"And yet you would be the very last woman on earth to keep him back," replied Mollie.
"That is true," answered Mrs. Keith. "I would not restrain all that is noble and good in him for the world." She looked around her. "Kitty!" she cried. There was no response. "Where can the child be?" she said suddenly; "she seemed ill at dinner."
"She ought to go to bed if she has a headache," said Mollie. "I will go and speak to her. Ah, I see her in the back drawing-room. She is reading something."
"Then don't disturb her," said Mrs. Keith. "Sit near me, Mollie; I like to talk to you. Ah, here comes Gavon.—Gavon, go and have a chat with poor little Kitty; for some reason or other, she is very much put out."
Keith crossed the room and sat down by Kitty.
"How is the head now—any better?" he asked.
His tone was always sympathetic; at this moment it was dangerously so.
Kitty swallowed her tears and looked full up at him.
"It is not my head," she said.
"I thought not," he replied with a laugh, which, in spite of himself, was uneasy. "Something has ruffled the small temper. Is not that so? What is the matter, my dear little coz?"