Several months before the events just related, as Mollie Hepworth was returning late to the hospital at Netley, she was arrested by seeing a figure lying by the roadside. Her professional instincts were at once aroused, and she hurried towards it. She bent down, to discover a gentlemanly-looking, well-dressed man. He was breathing heavily, and was evidently quite unconscious.

She gave a hurried exclamation, and fell on her knees by his side. She took one of his limp hands in hers, and bending low, perceived a smell like that of opium on his breath. Had he been drugged by another? What could have happened? Her first instinct was to shield him from any possible disgrace; her second, to restore him to consciousness. She looked to right and left of her. The road was lonely – there was no one in sight. Exercising all her strength, she pulled the man more to one side. She then applied a vinaigrette, which she happened to have about her, to his nostrils, and finding a little stream of water not far off, took some in the palms of both hands, and flung the liquid over his face. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked at her.

"Where am I?" he said. "Who are you? What has happened?"

"I am a nurse," said Mollie – "a Sister of the Red Cross. I am a nurse at the Royal Victoria Hospital. I found you lying here: Let me help you home."

"Oh! what can have happened to me?" he exclaimed heavily, and yet with great consternation in his voice. "Give me your hand," he said then. "I am better; I can walk alone if you will help me to rise."

She got him to his feet with some difficulty, but he tottered, and she had to give him her arm.

"Lean on me," she said. "Where shall I take you?"

"I remember everything now," he replied, speaking more to himself than to her. "I have been drugged: I felt the effects, and came for a walk, hoping to walk them off. Before I knew what I was doing I became unconscious. What would have happened to me if you had not been passing by?"

"Some one else would have found you," said Mollie.

"It would have been reported at barracks, and I should have been disgraced."

"You are one of the officers, then?"

"Yes."

"Well, I will take you back."

"I will walk with you a little way, but I am fast getting better. What a mercy you found me!" he kept on repeating at intervals.

He leaned heavily against her. She was strong and tall. They paused at last just outside the barracks, under a lamp. The light fell full on her face. He looked into her eyes, and the colour mounted into his own forehead.

"To whom am I indebted?" he asked.

"To a Sister of the Red Cross," she replied. "But I don't need thanks," she added hastily; "I am only too glad to have been able to help you."

"As far as I can tell, I owe my life to you," he replied.

He looked at her as if he expected her to say more; but she did not ask his name. There was an expression of relief on his face as she turned away.

"Good-night; God bless you!" he said. "I shall thank you for this in my heart to the longest day I live."

She held out her hand, and he grasped it. Never before had he felt so strong, so cool, so firm, so strength-giving a hand.

Mollie went back to the hospital, and in the rush and excitement of her daily life more or less forgot this incident. But to-night, when Captain Keith entered the room, it all came back to her; for the handsome, careless face of Gavon Keith was the very same she had seen, pale and under the influence of opium, a short time ago. She had noticed then the upright figure, the straight features, the shape of the eyes, the well-formed lips, and as she recognized him she saw by a light which suddenly rushed into his eyes that he recognized her.

Mollie sat down and thought over this strange circumstance. She had been tired, really tired, when she left the drawing-room; but she was wide awake now, and not at all inclined to go to bed. It was past midnight when Kitty, her cheeks on fire, her eyes dancing, came into the room.

"What!" said the younger sister; "still up, Mollie? I thought you were so sleepy! Do you know, I stayed downstairs on purpose just to give you a chance to get very sound asleep before I disturbed you."

"I shall have plenty of time for sleep later on," replied Mollie.

"Oh, you made me so jealous, my darling Moll, when you talked to Gavon; but I am all right now. I will just slip off my dress, put on my dressing-gown, and we can renew our delightful conversation while we brush our hair."

"No," said Mollie, rising abruptly. "I find that, after all, I am tired. I want to go to bed."

Kitty looked at her in some surprise.

"But what does this mean?" she said. "I have so much to say to you. I cannot rest until you have told me what you think of him."

"Think of whom, Kate?"

"How stiff of you to call me Kate! No one does unless they are displeased. Are you displeased with me, my own Mollie – are you?"

"You must not talk nonsense, Kitty," said Mollie, in a grave voice. "I am tired, and am really determined to go to bed. I shall not utter another word to keep you from your own rest."

Kitty pouted, but Mollie was resolute. She was not a nurse for nothing. She knew that Kitty was already so excited that she might not sleep for some time. The sooner she got to bed, however, the better.

With a discontented pout on her rosy lips Kitty watched her elder sister undress. The little girl was happy, however; the last hour with Gavon had chased all uncomfortable feelings away. He did love her – he must love her. Was there not love in his eyes and tenderness in his voice? The moment, therefore, she laid her head on her pillow she fell asleep, to dream of him.

Not so Mollie. She felt uncomfortable and alarmed. She dreaded she knew not what. An intuition had already taken possession of her that Kitty's love affair was not to end happily. She doubted very much whether Keith really cared for her little sister. If so, what was to become of Kitty's passion? Keith had looked at Mollie as if he wished to confide in her. Would he allude to that circumstance in both their lives which had taken place a few months ago?

It was towards morning when the tired girl sank into slumber, and in consequence it was late before she arose. When she opened her eyes, Kitty was standing over her.

"Gavon has gone out long ago," she said, "and Aunt Louisa too; and it is nearly ten o'clock, and we have all breakfasted. And you, you lazy girl, are to have breakfast all by yourself in the morning-room. Or would you prefer it here?"

"Oh no; I am ashamed of myself," said Mollie. "I will get up at once and join you downstairs within half an hour."

"You are privileged, you know, Mollie dear," said Kitty. "Aunt Louisa says the carriage is to return for us both at eleven o'clock. I want to do some shopping, and I thought perhaps you would come with me."

"With pleasure, dear," replied Mollie.

The moment her sister left the room she rose, dressed in her nurse's uniform, and went downstairs. When she entered the morning-room Kitty was seated at the tea tray, looking as radiant and free from care as girl could look.

"Gavon was in a great state of excitement when he went off this morning," she said to her sister. "He is persuaded there will be war."

"Well, and if there is war," said Mollie, "it will do us a great deal of good. Oh, I know you think me heartless, but our army wants active service again. We need to test our strength."

"You talk just as though you belonged to the army yourself," said Kitty.

"And so I do. If there is fighting, I shall be in the thick of it."

"You don't think of me," cried Kitty, turning pale. "Please remember that if there is fighting Gavon is certain to be sent to the front. You will go as nurse, and he will go as soldier. What is to become of poor Kitty?"

"Kitty will be brave, and help us all she can at home," replied Mollie.

"That is all very fine," said Kitty, "but I must tell you frankly I don't like the rôle."

Mollie looked up as Kitty spoke.

"You are changed," she said slowly. "In some ways I should not know you."

"What do you mean?"

"You have been too much in the world, Kitty. My little Kitty, did I do wrong to leave you? When mother died she left you in my charge. Did I do wrong to let Mrs. Keith adopt you? It seems to me – I scarcely like to say it – that you – "

"Oh, do say it, please – do say it," remarked Kitty.

"You are less unselfish than you used to be, and more – oh, I hate myself even for thinking it – more worldly."

"No, no, I am not; but I am anxious," replied the younger girl. "There are many things to make me – yes, anxious just now. But I hope I shall be the happiest girl on earth soon."

"Kitty, suppose – "

"Suppose what?" asked Kitty. "Oh, what awful thing are you going to say now, Mollie?"

"Nothing. I won't say it," replied Mollie suddenly. "I have finished breakfast. I can go out with you whenever you like."

Kitty gazed in a frightened way at her sister.

"It is nothing, dear," said Mollie tenderly. "I have given you my little lecture, and I will say nothing further at present."

"And I am not all bad, and I love you, and I hope to be the happiest girl on earth before long," was Kitty's rejoinder. And then she flew upstairs to put on her hat and jacket.

The girls drove first to Madame Dupuys, a fashionable dressmaker in Bond Street. Madame received them both in her large showroom. Her face was rather grave.

"I had hoped to have a letter from you before now, Miss Hepworth," she said, in a significant tone, to Kitty.

"It is all right," replied Kitty. "You may expect to hear from me any day."

"Very well, miss."

"And I want to order a dress at once. I am going on Monday evening to the fancy ball at the Countess of Marsden's house on the Thames. I cannot possibly wear any of my old dresses."

"What will you have?" asked the dressmaker.

"Something very, very pretty, and absolutely out of the common. Madame, I should like to introduce my sister to you; she is a Red Cross nurse."

Madame bowed gravely in Mollie's direction. She was a very handsome woman, beautifully dressed.

"We are all interested in the Red Cross Sisters," she said, after a moment's pause. "Have you heard the latest news, miss? They say war will be declared within the week!"

Kitty turned white.

"I am determined not to think of disagreeable things before they occur," she said; "and I want my dress to be white, with silver over it. Now, do show me some designs."

"I will fetch some fashion-books," said madame, "and we can discuss the style."

"Kitty," said Mollie, the moment they were alone, "surely you are not in debt for any of your beautiful clothes?"

Kitty's face looked troubled.

"I am just a wee bit harassed," she said slowly, "but it will be all right by-and-by. Don't worry, Mollie."

"It seems so wrong," replied Mollie.

"You know nothing about it," answered Kitty, tapping her small foot impatiently on the floor. "I go out a great deal, and I have to look my best, because – " she stopped. "You would act as I do if you had the same reasons," she continued. "And you must remember that in about another year I shall have plenty of money."

"Well, it is wrong to go in debt," replied Mollie. "If you are in money difficulties, it would be far better to speak to Mrs. Keith."

"To Aunt Louisa? Never! she would tell Gavon. Ah, here comes madame. – Madame, my sister has been reading me such a lecture," and Kitty smiled her incorrigible smile.

Madame Dupuys made no remark. She opened the fashion-book, and soon Miss Hepworth and the dressmaker were deep in consultation over the material and style of the new dress.

"Don't you think it will be exquisite, Mollie?" said Kitty, as they left the showroom.

"Very pretty indeed, dear," replied Mollie.

They came home to lunch, where Captain Keith awaited them.

"My mother has left you a message," he said. "She is going to see a friend, and will not be back until dinner time. Now, I happen to have a whole afternoon at my own disposal. If I place it at yours, can you make any use of me?"

"O Gavon, how quite too heavenly!" said Kitty. "You shall take us somewhere. This dear Mollie does not know her London a bit. Her education must be attended to, and without any loss of time. And, Gavon, I have been ordering a dress for the Countess of Marsden's dance on Monday."

"Another dress!" said Keith, shrugging his shoulders. "What an extravagant girl!"

"Don't you like me to wear pretty dresses? I thought you did."

"Of course I do; and you look charming in everything you put on, but I did not know you wanted a new dress. You had something soft and furry, like the breast of a rabbit, the last time you went to a dance with me. I remember it quite well, although I cannot describe it; for the fur was always touching my shoulder, and it came off a little. I found the white hairs on my coat the next morning."

Kitty blushed.

"I am glad you liked that dress," she said; "but you will like what I am going to appear in on Monday even better. I want to be a vision – a dream."

Keith looked at her; a thoughtful expression came into his eyes. He noted the colour which came and went on her checks, the brightness of her brown eyes, the love light, too, which was all too visible, as those well-opened eyes fixed themselves on his face.

"Poor little girl!" he said to himself. Then he glanced at Mollie, and his heart beat quickly. "If only those two could exchange places!" he thought; "it would be easy then to – "

He checked the unfinished thought with a sigh which was scarcely perceptible.

"Where shall we go?" he said. He took out his watch. "Although it is out of the season, there is a passable concert at St. James's Hall, and you are so fond of music, Kit. What does Sister Mollie say?"

"Oh, please call me Mollie," said the elder girl.

"What would you like, Mollie?" he asked.

"The concert, by all means."

"We can take tickets at the door. We will go there, and afterwards have tea at my club."

"Delicious!" said Kitty. "You don't know, Mollie, what tea at Gavon's club is like. Only I do wish – "

"What, dear?"

"That you would not wear your uniform. I didn't think nurses thought it necessary when they were taking holidays."

"I won't, if you dislike it," said Mollie. "I have brought a dress which I can wear. It is not very fashionable, but I don't suppose that matters."

"Would you not rather, Gavon, that Mollie did not come in her uniform?" asked Kitty, in an eager voice.

"Mollie must do exactly what she pleases," was the reply.

"I see you would both rather not have attention drawn to me," said Mollie. "That is quite enough. I will dress as an ordinary lady."

"And lose a good deal," said Gavon. "But perhaps you are right. There is so much disturbance in the air, that anything even savouring of the military draws attention at the present moment."

"Come upstairs at once, Mollie, and I will help to turn you into a fashionable lady," said Kitty, with a laugh.

CHAPTER IV.
THE CONCERT

But this was more easily said than done. Mollie had a certain style about her – the style which accompanies a perfectly-made body and a well-ordered mind. But she had none of that peculiar appearance which constitutes fashion. Her hair was simply knotted at the back of her head, and was without fringe or wave. The only dress she had at her disposal had been made two years ago. The sleeves were too large for the prevailing mode, and the bodice was by no means smart. Mollie, however, put on her unfashionable garment with the best faith in the world, and tripped up to Kitty when her toilet was complete.

"How do you like me?" she said.

Kitty turned to her, and her brown eyes flashed fire.

"Oh, you must not go out looking like that," she was about to say. But she suddenly stopped.

She herself was the very perfection of dainty neatness, of fashionable, yet not too fashionable, attire. Her hair was picturesquely arranged. Her hat was stylish; the very veil which hid and yet revealed the roses on her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes was what the world would call the mode. Beside this dainty and perfectly-arrayed little personage Mollie looked almost dowdy.

"And I could change all that in a minute," thought Kitty. "It is just to lend her my brown hat with its plume of feathers, and the jacket which came home last week, and the deed is done. But shall I do it? Gavon already admires her too much. Now is the time for him to see the difference between us. She shall go as she is. I dare not run the risk of losing him; and he likes her – oh, I know he likes her. This day, perhaps, will settle matters; and Mollie, my darling Mollie, for my sake you must not look your best."

Aloud, Kitty said in a careless tone, —

"Very nice, indeed, Mollie. And how do I look? What do you think of your little sister?"

"How pretty your face is," replied Mollie, "and how neat your figure! Do you remember how I used to scold you long ago for not walking upright? You are very upright now."

But as Mollie spoke Kitty perceived that she had never glanced at the fashionable dress. She only saw the soul in the bright eyes and the happy smile round the lips. Gavon's voice calling them was heard from below. They ran downstairs.

When they appeared, Captain Keith glanced from one sister to the other. He was dimly conscious that a change, and that not exactly for the better, had come over Mollie, and that Kitty looked, as she always did, the perfection of charm. Nevertheless, the expression in Mollie's eyes and the tone of her voice continued to arouse that strange, delicious foreign feeling in his breast. He found that he liked to touch her hand, and that he also liked to look into her brown eyes. He was not yet aware of his own sensations. He only thought, —

"I am but tracing the extraordinary likeness and the extraordinary difference between these two girls. Of course I know Kitty's dear little phiz, and Mollie's is almost the same, feature for feature, and yet there never were any two girls who have less in common."

The three arrived at St. James's Hall in good time. Gavon secured seats for his party, and they soon found themselves listening to a fine concert. Mollie had a passion for music, and as she sat now and allowed it to fill both heart and soul, her eyes kindled, and the colour came rich and deep into her cheeks. Gavon continued to watch her almost stealthily. Kitty chatted whenever she could find a moment to give her gay little voice a chance of being heard. Gavon sat between the two; he answered Kitty, and talked with her, scolding her now and then, and desiring her on many occasions to "hush," "not to make so much noise," to "behave herself," and much more to the same effect. As long as he spoke to her at all, poor Kitty was in the seventh heaven of bliss. From her present position she could not see how often he glanced at Mollie, and fancied that her little stratagem to make her sister not look quite at her best was bringing the most satisfactory results.

The first half of the concert was over, when a man pushed his way along the line of people and dropped into a seat by Kitty's side. She uttered an exclamation, half of annoyance and half of pleasure.

"How do you do, Miss Hepworth?" he said. "I have not seen you for a very long time. – Ah, Keith, how are you?"

"I did not know you were in London, Major Strause," answered the girl.

"London is practically empty; but, all the same, this war news is bringing many of us up," he replied.

Mollie looked round to see what the newcomer was like. She noticed a somewhat thick-set man, with reddish hair and a very long moustache. His eyes were of a light blue. His face was considerably freckled. Mollie voted him at once commonplace and uninteresting, and would not have bestowed any further thought upon him had she not observed a curious change in Keith's appearance. His face turned first white, then stern and sombre. He ceased to talk to Kitty, who was devoting herself now, with all that propensity for flirting which was part of her nature, to Major Strause.

"Do you know him well?" asked Mollie suddenly, in a low tone.

Keith gave a start when she addressed him. He turned and looked full at her.

"You already hold a secret of mine," he said, "and I am about to make you a present of another. The man who drugged me that night six months ago is Major Strause."

Mollie had too much self-control to show the surprise which filled her.

"I have something I want to tell you," continued Keith. "Can I see you somewhere alone?"

"Gavon, the music is going to begin again; do stop talking," cried Kitty, in a restless voice.

A girl who made her name at that concert came to the front of the stage, and her magnificent organ-like notes filled the building. Mollie, however, much as she loved music, scarcely listened. It was not only the tone in Gavon Keith's voice, but the words which he had uttered, which filled her mind. Something was undoubtedly wrong.

The song came to an end, and in the furore which followed Keith seized the opportunity to bend again towards Mollie.

"I shall be in the front drawing-room to-night at seven," he said. "Can you come down a few moments before the rest of the party?"

"I ought not," was Mollie's response.

"I ask it as a favour – a great personal favour. Will you refuse me?"

Mollie did not reply for an instant.

"I will come," she said then.

Major Strause did his utmost to make himself agreeable to Kitty, who, after the first moment of excitement, paid him but scant attention. Keith, having received Mollie's promise, was now quite ready to devote himself to the little girl, and his gay remarks and her smart repartees caused considerable laughter on the part of all the young people.

When the concert was over, Major Strause invited the entire party to have tea with him at his club. Mollie looked at Keith, expecting him to reply in the negative; but to her surprise he accepted the invitation with apparent cordiality. They all went to the Carlton, where the major entertained them; and as if thoroughly satisfied with his conversation with Kitty, he now turned his attention to Mollie. She told him she was a Sister of the Red Cross; whereupon he looked her all over, and said, bowing as he spoke, —

"Then we may have the pleasure of meeting again, and under different circumstances."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Why, my dear Miss Hepworth, need you ask? I mean that war is inevitable: my regiment, and that also of my friend Captain Keith, will be among the first ordered to the front. If you are a Sister of the Red Cross – "

"I shall go to South Africa," replied Mollie. She spoke in a low tone, and there was a thrill of enthusiasm in her voice.

"Then we are quite certain to meet again," he said, and he turned from her to Kitty to address a remark on a totally different matter.

It was past six o'clock when the girls got home. Kitty was inclined to dawdle downstairs; but Mollie, remembering her promise to Keith, hurried off to her room. Kitty stayed behind for a moment. She suddenly stretched out her hand to Keith, who took it in some astonishment.

"Well, little girl, what now?" he asked.

"Tell me what you think of her," said Kitty.

"Think of whom?"

"My sister – my Mollie."

"I admire her very much; she reminds me of you."

"Oh, does she?" answered Kitty. She dimpled and smiled. "Is that really why you are so much interested in her, Gavon?"

"It is one of the reasons," he replied, after a pause. "She reminds me most wonderfully of you. But at the same time there is a great gulf between you. Your sister has been trained in one of the finest professions a woman can possibly take up. She has therefore a force of character, an individuality which – "

"Which I lack. Oh, you need not apologize," said Kitty, looking half amused, half sorrowful. "Mollie always, always had just what I lack. But I thought – "

"Let your thoughts run in the old groove, Kitty," replied the young man. "You are the most charming friend a man could possibly possess. But I hear my mother's voice. We shall meet again at dinner."

Kitty mounted the stairs slowly.

"I wonder what Gavon really thinks about me, and about her," she said to herself. "It was to me he spoke whenever he had a chance this afternoon, but it was at her he looked. Did he wonder at her dowdy dress? Darling Mollie was not at her best; and I felt such a wretch, for I could have made her lovely. When once I am engaged to Gavon, my Mollie shall want for nothing."

Kitty hummed a gay air as she entered the large bedroom which the two girls shared. Mollie was arranging her hair before the glass, and the lace evening dress which she had worn on the previous night lay on her bed.

"What a hurry you are in!" cried Kitty. "We have oceans of time. We need not begin to dress until seven o'clock."

"But I must dress at once," replied Mollie.

"Why?"

Mollie did not answer immediately.

"Why?" repeated Kitty, whose nerves were so strained that she could brook no suspense of any sort.

Mollie thought quickly; then she turned and looked at her sister.

"I will tell you," she said. "Captain Keith wants to see me for a minute or two. It is in connection with a matter which I happened to hear about when I was at Netley – a matter of which you know nothing. Dear little girl, if you are worth your salt you will not be jealous."

Kitty's face turned very white.

"But I am jealous," she said then, slowly. "I suppose I am not worth my salt. I am jealous – horribly so. O Mollie, don't go to him; don't, Mollie! Mollie, do stay here, for my sake."

"I am sorry, Kitty. I have promised Captain Keith to give him a few moments, and I cannot break my word. You must trust me, and not be a goose."

Kitty crossed the room slowly. Her very steps trembled. She reached her bed and flung herself on it. When she raised her face after a moment or two, the tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"This is intolerable," thought Mollie. "I never could have guessed that my little sister would be so silly. The best thing I can do is to take no notice." So she checked the impulse to go up to Kitty, take her in her arms, and fuss over her and pet her, and went on with her own toilet.

As the clock was on the stroke of seven she turned to leave the room. She had just reached the door when Kitty gave a cry.

"Mollie," she said.

Mollie went up to her at once.

"Dress yourself like a good child and come down when you are ready," was her remark. "And let me say one thing: Don't be a little goose." Mollie closed the door behind her, and Kitty covered her face with her hands. She shivered.

"Is it true?" she murmured. "Is it possible that after all these months and years, and all these hopes and all these dreams, I am doomed to see him love another, and that other my own sister? Oh, it is too cruel! It will kill me – it will drive me mad!" She clenched her hands till the nails penetrated the tender flesh. Then she opened them wide, and looked at them with self-pity.

"It is too cruel," she said to herself. "Even now he is talking to her, telling her secrets. He never told me a secret in all his life. He has always just been the very dearest of the dear, but he has never yet told me even one secret. He has not known her twenty-four hours, and already he is confiding in her. I won't stand it. I wonder what they are talking about. Why should I not know? I have a right to know – every right. I am all but engaged to him. All my friends think that I shall marry Gavon. His own mother thinks it – I know she does. And Gavon – oh, he must, he must know what I feel for him! He must return my love! Life would be intolerable without him. If he has a grain of honour, he will engage himself to me, and soon, very soon. It is not right, therefore, that he, an almost engaged man, should tell secrets to another woman. Those secrets belong to me. Oh, how I have loved Mollie! but just now I hate her. Mollie darling, it is true – I hate you! I hate that calm face of yours, and that gentle smile, and those cool, comforting hands. And I hate your manner and the way you talk. I hate your very walk, which is so dignified and so full of confidence. You have all that I never had, and in addition you have got my pretty features, my eyes, my lips, my teeth, the same coloured hair, the same colour in your cheeks. It isn't fair, Mollie darling, it isn't fair. Life is too hard on Kitty if you take from her just the one only man she could ever love. I know what I'll do. I'll dress in a jiffy, and I'll go into the back drawing-room. I know how I can slip in – just by that door that is so seldom opened. I will stay there, and I'll hear everything. They won't look for me; but even if they do it doesn't matter, for there is that in me which – oh dear, am I mad?"

Kitty sprang from the bed. She rushed to her washstand, poured out some hot water, laved her face and hands, and then arranging her hair with one or two quick touches she put on her black net evening dress. She was too excited to think of her usual ornaments. Her little round throat had not even a solitary string of pearls encircling it. Her arms were destitute of bracelets. She opened her door softly, and put out her head to listen. There was not a sound. The thickly carpeted passages and the stairs were empty. The first dressing gong had sounded, and there was yet quite a quarter of an hour before dinner. Catching up her skirts to prevent even the rustle of the silk as she flew downstairs, Kitty reached the drawing-room floor. She opened a door which was seldom opened; it led into the small back drawing-room, a room which in its turn opened into the conservatory. The back drawing-room was seldom lighted, except when Mrs. Keith expected company. It was quite dark now, and Kitty, agile and watchful, flung herself on a sofa in a corner, where she knew she could not be seen. She bent a little forward and listened with all her might.

"I have told you all that I can tell you, and you understand?" said Keith.

These were the first words that fell on her ears. Keith's voice sounded a great way off, and Kitty perceived to her consternation that her sister and Captain Keith were standing at the other end of the long drawing-room. In order not to miss a word, she was obliged to leave her first hiding-place and steal more towards the light. The couple, however, were too absorbed to notice her.