They rang again furiously; but there was no response. The locked door, the dark, forbidding windows seemed to frown on their frantic efforts to arouse the house. Mrs. Fox put her head out of the carriage window and said: "Kathleen, you had better come home with us to-night, my dear. I don't think you will be able to rouse any one there; and you will catch cold waiting in the cool night air." CHAPTER VII. "MRS. CAREW IS GOING TO MAKE YOU MARRY HER SON," SAID THE MAID. I've thought of thee--I've thought of thee, Through change that teaches to forget; Thy face looks up from every sea, In every star thine eyes are set. N. P. WILLIS. Kathleen was annoyed by her failure to get into the house, but she did not attach any particular significance to it. She supposed that Alpine, out of spite, had caused the servants to lock up and go to bed; that was all. She went home willingly enough with her kind friends, intending to return the next morning. And when she laid her beautiful head on the pillow that night, it was to dream of soft brown eyes that had looked thrillingly into hers, and of a warm white hand that had clasped hers, oh! so closely, when he said good-night; for Ralph Chainey, the actor--or Prince Karl, as Kathleen called him in her thoughts--had come into Mrs. Fox's box twice between the acts, and had been presented to the beautiful heiress whose life he had saved last summer, and from whose presence he had gone away _incognito_. Prince Karl had been on his dignity at first. He had remembered what Alpine Belmont had told him that afternoon. He believed that beautiful Kathleen was cold, proud and ungrateful. So, after bowing over her little hand when George Fox presented them, he turned his attention to the vivacious Helen, and scarcely looked at the radiant creature close to her side. Kathleen bit her red lips and remained silent. She understood Ralph Chainey's mood, and knew that she had to thank Alpine for his indifference. Her sweet lips quivered with a repressed sob, and her dark eyes swam in moisture that threatened to fall in blinding tears. It was hard--cruelly hard to have him believe her proud and ungrateful, and to see him resent it in this cavalier fashion. He bowed himself out presently, and then Helen Fox turned to her, eagerly. "How did you like him, Kathleen? Isn't he just splendid?" she exclaimed. Then she saw how grave and quiet the young girl looked, and remembered what Kathleen had told her in the carriage. "Oh! I forgot; he did not really pass one word with you. He was piqued and stiff over what Alpine told him," she cried, and added, consolingly: "Never mind; he'll come round. He admires you very much--I saw that in his eyes--and, of course, he is secretly very much interested in you, having saved your life! It is very romantic, Kathleen, and I shouldn't wonder if it's a match."