"Why should you do anything dreadful, please? Lord Parham is your guest, and my political chief. Is there any woman in England who would not do her best to be civil to him under the circumstances?" "I suppose not," said Kitty, with deliberation. "No, I don't think there can be." "Kitty!" For the first time Ashe was conscious of real exasperation. What was to be done with a temperament and a disposition like this? "Do you never think that you have it in your power to help me or to ruin me?" he said, with vehemence. "Oh yes--often. I mean--to help you--in my own way." Ashe's laugh was a sound of pure annoyance. "But please understand, it would be _infinitely_ better if you would help me, in _my_ way--in the natural, accepted way--the way that everybody understands." "The way Lord Parham recommends?" Kitty looked at him quietly. "Never mind, William. I _am_ trying to help you." Her eyes shone with the strangest glitter. Ashe was conscious of another of those sudden stabs of anxiety about her which he had felt at intervals through the preceding year. His face softened. "Dear, don't let's talk nonsense! Just look at me sometimes at dinner, and say to yourself, 'William asks me--for his sake--to be nice to Lord Parham.'" He again drew her to him, but she repulsed him almost with violence. "Why is he here? Why have we people dining? We ought to be alone--in the dark!" Her face had become a white mask. Her breast rose and fell, as though she fought with sobs. "Kitty--what do you mean?" He recoiled in dismay. "Harry!"--she just breathed the word between her closed lips. "My darling!" cried Ashe, "I saw Dr. Rotherham myself this afternoon. He gave the most satisfactory account, and Margaret told me she had repeated everything to you. The child will soon be himself again." "He is _dying_!" said Kitty, in the same low, remote voice, her gaze still fixed on Ashe. "Kitty! Don't say such things--don't think them!" Ashe had himself grown pale. "At any rate"--he turned on her reproachfully--"tell me _why_ you think them. Confide in me, Kitty. Come and talk to me about the boy. But three-fourths of the time you behave as though there were nothing the matter with him--you won't even see the doctor--and then you say a thing like this!" She was silent a moment; then with a wild gesture of the head and shoulders, as of one shaking off a weight, she moved away--drew on her long gloves--and going to the dressing-table, gave a touch of rouge to her cheeks. "Kitty, why did you say that?" Ashe followed her entreatingly. "I don't know. At least, I couldn't explain. Now, shall we go down?" Ashe drew a long breath. His frail son held the inmost depths of his heart. "You have made the party an abomination to me!" he said, with energy. "Don't believe me, then--believe the doctor," said Kitty, her face changing. "And as for Lord Parham, I'll try, William--I'll try." She passed him--the loveliest of visions--flung him a hand to kiss--and was gone.