"I hope we shall meet again."
His eyes, his words, his thrilling hand-clasp, haunted the motherless girl that night in the mystical land of dreams.
She arose early, after a rather restless night, and her first thought was that she had no morning-dress.
"I am taller than Helen, so I can not wear one of hers; neither can I wear the low-necked costume I wore to the theater last night," she murmured, in perplexity.
Her musings were cut short by a tap at the door. Susette, her maid, entered with a large bundle.
"Good-morning, Miss Kathleen. I've brought your walking-dress for you to come home," she said, undoing the paper and displaying a black silk costume.
"Oh! how good of you, Susette! I was just thinking I would have to ask Mrs. Fox to send around for it."
"Mrs. Carew sent me," said Susette, pursing her lips.
"So she has returned?" asked Kathleen, resting her charming head on her elbow and looking down at the maid, who had seated herself on an ottoman close to the bed.
"She came home near midnight last night, Miss Kathleen."