"It would be a convenience to me to know when I may expect to have an
empty house," he went on. "When you go, your aunt marches."
She looked at him at last, with a long silent gaze, which, in spite
of her pride and her resolution, uttered part of the appeal she had
tried not to make. Her father's cold grey eye sounded her own, and
he insisted on his point.
"Is it to-morrow? Is it next week, or the week after?"
"I shall not go away!" said Catherine.
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Has he backed out?"
"I have broken off my engagement."
"Broken it off?"
"I have asked him to leave New York, and he has gone away for a long
time."
The Doctor was both puzzled and disappointed, but he solved his
perplexity by saying to himself that his daughter simply
misrepresented--justifiably, if one would? but nevertheless
misrepresented--the facts; and he eased off his disappointment, which
was that of a man losing a chance for a little triumph that he had
rather counted on, by a few words that he uttered aloud.
"How does he take his dismissal?"
"I don't know!" said Catherine, less ingeniously than she had
hitherto spoken.
"You mean you don't care? You are rather cruel, after encouraging
him and playing with him for so long!"
The Doctor had his revenge, after all.
CHAPTER XXXII
Our story has hitherto moved with very short steps, but as it
approaches its termination it must take a long stride.
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