"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?"