"If she isn't in time I won't be able to send the letter to-night and then—Alice, do you mind my interrupting you for a moment? What time does the last post go?"
"The pillar outside the gate is cleared at twelve," said Alice.
"It is only nine now. You don't happen to be able to tell me when a letter, cleared at twelve, would reach Castle Malone?"
"I cannot tell you. Forgive me, Kitty, I cannot stay in the room any longer. I am going to our bedroom."
Alice gathered up her books, and swept out of tho room. When she reached the bedroom she shut and locked the door.
Kitty was now left alone in the drawing-room, for Mr. and Mrs. Denvers were spending the evening out. She was glad of this, as she could lean as far out of the window as she dared, and there was no one to shout at her. She could also pace up and down the room, which she presently did with the rapidity and eagerness of a young tigress.
Oh, to be back again at Castle Malone! What was Laurie doing now?
Suppose Paddy Wheel-about really told her father about Laurie!
Squire Malone was extremely kind to Kitty; there was no saying what he would not do for Kitty were she in trouble; but Laurie and Pat were different matters. He had fits of severity-with them—only fits, mind you; for he was too Irish in his character, too generous-hearted, ever to keep his anger long; but in these fits he often made strange resolves, and when these resolves were made, as a rule, he carried them out. He was too proud to change his mind. If once he decided that the boys were to go to school to England, to school they must go—to "prison," Kitty termed it. Tears rose in her bright eyes, they rolled down her cheeks. Oh, why was not Elma in time? How dreadful, how dreadful if she (Kitty) missed the twelve-o'clock post! She was in this state of fret and worry, when Fred entered the room. Fred hated all girls, with the exception of Kitty Malone. He could not be said by this time to hate her, for he admired her very much indeed. The moment she saw him she called out to him to come in.
"Ah, then, Fred, it is you. Come along in," she cried; "you'll be a drain of a comfort—not much, but still a drain. Oh, Fred, it's I who am in the trouble entirely. You wouldn't think it to look at me, but I am."
"Dear me, Kitty I am sorry," said Fred. "What's up? Has Alice been teasing you as usual?"