"I do hate his white eyelashes so," said Kitty, slowly.
"What does it matter," cried Ashe, angrily, "whether he were a blue-faced baboon!—for two nights? Just listen to him a little, Kitty—that's all he wants. And—don't be offended!—but hold your own small tongue—just a little!"
Kitty pulled herself away.
"I believe I shall do something dreadful," she said, quietly.
A sternness to which Ashe's good-humored face was almost wholly strange showed itself in his expression.
"Why should you do anything dreadful, please? Lord Parham is your guest, and my political chief. Is there any woman in England who would not do her best to be civil to him under the circumstances?"
"I suppose not," said Kitty, with deliberation. "No, I don't think there can be."
"Kitty!"
For the first time Ashe was conscious of real exasperation. What was to be done with a temperament and a disposition like this?
"Do you never think that you have it in your power to help me or to ruin me?" he said, with vehemence.