"No," she said. "No. I mustn't let you do that."

"Why not? It's nothing, Kitty. It's the least that I can do. And you'd be very lonely."

"I would. I would be miserable—in between."

"Between?"

"When you weren't there."

"Kitty, dear child, I can't be there."

She shrank back, the flush died out of her face and left it white.

"I see. You didn't mean that I was to live with you?"

"Poor child—no."

"I—I didn't understand."