"I can't tell. That's what I want you to help me think out."
Mrs. Ellison was silent for a moment before she said, "Well, then, I suppose we shall have to go back to the very beginning."
"Yes," assented Kitty, faintly.
"You did have a sort of fancy for him the first time you saw him, didn't you?" asked Mrs. Ellison, coaxingly, while forcing herself to be systematic and coherent, by a mental strain of which no idea can be given.
"Yes," said Kitty, yet more faintly, adding, "but I can't tell just what sort of a fancy it was. I suppose I admired him for being handsome and stylish, and for having such exquisite manners."
"Go on," said Mrs. Ellison. "And after you got acquainted with him?"
"Why, you know we've talked that over once already, Fanny."
"Yes, but we oughtn't to skip anything now," replied Mrs. Ellison, in a tone of judicial accuracy which made Kitty smile.
But she quickly became serious again, and said, "Afterwards I couldn't tell whether to like him or not, or whether he wanted me to. I think he acted very strangely for a person in—love. I used to feel so troubled and oppressed when I was with him. He seemed always to be making himself agreeable under protest."
"Perhaps that was just your imagination, Kitty."