Just then other people entered the drawing-room, and the two girls immediately separated.
Sir John, having taken his cue from Kitty, treated Miss Keys as a stranger. She was very daring and determined, and she looked better than she had ever looked in her life before. Her eyes were shining and her clear complexion grew white and almost dazzling. No circumstance could ever provoke colour into her cheeks, but she always looked her very best at night, and no dress became her like black lace, so dazzlingly fair were her neck and arms, so brilliant her plentiful hair.
Sir John and Colonel Sharston looked at her more than once—Sir John with that knowledge in his eyes which Bertha knew quite well he possessed, and Colonel Sharston with undisguised admiration.
In the course of the evening the Colonel beckoned Kitty to his side.
"I like the appearance of that girl," he said; "but she has a strange face: she must have a history. Why are we not to mention to Mrs. Aylmer that you already knew her, Kitty?"
"I will tell you another time, father," answered Kitty. Then she added, in a low voice: "Oh, I am sorry for her, very sorry. It might ruin her, father, if it were known; you would not ruin her, would you?"
"Of course not, my dear child, and I will certainly respect your wish."
The next day, after breakfast, Kitty found herself alone with Bertha. Bertha was feeding some pigeons in a dove-cote not far from the house. Kitty ran up to her and touched her on the arm.
"I have made up my mind," said Kitty.
"Yes?" answered Bertha.