Nearly a year before, Charles Craige had purchased from one of his clients a cottage in Chevy Chase and had moved his Lares and Penates from his bachelor apartment in the Hadleigh. His English butler, Lambert, and the latter's wife, Mildred, ran his house for him, as they had his apartment. Invitations to his hospitable entertainments were eagerly sought, for he was a born host and nothing gave him more delight than to have his friends about him. Mothers with marriageable daughters and widows never lost hope of catching so worthwhile a _parti_ and Craige had been reported engaged upon numerous occasions. Kitty had always entertained a genuine affection for her godfather, to whose kind offices she had owed many attentions upon her d�but in Washington society. It was he who had introduced her to Mrs. Parsons, and through his suggestion the gay widow had secured Kitty as her social secretary. In what seemed an incredibly short time to Kitty, Ted Rodgers drove his roadster under the _porte-coch�re_ of "Hideaway." Lambert came immediately in answer to Kitty's ring, and his usually solemn manner thawed at the sight of her. "The master will be 'ere in a moment," he explained, helping them off with their wraps. "Just step into the living room, Miss Kitty. I 'ave a fresh fire laid there. Mr. Craige told me you were h'expected." The living room always aroused Ted Rodgers' admiration, for it represented his idea of comfort combined with good taste. Craige had a love of art and an appreciation of the beautiful and ample means to gratify both. In furnishing his house, he had spared no expense. "Aunt Susan was very fond of this room," Kitty said as she wandered about examining the paintings on the walls. "She and Mr. Craige were great cronies. In fact," and Kitty's smile showed each pretty dimple, "he was about the only man she approved of." "So she told me," Rodgers' smile was fleeting. "I wasn't in her good graces--" he stooped to pick up the fire-tongs which Lambert had inadvertently left lying on the floor before the brass fender when hurrying to answer the front door bell. "Your aunt gave me to understand at our last interview that I was _persona non grata_. Had she lived," Rodgers paused and looked at Kitty, "I imagine she would have tried to turn you against me." Kitty blushed. "It wasn't you in particular," she began impulsively. "Aunt Susan was frequently discourteous to my friends. There were none she liked when she found they--they--that is, that they liked me." She laughed to cover her confusion. "They wished to marry you--as I do--" the words caught her unawares. "Kitty, my darling," he pleaded. "Don't turn from me; give me a chance. I've loved you so silently, so deeply--" his voice shook with feeling. "You have grown to be my life--my religion--" "Hush!"