"Nothing has happened since. I don't understand it, but it's as though he'd been asleep for a long time and was awake again."
Mrs. Tynan gravely regarded her daughter, and a look of fear came into her face. "I knew you kept thinking of him always," she said; "but you had such sense, and he never showed any feeling for you; and young girls get over things. Besides, you always showed you knew he wasn't a possibility. But since he told us that day about his being married and all, has—has he been different towards you?"
"Not a thing, not a word," was the reply; "but—but there's a difference with him in a way. I feel it when I go in the room where he is."
"You've got to stop thinking of him," insisted the elder woman querulously. "You've got to stop it at once. It's no good. It's bad for you. You've too much sense to go on caring for a man that—"
"I'm going to get married," said Kitty firmly. "I've made up my mind. If you have to think about one person, you should stop thinking about another; anyhow, you've got to make yourself stop. So I'm going to marry—and stop."
"Who are you going to marry, Kitty? You don't mean to say it's John
Sibley !"
"P'r'aps. He keeps coming."
"That gambling and racing fellow!"
"He owns a big farm, and it pays, and he has got an interest in a mine, and—"
"I tell you, you shan't," peevishly interjected Mrs. Tynan. "You shan't.
He's vicious. He's—oh, you shan't! I'd rather—"