“Oh!”
“You’re not annoyed, Hilda?”, he asked rather anxiously.
“Of course not!” she smiled. “And I ought not to be surprised at this time of day at anything John does. I suppose he wanted your impression of Kitty?”
“I think he wanted to be made absolutely certain that she is the daughter of Hugh Carstairs. I was not to make any other inquiries of her. But, as you know, there isn’t much profit in asking John his reasons.”
“I do know—and we’ll leave it at that. And I’ll not ask you what you think of Kitty—yet. Come soon again and make her better acquaintance. She is very sweet, and she will be bright, too, once she gets a chance. . . . Working as hard as ever, I suppose?” she said, as he took her hand for a moment.
He smiled a little sadly. “Will you allow me to take you and Miss Carstairs to the theatre one night soon?” he said.
“Thank you; that will be a treat for us both, Anthony.”
“I’d like to introduce a friend of mine who has just turned up in London—Colin Hayward. Your brother—”
“Why, John mentioned him yesterday!”
“Then may I bring him?”