Kitty looked at her watch again. She had ample time to walk down to the Allies' Inn for luncheon and she would feel better for the exercise. Already the sunshine and fresh air had braced her up. Her decision made, she waved away a taxi-driver hovering near the curb with a watchful eye on her, and, turning, started down the street. She was conscious of a man passing her at a rapid walk, but with her head slightly bent and her thoughts elsewhere, she did not glance up. The man ran up the three steps leading to Mrs. Parsons' front door, stopped, turned around and looked at her. The next second Kitty heard her name called by a familiar voice. "What luck!" exclaimed Leigh Wallace, as she waited for him to approach. "Where are you going, Kitty?" "To the Allies' Inn for luncheon," she replied. "Mrs. Parsons is out, Leigh; I've just been there." "Oh, ah!" Wallace twirled his swagger stick with such energy that it almost slipped from his grasp. "In that case, Kitty, lunch with me at the Shoreham? Don't say you won't," as she shook her head. "I must talk to you--by yourself. Don't refuse, Kitty, don't." Kitty looked at him steadily. "We can talk as we walk along," she said quietly. "Come." And her decided tone left Wallace nothing to do but match his footstep to hers as she sauntered along. From her sheltered nook in the window Mrs. Parsons saw Major Wallace's rapid approach to her front door, observed his belated recognition of Kitty, heard his hail, and watched their leisurely walk down the street. An odd smile crossed her lips as she dropped the window curtain into place and went quietly to her bedroom. "Francise," she said, as her confidential maid rose on her entrance and laid down some sewing, "tell James that I will lunch alone to-day. Major Wallace is unexpectedly detained and has cancelled his engagement with me." Kitty found Major Wallace a taciturn companion, and her efforts at conversation elicited only absent-minded, monosyllabic replies as they walked slowly down Connecticut Avenue. It was not until they reached H Street that Wallace awoke from his abstraction. "The Shoreham is down this way," he expostulated as Kitty continued walking straight ahead. "You must lunch with me, Kitty, you promised." "I did nothing of the sort," she retorted. "You said that you wished to talk to me and you have had every opportunity to do so. Instead of which you have been silent to the verge of rudeness. Frankly," and her voice was decidedly chilly, "you owe me an explanation--" "That is just it," he broke in. "Why have you avoided me?" "I? Avoided you?" The scorn in Kitty's voice caused him to color warmly. "I have done nothing of the sort." "You sent word that you 'begged to be excused' when I called to see you," Wallace reminded her bitterly. "The words were of Oscar's choosing, not mine," she explained. "You came the night of the inquest, and by Dr. McLean's orders I denied myself to all callers--" "But you saw Ted Rodgers?"