"This leaping at conclusions is too feminine a weakness for you to indulge in, Kath," was the rejoinder as the visitor slid out of a silk-lined overcoat; but he rested his gaze upon his sister's dark hair rather than the eyes beneath. "I like your hospitality," he added. "I hope it isn't presumption for me to remove my coat. Try to control your joy when your brother comes up from New York to see you."
"Of course I should always be glad to see you if—if you'd let me," was the reply.
"What's to prevent?" inquired the visitor cheerfully.
"My diary," was the laconic response.
"Oh, you make me tired," said Edgar, taking out a cigarette-case. "May I?"
"No," returned Kathleen, speaking with her characteristic deliberation.
"You may have one, too"; he offered his case, still standing, since she did not sit. He smiled as he said it; the evenness of his teeth and the glee of his smile had melted much ice before now.
"No, thanks," she answered coldly.
He gave an exclamation.