“Oh, thank you, Miss Abercrombie, but Kitca is enough and too much for you to do for me!” cried little Anne, fervently. “May I put in one of your hairpins? It is rather out.” “Miss Abercrombie would rather put it in herself, Anne,” said Kit, hastily. He took the child on his back. “Let me ride you home, or part of the way.” “And avoid contamination,” smiled Helen, interpreting Kit’s unconsidered impulse. At Miss Carrington’s, Helen went into the house, but Kit went all the way to the Berkley house, seeing little Anne home. Helen turned back from the foot of Miss Carrington’s steps. “Kit,” she called after the pair of friends, “I’ve had a lovely time; I’m fond of the drama. And I think you are right, and I was wrong. I wouldn’t change it; I wanted to see, and I saw! Good-bye. Little Anne likes a snowy-white kit, but not I! You’re a nice boy, Kit, but you’re not much of a man.” She ran laughing up the rest of the way and rushed into the house. “She seems mad,” observed sharp little Anne. CHAPTER XVI _Revelation_ “Your daughter has not been rescued this time, Mrs. Berkley; I am merely her favoured cavalier,” explained Kit, delivering little Anne into her mother’s hands. “Thank you, Kit.” Mrs. Berkley spoke with difficulty for little Anne had her around the neck in a hug that implied a long separation. “Mr. Berkley is on the side piazza with Peter, and Antony is here. Joan has taken the baby and left him. Why don’t you join them there?” “I always knew it would come to a separation between Joan and Antony,” said Kit, gratefully accepting a respite from returning home. “And you knew it would be only for the length of a day and night, didn’t you?” Mrs. Berkley looked sharply at Kit’s perturbed face. “Come, Anne; you must be made presentable for dinner. Stay to dinner with us, please, Kit.” “I can’t be made presentable,” he said, glancing at his tramping clothes, and betraying his desire to stay. “That doesn’t matter; we are alone. Anne has obligations. One is that her clothes are here; yours aren’t! Stay, Kit, dear, won’t you?” Mrs. Berkley urged him. “Gratefully,” said Kit, “if you’ll put up with me. I think I may go away to-morrow.” “Yes? For long?” asked Mrs. Berkley. Her eyes and her wits were working fast; Kit looked badly perturbed. “I don’t know, Mrs. Berkley. It all depends; I may not go,” Kit said. “Depends on Helen Abercrombie’s going,” Mrs. Berkley supplemented him in her thoughts. “She appeared well here, but Joan didn’t like her, and I couldn’t help seeing that she meant to marry this boy.” “Then you must surely stay to dinner; tramping clothes are all right when they are not what might be called worn in malice! We like you better than evening garments, Kit. Come, Anne!” she said aloud.