"I beg your pardon. I ought not to have said that. But it is
hard--there, I am offending you again!"

"Yes, you must not talk like that. It's wrong; it would be wrong even if
you meant it."

"Do you think I don't mean it?"

"That would be very discreditable--but not so bad."

"You know I mean it," he said, in a low voice. "God knows I would have
said nothing if--"

"If what?"

"I shall offend you more than ever. But how can I stand by and see
_that_?" and Haddington pointed with fine scorn to the neglected book.

Kate was not agitated. She seldom was. In a tone of grave rebuke, she
said:

"You must never speak like this again. I thought I saw something of it.
["Good!" thought Haddington.] But whatever may be my lot, I am now bound
to it. Pledges are not to be broken."

"Are they not being virtually broken?" he asked, growing bolder as he
saw she listened to him.

Kate rose.