The major might for a time have had strength to keep these resolves, had he not once again seen Mollie and Gavon Keith together. They were talking just at the door of one of the wards, and they did not touch hands this time. But the major saw the light in Mollie's eyes, and could not mistake its import. The moment he observed this there fell away from him, like a mantle, all the good resolves of the last few days. He would do something, and at once.
He passed the couple, who started aside when they saw him, and strode away to the hotel where Kitty lived. He asked boldly to see Miss Hepworth. The servants of the hotel were busy in those days, when every one had his or her special duty to perform. One of them said carelessly,—
"You will find Miss Hepworth in her sitting-room;" and he ran upstairs and knocked at the door.
A girlish voice said, "Come in." He turned the handle and entered.
Kitty was lying on a sofa, in just the position where she could get what little air there was. The heat was intense, and the red dust was more irritating than ever. It lay on the table, and made a pink shade over the cup and saucer out of which she had taken her last meal; it made a pink shade also on the girl's dark hair and on her white blouse; but it did not take any of the prettiness out of her big brown eyes, nor any of the refined delicacy from her beautifully-chiselled features. The strong likeness to her sister Mollie was very apparent at this moment, and Strause uttered an exclamation, which he suddenly checked.
"I never guessed it," he said to himself.
"How do you do, Major Strause?" said the girl. "Do you want anything? I am quite alone."
"I called to see you, Miss Hepworth, because I thought you would be alone," was his reply.
Already his anger against Mollie was more or less abated; but he lashed it up again, for he said to himself,—
"If I don't take extreme steps I shall lose her. I have a great deal to tell this little miss, and tell it I will."