He was going
out, he had on his hat and was drawing on his gloves.
"It doesn't seem to me that you are treating me just now with all the
consideration I deserve," he said in a moment.
"I don't know what I have done," Catherine answered, with her eyes on
her work.
"You have apparently quite banished from your mind the request I made
you at Liverpool, before we sailed; the request that you would notify
me in advance before leaving my house."
"I have not left your house!" said Catherine.
"But you intend to leave it, and by what you gave me to understand,
your departure must be impending. In fact, though you are still here
in body, you are already absent in spirit. Your mind has taken up
its residence with your prospective husband, and you might quite as
well be lodged under the conjugal roof, for all the benefit we get
from your society."
"I will try and be more cheerful!" said Catherine.
"You certainly ought to be cheerful, you ask a great deal if you are
not. To the pleasure of marrying a brilliant young man, you add that
of having your own way; you strike me as a very lucky young lady!"
Catherine got up; she was suffocating. But she folded her work,
deliberately and correctly, bending her burning face upon it. Her
father stood where he had planted himself; she hoped he would go, but
he smoothed and buttoned his gloves, and then he rested his hands
upon his hips.
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