"Katrine! my one thought since I opened my eyes this morning. Welcome! a hundred thousand welcomes!" Kitty gave Wilson her hand readily enough, but she did not altogether like his looks. His eyes were bloodshot, his speech thick; he seemed to waver a little as he spoke. "How do you do, Wilson? How is your mother, and Melissa?" "Less well than I, for they have not seen you, Katrine! You are more beautiful than ever," murmured Mr. Wibird. He cast on Kitty what he would have called a burning glance. To Kitty it looked rather like a leer, but she must not be unkind. But there was no earthly reason why Wilson Wibird should hold her hand, so she removed it firmly. "I am going to see Judge Peters," she said: her tone was cheerfully matter-of-fact. "Give my love at home, and say I'll run in soon to see your mother." "My way is yours!" Mr. Wibird announced, and fell into step, to Kitty's great annoyance. Wilson Wibird had been the butt of her childhood and Tom's; what on earth did he mean by assuming this tone? They were just outside the Mallow House; at this moment the door opened, and Mr. Very Jordano came out. He had been taking his leisurely breakfast and reading his New York paper, sitting in the office with Marshall Mallow; and seeing the meeting between the two young people had exchanged a word with his host and crony, and hastened out. "Good morning, Miss Kitty!" he said urbanely. "The sight of you is a refreshment indeed. Good morning, Wilson. Mr. Mallow would like to see you a moment, if you have a moment to spare-pare-pare!" Mr. Jordano's tone was faintly ironical, as he fell into step with Kitty on the other side. Wilson Wibird glared at him. "I have not!" he said sullenly. "I am escorting Miss Ross." "That shall be my privilege!" Mr. Jordano bowed blandly to Kitty. "Go away, Wilson!" he added in a lower and different tone. "Go quite away-tay-tay! Or I'll call Billy!" Involuntarily, Kitty quickened her pace, Mr. Jordano beside her. The other stood glowering, irresolute: suddenly the hotel door opened again, revealing Mr. Mallow, massive and rosy. "You come here, Wilson!" he commanded. "Don't stand dilatorin' there! Come on in, you hear me?" Mr. Mallow was Wilson Wibird's uncle; Mrs. Wibird had been a Mallow: moreover, such work as Wilson did was done for him. The young man, after kicking the curbstone sullenly for a moment, obeyed the summons and turned into the hotel. Kitty turned to Mr. Jordano with a breath of relief. "Quite so!" returned that gentleman. "He meant no harm: Wilson meant no harm, but nimporto! Miss Kitty, I welcome this opportunity for a word with you. You have been much in my thoughts, both during your absence and since your return. Miss Kitty, I feel assured that you have much of the deepest interest to impart-tart-tart. You will allow me the privilege of calling on you, I trust, some evening in the near future?" "Oh, surely, Mr. Jordano! I shall be very glad indeed to see you."