"Do you know anyone in Waynscott?"
"No. But I can go to a hotel."
"No, you can't. That's nonsense."
"Now you are not being polite." And her lip trembled in a way that warned Lyon she was near the verge of tears. He looked distractedly up and down the street,--for they had been waiting on the corner for the car when this deadlock developed,--and then he had an inspiration.
"Will you let me take you to Miss Wolcott's?"
She looked at him suspiciously. "You needn't think that if you get me so near the school as that, I will change my mind and go in. Because I won't."
"Oh, Kittie, I'm not trying to play any tricks on you! I'd know better than to try! But you must go somewhere, and if you won't go back to Miss Elliott's, I don't know of a better place for you to go than to Miss Wolcott's. She will be glad to see you and to help you, because she is engaged to Arthur Lawrence, and your--your statement to Mr. Howell will set him free, you see, so she will feel under obligations to you on that account. You must have a woman friend to stay with, Kittie. It wouldn't be nice for you to go off anywhere by yourself."
"You needn't tell me that," said Kittie, with quick offense. "I guess I know what is proper. All right, I'll go to Miss Wolcott's if I have to. But she needn't think she can lecture me."
"Mrs. Broughton is staying with Miss Wolcott, I forgot to tell you. You like her, you know."
"Like her!" exclaimed Kittie with a swift clearing of her darkened brow. "Why, I'd go to her if she was on the tip-top of the North Pole. She's the only one in all the world I do like." She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye as she made this sweeping statement.