Kate made no reply, but the lines about her mouth deepened. For a moment
he watched her silently; then he continued slowly, in low, nonchalant
tones: "I am positive that when I at last gain your consent to marry me,"--he
paused an instant to note the effect of his words, but there was not the
quiver of an eyelash on her part,--"even then, you will have the
audacity to tell me that you gave it for any other reason under heaven
than consideration for me or my wishes."
"Mr. Walcott," said Kate, facing him with sudden hauteur of tone and
manner, "you are correct. If ever I consent to marry you I can tell you
now as well as then my reason for doing so: it will be simply and solely
for my dear father's sake, for the love I bear him, out of consideration
for his wishes, and with no more thought of you than if you did not
exist."
Conflicting emotions filled Walcott's breast at these words, but he
preserved a calm, smiling exterior. He could not but admire Kate's
spirit; at the same time the thought flashed through his mind that this
apparent slip of a girl might prove rather difficult to "tame;" but he
reflected that the more difficult, the keener would be his enjoyment of
the final victory.
"A novel situation, surely!" he commented, with a low, musical laugh;
"decidedly unique!"
"But, my dear Miss Underwood," he continued, a moment later, "if your
love for your father and regard for his wishes are to constitute your
sole reasons for consenting to become my wife, why need you withhold
that consent longer? I am sure his wishes in the matter will remain
unchanged, as will also your love for him; why then should our marriage
be further delayed?"
"After what I have just told you, Mr. Walcott, do you still ask me to
be your wife?" Kate demanded, indignantly.
"I do, Miss Underwood; and, pardon me, I feel that you have trifled with
me long enough; I must have your answer."
She rose, drawing herself proudly to her full height.
"Take me to my father," she said, imperiously.
Walcott offered his arm, which she refused with a gesture of scorn, and
they proceeded to the adjoining room, where Mr. Underwood and his sister
were seated together before the fire. As Kate advanced towards her
father both looked up simultaneously, and each read in her white face
and proud bearing that a crisis was at hand. Mrs. Dean at once arose and
noiselessly withdrew from the room.
Walcott paused at a little distance from Mr. Underwood, assuming a
graceful attitude as he leaned languidly over the large chair just
vacated by Mrs. Dean, but Kate did not stop till she reached her
father's side, where she bowed coldly to Walcott to proceed with what he
had to say.