Part 42 (1/2)

”I suppose you want me to tell you the story?”

All Kitty in the words! Her frankness, her daring, and the impatient, realistic tone she was apt to impose upon emotion--they were all there.

Ashe rose and began to walk up and down.

”Tell me your part in it,” he said, at last--”and as little of that fellow as may be.”

Kitty was silent. Ashe, looking at her, saw a curious shade of reverie, a kind of dreamy excitement steal over her face.

”Go on, Kitty!” he said, sharply. Then, restraining himself, he added, with all his natural courtesy--”I beg your pardon, Kitty, but the sooner we get through with this the better.”

The mist in which her expression had been for a moment wrapped fell away. She flushed deeply.

”I told you I had done nothing vile!” she said, pa.s.sionately. ”Did you believe me?”

Their eyes met in a shock of challenge and reply.

”Those things are not to be asked between you and me,” he said, with vehemence, and he held out his hand. She just touched it--proudly. Then she drew a long breath.

”The day was--just like other days. He read me his poems--in a cool place we found under the bank. I thought he was rather absurd now and then--and different from what he had been. He talked of our going away--and his not seeing me--and how lonely he was. And of course I was awfully sorry for him. But it was all right till--”

She paused and looked at Ashe.

”You remember the inn near Hamel Weir--a few miles from Windsor--that lonely little place.”

Ashe nodded.

”We dined there. Afterwards we were to row to Windsor and come home by a train about ten. We finished dinner early. By-the-way, there were two other people there--Lady Edith Manley and her boy. They had rowed down from somewhere--”

”Did Lady Edith--”

”Yes--she spoke to me. She was going back to town--to the Holland House party--”

”Where she probably met mother?”

”She did meet her!” cried Kitty. She pointed to a letter which she had thrown down as she entered. ”Your mother sent round this note to me this morning--to ask when I should be at home. And Wilson sent word--There!

Of course I know she thinks I'm capable of anything.”

She looked at him, defiant, but very miserable and pale.

”Go on, please,” said Ashe.

”We finished dinner early. There was a field behind the inn, and then a wood. We strolled into the wood, and then Geoffrey--well, he went mad!

He--”

She bit her lip fiercely, struggling for composure--and words.

”He proposed to you to throw me over?” said Ashe, as white as she.