"Your story first--why, of course, Kit." "They are there; speak to them; tell them you will see them afterward. We are staying at the Sign of the Red Doe; tell them that you will see me first and then you will see them." "Introduce me to them, Kitty, and calm yourself. Come, Kitty, come." "Yes, father, yes; it is all right." Kitty's terrible excitement subsided; leaning on her father's arm, she approached the platform where Miss Sherrard and Miss Worrick, both looking rather confused, were standing. "This is my father, Miss Sherrard," said Kitty, introducing Dennis Malone, who took off his hat with a grand sweep. "I am relieved to see you," began Miss Sherrard. "Pardon me one moment, madam," said Malone; "but Kitty here would like to tell me her story first. You are her school-mistress, the lady with whom I have had the pleasure of corresponding?" "I am, and I have a very, very painful tale to tell you." "You shall tell me your story afterward." Here the owner of Castle Malone caught sight of Miss Worrick, and gave her a bow even more deferential than he had bestowed upon the head-mistress. "I am sorry to put you off even for a few moments, ladies," he said; "but you see this little girl, she--she must come first. However badly she has behaved, she--she is my only girl, you understand, and I--I must hear her story first. Will you meet us both within an hour at the Sign of the Red Doe? Then everything can be explained." "I wonder if that dreadful girl is to go unpunished in the end," said Miss Worrick to Miss Sherrard, as they both slowly went to the nearest hotel to wait until the time arranged to meet Kitty and her father at the Sign of the Red Doe." "It seems like it," said Miss Sherrard. "But what a splendid old man! Perhaps after all it may be the best thing for Kitty Malone not to punish her, Miss Worrick." "Oh, Miss Sherrard! I cannot approve of your very lax opinions. Surely punishment for such terrible wrong-doing--" "Yes, she behaved badly, but not so badly as Elma, I think we must wait to hear the whole story explained; at present we are more or less in the dark." "And now, Kit, what is it?" said the squire, when he and his daughter were ensconced in the little sitting-room at the Sign of the Red Doe. "Do you mind if I give you one of my real big hugs first?" said Kitty. "To be sure not, alanna--oh, acushla macree! it is like flowers in May to see you again." "There! I am better now," said Kitty, after she had bestowed one of her most violent hugs upon her father. "Let me sit on your knee and I will tell you everything." At the best it was a sad story, a story full of wrong-doing, full of impulse, full of passion; and although Kitty tried hard to make Elma's part of it as light as possible, the squire's eyes blazed and a thundering note came into his voice as he listened. "That's a bad girl, Kitty," he cried; "and you ought to have nothing to do with her."