She was out there again very late, between one and two in the morning, after the ball. Stella had wanted to leave early, and would fain have escaped before her sister. But Katherine balked her in this, without having any particular reason for it. She felt only that when Stella went away she must go too, and that though she had seemed so indifferent there was now a great deal of excitement in Stella’s gaiety, which was so unrestrained. They went off accordingly, leaving a crowd of disappointed partners shouting complaints and good-nights after them. When they entered the drive, where a sleepy woman came forth from the lodge to let them in, Katherine noticed a dark figure which stole in with the carriage. “Who is that?” she said. “Oh, Katie, Katie dear, don’t say anything!” cried Stella, putting a hand upon her mouth. “It is Charlie come to say good-bye. I must say one little word to him before he goes; do you think that I am made of stone?” “Oh, no, no!” cried Katherine. “I have been wondering--I thought you had got over--I didn’t know what to think.” “I shall never get over it,” said Stella, vehemently. She was crying with her head against her sister’s shoulder. “Oh, Kate, don’t be hard upon me, or say anything! I must--I must have one little half hour with Charlie before he goes away.” “Indeed--indeed, I shall not say anything! I do feel for you, Stella. I am sorry for him. But, oh, don’t stay long, dear, it will only prolong the trouble. And it is so late, and people might say----” “How could people say if they didn’t know? And, Katie,” cried her sister, “if you stay here to watch over us, while I bid him--I mean talk to him yonder--what could anyone say? Won’t it be enough to quench every evil tongue if you are there?” “I suppose it will,” said Katherine dubiously.