"But I am glad beyond measure," he went on. "There is, perhaps, only one thing could make me happier." He stooped and touched Lady Kitty's soft cheek with his lips. "You can tell Jack, Kitty," he said. "We are like sister and brother, aren't we?" "I am very fond of you, Anthony. Next to your mother--excluding Jack, of course--I think I'm as fond of you as anyone." "I'm glad you're fond of my mother, Kitty. She doesn't care for many people." "I've been trying to get up courage to tell her, Anthony. I hate to keep her in the dark." "It will be a blow to her, Kitty." They both laughed and blushed a little consciously. "Yes, I'm afraid it will." "But Pamela, Kitty--tell me about Pamela. Did she ever talk about me?" "I can't say that she did, Anthony." "I suppose she wouldn't," said the lover, a little disappointed, nevertheless. "You're fond of her, Anthony?" said Lady Kitty, looking up at him with eyes of alarm. "Really fond of her?" "I love her and she loves me. As soon as I have established Uncle Wilton comfortably with Knowles to look after him, I shall go to claim her." "She _knows_ you love her, Anthony?" "Oh, yes, she knows." The young fellow laughed happily, and there was no shadow of doubt or of apprehension in his eyes. He had begun to walk up and down the room now, impatiently, as if he wanted to be off. "Why didn't you claim her before you went off to nurse your uncle, Anthony? Uncertainty of that kind is hard on a girl." "I did write. Not, indeed, to her, but to her father, and gave him a broad hint of the state of the case. I have often wondered he never sent me a word: he was such a good sort." "He has been very ill, Anthony." "Ill? My mother never told me." "He was at death's door, but is out of danger; he must be getting strong again by this time." "My poor little Pam--and all of them! They adore their father, and they had no one to help or comfort them!" "Why didn't you write to Pamela herself?" "My mother asked me not to till I came back. But now all that is over. I am going to her at once." "You say you wrote to her father, Anthony? Do you know I have a kind of idea she said you had not written?" "I wrote, Kitty, all right, and put it in the letter-box in the hall the night before I left. You must have mistaken what she said. Of course, her father's illness explains his not having written. And now there is no use in writing. I can be there almost as soon as a letter." Lady Kitty's face was troubled as she looked at him. "You're quite sure you posted the letter, Anthony? Perhaps they didn't get it. Letters sometimes go wrong, don't they?" "Not one out of a million. What are you thinking of, Kitty?" Lady Kitty jumped up out of her chair and went to him. "My poor old Anthony," she said, "there's something horribly wrong. I wish I hadn't to tell you. Pamela's engaged to a Lord Glengall." [Illustration: "My poor old Anthony, there's something horribly wrong."]