"Miss Hepworth!" cried Keith. He coloured, and an uneasy sensation visited him. "Then perhaps I had best not hear it," he said.
"Either you or your mother must hear it, sir; and as you are willing to listen to my confidence, I will give it to you. The fact is, I have been placed in a most awkward position. I asked Miss Hepworth to call on me this morning. She came. She owes me money."
Keith made no remark, but waited for madame to proceed. He did not suppose that Kitty had large private funds at present, and a sum of ten pounds or so owed to a dressmaker did not seem to him a heinous offence.
"Perhaps I can accommodate you with a cheque," he said. After all, the woman's story was scarcely worth taking up his time with.
"It is possible that you can do so, Captain Keith; but the matter I have to speak about means more than a mere cheque. Miss Hepworth has owed me money for a long time, and to-day I asked her for a cheque. She said it was out of her power to give it to me. I asked for a cheque for a large sum. When she refused to accommodate me, I told her that I could not let her have the dress she had ordered for the ball."
Keith did not reply. A vision rose before his eyes of the pretty face of his cousin—her sparkling eyes, her tender mouth. She always dressed well, and she would look, as she herself expressed it, like a vision on this occasion.
"I should not like Miss Hepworth to be disappointed," he said slowly.
"The thing is graver than just a mere disappointment, sir. Miss Hepworth could not accommodate me, and I was firm; she left my house very angry and troubled. She returned within an hour, and said she would pay me then a hundred pounds in cash."
"A hundred pounds!" cried Keith, thoroughly roused at last. "You don't mean to tell me that Miss Hepworth owes you more than that?"
"Considerably more, sir. She said she had it in her power to pay me there and then a hundred pounds; and although I had asked for a hundred and fifty, I promised to be satisfied with what she gave me, and I gave her six weeks' grace for the remainder. I also said she should have the new dress. She took a purse out of her pocket—a Russian leather purse, marked with initials in silver, 'K.H.' She opened it, and took from it a hundred pounds in notes and gold. I gave her a receipt, and she left the house. I was about to put the money into my writing-table drawer until I could take it to the bank, when I observed a piece of paper which had fallen on the floor. I took it up, opened it, and read the address of a lady who is also a customer of mine. The lady's name was Miss Katherine Hunt, and her address, 24 Child's Gardens, Bayswater. I thought this a little strange, and instead of tearing up the paper, put it with the notes and gold in my drawer. In less than an hour Miss Hunt arrived. She was also going to the fancy ball, and she wished for a fancy dress immediately. She is a very rich young lady. Her father is a millionaire. He is the well-known David Hunt, who has made his fortune with the new sort of free wheel.