Tom Dancox is not suitable in any
way--for _you_."

This took place in November. Katherine paid little heed to the advice;
she was not one to put up with advice of any sort, and she and Mr.
Dancox met occasionally under the rose. Early in December she went with
Mr. Dancox into the Parsonage, while he searched for a book he was
about to lend her. That was the plea; the truth, no doubt, being that
the two wanted a bit of a chat in quiet. As ill-luck had it, when she
was coming out again, the Parson in attendance on her as far as the
gate, Captain Monk came by.

A scene ensued. Captain Monk, in a terrible access of passion, vowed by
all the laws of the Medes and Persians, which alter not, that never, in
life or after death, should those two rebellious ones be man and wife,
and he invoked unheard-of penalties on their heads should they dare to
contemplate disobedience to his decree.