“Even your aunt is not a better social sponsor than Miss Berkley,” said Richard Latham, bowing to little Anne. “The important thing is that you have come. I’ve an idea! We are going for a long, and, I hope, delightful drive into the country after lunch, which will be at two; Miss Dallas and I were going to take my man Stetson, because a blind man may easily need the help of a strong arm in exploring. I’m sure I can persuade little Anne to go. She’s fond of her namesake, Miss Dallas. What about it, Anne? Will you go if I telephone to your mother and get her consent?” Little Anne clasped her hands upon her thin little chest. “I think it would be so deliciously wonderful-joyful that I’d never, never forget it if Mother would say yes!” she cried, passionately. “Bad as that, superlative little Anne?” laughed Richard. “Mr. Carrington, if you will lunch with me and go on the drive, and would be so kind as to give me a hand over a stile, or whatever lay in my path, I’ll gladly drop Stetson out of the party. Will you do this?” “You are awfully kind, Mr. Latham,” said Kit, gratefully. He glanced at Anne Dallas, but she did not meet his eyes. She was looking intently at Richard Latham, and it seemed to Kit that her expression was unhappy. “I’m only too glad to go, thank you,” Kit went on. “I wonder if I may use your telephone? Aunt Anne will be expecting me to lunch. She won’t have a telephone in the house, but I can call the druggist and get him to send his boy around with a message. Aunt Anne has ways all her own!” “I can imagine it. My telephone is in the hall; Miss Dallas will show you where. And will you call Mrs. Berkley, Miss Dallas, and get her consent to kidnapping her child?” Mr. Latham smiled at little Anne. Little Anne clasped her hands in her own dramatic gesture. “Oh, dear, dear, dearest Miss Dallas, please let me call Mother myself! I don’t get many chances to telephone, and I love, just _love_ to do it! And I want to tell mother my own self what a great, great thing has happened to me. You said a carriage, didn’t you, Mr. Latham? It’s pretty nearly always a car. I’m not quite, perfec’ly certain I ever’ve rode--roden--I mean ridden in a carriage. I’ve rode--ridden--in the grocer’s wagon, but I can’t remember a carriage. I’d love to tell mother. And with a real poet! Would you mind, Miss Anne Dallas, if I did it myself?” “Bless your funny little heart, Anne, of course I shouldn’t mind!” cried Anne Dallas. “Come, both guests!” Richard Latham, left behind, stood quietly waiting, unconsciously listening to the telephone jingle, to Kit’s strong voice, to little Anne’s excited piping. Suddenly and unreasonably he felt old and alone. He was not old, but he was alone, and around him in the beautiful room that he had made, with its spacious calm, its books, its pictures, was complete darkness. CHAPTER IV _Anne and Anne_ Minerva came cat-footed up the stairs and knocked at Miss Carrington’s sitting-room door.