She said it because it was better to confine Kitty to her own wrongs than to allow her to approach a number of frightening unknown possibilities that began with black eyes. And apparently she succeeded. Kitty fell back on her own injury, and became a little calmer. "Oh," she said cunningly, "but you'd have to send yours, and Miriam Levey'd have to send hers too--then, don't you see, I should be the only one who didn't, and he'd notice it! I just hope he does notice it. Serve him right. I wasn't as hard up for a fellow as all that--I carried on with a fellow at that breaking-up party. I did--you ask Mr. Mackie.... You _do_ think Jeff never intended to marry me at all, don't you, Louie?" She peered curiously at Louie. Well, better that, Louie thought. "I don't think he meant to for a single moment," she replied. "Oh, the _rotter_. Come on, let's send your present now. We'll show him!..." She was quite eager about it; but Louie kept her in the bedroom a little longer. Kitty began to speak of texts again. Again she wondered why "Come" was written in green and "Unto" in red and "Me" in purple, and why all texts had Oxford frames. "You haven't any, I see," she said, glancing again round the brown-papered walls. "You ought to have 'Remember thy Creator,' you know, Louie; it always reminds you, you see. What's this?" It was one of Billy Izzard's etchings. Kitty examined it with her head a little on one side. "It's very nice, whatever it is," she conceded; "but where's the other one? I always think pictures look better in pairs. But you can get odd ones cheap sometimes; Mr. Mackie had a great sale of Art Engravings one day in one of those Oxford Street places--you can hear his voice right across the street--and _he_ said they were cheap because they weren't pairs, but they'd do splendidly for the middle of anywhere, like over a mantelpiece. And what a nice looking-glass! Really, you're quite comfortable here!" She seemed to have forgotten all about Mr. Jeffries again. She walked round Louie's bedroom, bestowing encomiums and preening herself on her own pound a week. At midday Buck came, but Louie did not join the party; she sent Céleste and Jimmy, and herself stayed with Kitty. She hoped Kitty would not stay long; she wanted to lie down and think--think. Nor did Kitty stay very long; but before she went she returned to the subject of the crochet. She wanted the article--it was a teacloth--sent immediately; she would run out and post it herself, she said; and _then_, when he got presents from Miriam and Louie and none from herself, _that_ would be rather a nasty one for Mr. Jeffries! "Do pack it up. _I'll_ show him I'm not to be trampled on like the dirt under his feet!" she persisted vindictively; and another approach to the subject of black eyes caused Louie to yield hurriedly. She folded the cloth and found a piece of brown paper; Kitty did not notice that she enclosed no message.