He did not find it necessary.

Now that he had begun to think of marriage, who so suitable as Kathleen?
He knew of Fairing's adoration, but he took it as a matter of course that
she had nothing to give of the same sort in return. Her beauty was still
serene and unimpaired. He would not spoil it by the tortures of emotion.
He would try to make Kathleen's heart beat in harmony with his own; it
should not thunder out of time. He had made up his mind that he would
marry her.

For Kathleen, with the great trial, the beginning of the end had come.
Charley's power over her was subtle, finely sensuous, and, in deciding,
there were no mere heart-impulses working for Charley. Instinct and
impulse were working in another direction. She had not committed her
mind to either man, though her heart, to a point, was committed to
Fairing.

On the day of the trial, however, she fell wholly under that influence
which had swayed judge, jury, and public. To her the verdict of the jury
was not in favour of the prisoner at the bar--she did not think of him.
It was in favour of Charley Steele.

And so, indifferent as to who heard, over the heads of the people in
front of her, to the accused's counsel inside the railings, she had
called, softly: "Charley! Charley!"

Now, in the house under the hill, they were face to face, and the end was
at hand: the end of something and the beginning of something.

There was a few moments of casual conversation, in which Billy talked as