with you for a minute or two, but I am too tired to talk."

"Your hair is in utter disorder," remarked her mother.

"It is no matter," returned Katherine, following her sister-in-law out
of the room.

Her dress was by no means becoming. It was of thin black material, the
remains of her last year's mourning; the white frill at her throat was
crushed by the friction of her jacket, and some splashes on the skirt
gave her a travel-stained aspect. But no disorder could hide the fine
warm bronze brown of her abundant hair, nor disguise the shape of her
brows and eyes, though the eyes themselves lost something of their color
from the paleness of her cheeks; nor did her weariness detract from the
charm of her delicate upturned chin.

"Here is my naughty sister-in-law, who has been wandering about all the
morning alone, and making us quite uneasy."

"What! In search of further adventures--eh?" asked Colonel Ormonde,
rising and making an elaborate bow. He spoke in a tone half paternal,
half gallant, in right of which elderly gentlemen sometimes take
liberties.

"I went to do a commission for my mother," said Katherine,
indifferently.

"Ah! if we had a corps of such _commissionnaires_ as you are, we should
spend our lives sending and receiving messages," returned the Colonel,
with a laugh. He spoke in short authoritative sentences, with a loud