"Oh, well," he replied desperately: "you see, when I met you at the Thomsons' the other night, and asked you if I might have the honour of calling on you, you said that your father was a very busy man and that you yourself had no time for receiving visitors."
"Well?" demanded Kitty, as icily as before.
"Well," he resumed, looking down and then up at her, as if he could not keep his eyes from her face, stern and almost ferocious as it was, "well, I asked the Thomsons who your father was, and when they told me, I thought—I thought——Well, don't you know, it seemed to me that he might want a model. War pictures are all the go now, aren't they? And so——" He broke down, made a little gesture with his unwounded arm, and blurted out, "Of course you know why I've come. I wanted to see you again. I told you so the other night; like my cheek, of course, but—I don't know how it is—I feel as if I'd got to see you, to know you. Look here, Miss Kitty—I beg your pardon, all the Thomsons call you that—I hope you won't mind my saying that I've fallen in love with you?"
"Excuse me; I mind it very much," Kitty informed him with distressing promptitude; but her eyes wavered and the colour came into her face and made it, in the unfortunate young man's opinion, more maddeningly fascinating than ever.
"Oh, well, I'm sorry," he said, but without much penitence in his tone; "but the truth should always be told, shouldn't it? And it is the truth."
"Is it?" queried Kitty. "You've seen me only once before, and then only for an hour or two."
"Two hours and three-quarters," he said, as if he were a stickler for accuracy; "and I fell in love with you after the first quarter of an hour. That being the case—as it certainly is—what was I to do? I shall have to go back to the regiment as soon as this old arm of mine is right; and it's getting right quickly; and I felt that I couldn't go without at any rate telling you what—what was the matter with me."
"You speak as if—as if love were a disease," said Kitty, with an attempt at mockery which was an abject failure.
"So it is," he declared, "and I've got it bad—very bad indeed. I'll ask you to believe me, Miss Kitty—I mean Miss Thorold—that I haven't had you out of my mind for one moment since we parted."