"That's what I should like," he said again. "To have lots of money, and a nice house, and you to sit there in a pretty parlour, with pretty dresses, and plenty of servants, and nothing ever to bother you." Easy to see he had never kept house. If he had, he wouldn't have talked in the same breath about "plenty of servants" and "nothing to bother." But I didn't see through his words then. "Well, I may be rich yet one day," he went on. "Who knows? And when I am—you may be sure I'll not forget. Kitty," says he slowly, "supposing some day I was to ask you to cast in your lot with me, when I'm a rich man? Or supposing I didn't wait to be rich?" It was not an easy question to answer. For mind you, he didn't say, "Will you cast in your lot with me?" but only, "Supposing I was to ask you?" That might mean anything or nothing. My heart went pit-a-pat, and I hung my head. His next words were not what I looked for. "Kitty," he said, "you mustn't tell anybody what I said just now. If you do, I shall have to leave by the next train, and never come back. Promise you won't." And I, like a little goose again, frightened at the thought of driving him away, and never waiting to consider what was due to my father and mother, was so in his power that I said, "No, I won't!" The moment the words had passed my lips, I knew they were wrong; yet I did not try to take them back. "That's my own little Kitty!" he said. He spoke in an undertone, but I heard the words; and I felt as if all the world was changed to me. His own little Kitty! Was I to be that? It wasn't till later that I noticed he hadn't asked if I wanted to be anything of the sort. He seemed to take all that for granted, which no man has ever a right to do with any woman. But at the moment I could only be joyful. The next instant Mr. Russell was saying in a careless loud voice— "Yes, I'm going for a stroll, and then I shall call again to see how poor Mary is getting on." The change of voice gave me a sort of stunned feeling. I couldn't think what he meant, and all that had gone before looked unreal. Then I understood, for Rupert was walking along the path straight toward us. "Your mother wants you, Kitty," he says in a short gruff voice, as he came up. He always spoke to me now in that voice; and he didn't so much as cast a look at Mr. Russell. "Indoors?" I asked. "Where else?" Rupert answered. "Well, you might speak civil when you bring a message," I said, foolishly enough, for where was the use of angering him? "Civil!" burst out Rupert, and something in the tone frightened me, it was so sore and fierce. I just said, "I'm going," and ran straight off, my cheeks burning still, and a strange new happiness beating at my heart. Not all happiness, though. It could not be all happiness for a girl to be sought in such a fashion. For it was as if Mr. Russell was afraid or ashamed to speak out.