Kitty would have turned to comfort her, but for the timely entrance of Robert. He brought a letter for Lucia which Kitty welcomed as an agreeable distraction. It was from Horace Jewdwine. "Any news?" she asked presently.
"Yes. What do you think? He's going to Paris to-morrow. Then he's going on to Italy—to Alassio, with Mr. Maddox."
"Horace Jewdwine and Mr. Maddox? What next?"
"It isn't Horace that's going." She gave the letter to Kitty because she had shrunk lately from speaking of Keith Rickman by his name.
"That's a very different tale," said Kitty
"I'm so glad he's going. That was what he always wanted to do. Do you remember how I asked him to be my private secretary? Now I'm his private secretary; which is as it should be."
"You mean I am."
"Yes. Do you think you could hurry up so that he'll get them before he goes? Poor Kitty—I can't bear your having all these things to do for me."
"Why not? You'd do them for me, if it was I, not you."
"I wish it were you. I mean I wish I were doing things for you. But you haven't done them all, Kitty. I did some. I forget how many."