“So she told me,” Rodgers’ smile was fleeting. “I wasn’t in her good graces—” he stooped to pick up the fire-tongs which Lambert had inadvertently left lying on the floor before the brass fender when hurrying to answer the front door bell. “Your aunt gave me to understand at our last interview that I was persona non grata. Had she lived,” Rodgers paused and looked at Kitty, “I imagine she would have tried to turn you against me.”
Kitty blushed. “It wasn’t you in particular,” she began impulsively. “Aunt Susan was frequently discourteous to my friends. There were none she liked when she found they—they—that is, that they liked me.” She laughed to cover her confusion.
“They wished to marry you—as I do—” the words caught her unawares. “Kitty, my darling,” he pleaded. “Don’t turn from me; give me a chance. I’ve loved you so silently, so deeply—” his voice shook with feeling. “You have grown to be my life—my religion—”
“Hush!”
“No; you must hear me, Kitty.” He was pale with the intensity of his emotion. “I thought that I could be content just to see you—to be with you; but it has gone beyond that. I must know if there is a chance for me. Is there, my dearest? I know that I am unworthy—”
Kitty’s heart was beating to suffocation as she turned bravely and faced him. She had flirted many a time before and had turned aside a proposal with light-hearted banter, but her coquetry had deserted her utterly.
“Ted!” she whispered.
“Kitty!” In an instant his arms were about her. “Kitty!” His voice deepened. “My best beloved—” and as she raised her head to look into his eyes their lips met in the first kiss of love.
Forgetful of all else save each other, the lovers were brought back to the everyday world and their surroundings by a determined cough. Looking hastily around, Kitty spied Charles Craige regarding them from the doorway.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said dryly; then as Kitty ran to him, her eyes like twin stars and the rich color mantling her cheeks, his manner altered and his tone grew tender. “Dear child, in so far as I may, I give you a father’s blessing. Rodgers, you are to be congratulated,” and his hearty handshake emphasized his words. His eyes strayed to a large portrait photograph of Mrs. Amos Parsons which was the chief ornament on the mantel-piece. “I can understand and appreciate your happiness,” he added. “I hope some day soon to tell you I have won the dearest woman in the world—”