Joe did not answer the question directly, but the passion in his eyes brought a hot wave of color to her cheeks; the carriage was rapidly traversing an unfrequented street, and he was not to be denied. His arms crept around her, and despite her vehement protests, he rained kisses upon her lips until the fire consuming him communicated itself to her, and she gave back kiss for kiss with an ardor which matched his own. “Joe, you must behave!” she stammered, withdrawing as far from him as the narrow confines of the carriage permitted. “Suppose we are seen? What would your family say?” “They will have to know some time,” he protested. “Beside, we are not likely to meet any of our friends in this part of the town.” “I am not so sure of that,” she glanced uneasily out of the window. “We must be getting back, Joe; tell the driver to go up side streets until he reaches Seventeenth and S Streets.” “Will you marry me?” demanded Joe, ignoring her request. “Will you, my darling?” “I’ll give you my answer----” “Yes?” eagerly, as she paused. “When we reach Seventeenth and S Streets,” and her alluring smile set his pulses racing. Opening the door he gave his directions to the driver, then settled back beside her. “Why do you want to tantalize me?” he asked reproachfully. “It’s good for you,” shrugging her shoulders. “You are spoiled at home. By the way, do you propose telling your family of our engagement--providing I accept you?” archly. “In my own good time,” sulkily. “If they know too soon....” “They’ll send you away from my baleful influence.” A mocking smile lighted her eyes and lips. Joe winced, the remark was too near the truth to be pleasant. “It’s no thanks to your friend, Mrs. Hemmingway, that father doesn’t know now,” he grumbled. “What do you mean?” in startled surprise. “I found a letter from her in father’s mail last Monday,” he pulled out a much soiled envelope. “Your letters used to come under cover of her address, so I recognized her writing, and guessing something devilish was up, hooked it before father came home.” “I see,” said Kathryn slowly. “And what did my amiable landlady say in her letter to your father?” “I don’t know,” handing her the unopened envelope. “I waited to give it to you to read; I would have told you of it sooner, but you would not see me.” “Could not see you,” she corrected gently; then without further words opened and read the letter. A sharp intake of her breath attracted Joe’s attention, and he turned from the window in time to see her tearing the letter into infinitesimal pieces, her face white with fury. “The cat!” she exclaimed. “The vile, treacherous cat! And after I’ve been so good to her. Thank heaven you caught the letter, Joe; it was clever of you, my dearest.” “Luck was with me,” admitted Joe frankly, pleased, however, at the implied compliment. “I never trusted Mrs. Hemmingway; you remember I warned you against her.”