dared not speak a lie before Dr Norman, but said "Yes," looking frankly at him as she spoke. He checked Prissy's inquisitiveness in a way that made Kitty part pleased, part puzzled. Did he guess her secret? Did he feel angry with her for having a secret? She could not tell.

CHAPTER XI.

KITTY'S DREAMS.

PERRY'S letter disturbed Kitty's peace for many days. She wrote off to him the very afternoon she received it, and reproached him for his want of faith in her. When she had been sufficiently caustic on this head, she took a soft, womanly, cajoling tone, called him her dear, dearest Perry, her best friend in the world, her consolation through all the troubles of the day; and when she had, as she thought, given expression to the true state of her heart, she let her brains have full play, and reasoned with him as she had done of old. Why was he, why were all men so hard upon women, expecting fine feelings. and unlimited sacrifices instead of a deliberate line of conduct -reasoned out as men reasoned out their own conduct where important affairs were concerned? Why was it looked upon. as selfish and heartless of a woman to be politic, when a man was considered a fool if he were not? You will say, she said, that it is merely a question of affection between you and me, but it is more than that. I care for you more than for anybody in the whole world, and shall marry you, or not at all. It is not worth while to say more about the matter. Meantime, am I wrong in doing all that I can to improve my position? If I marry you, it is better that your wife should bring a respectable connection, though she can bring you no money. If I never marry you, who will find me home and shelter, and all that a woman wants? Dear Perry, is there nothing I can say that will convince you it is more wise than worldly of me to reason and act thus, and more foolish than unkind of you to

blame me for so doing? Kitty had profited by Laura's masters during the last few weeks, and could write a much more telling letter now. It is quite wonderful what brains will do for a woman. Kitty had picked up an education of some sort in Bohemia; could play waltzes, strum the guitar, and dance to perfection, make bonnets like a milliner, knew a little smattering of French and German, and how to make the utmost of dull people. She improved upon these accomplishments now, practised on the old grand piano when Dr Norman was out and the children at play, worked at French grammar, and sang duets with Laura, hired a guitar, and throwing the pink ribbon across her shoulders, delighted the quiet people who came to tea with sparkling little tunes.

Kitty, you see, worked very hard; and if she sometimes shut herself up in her room and cried from utter weariness, who can wonder? Nothing is a greater strain upon the nervous system than persistent self-denial, and Kitty denied herself from morning till night. She denied herself in little things and in great, for the sake of winning people's affections, and obtaining from them all the good things the Fates had denied her. Do you suppose there were not other occupations she preferred to that of dressing Prissy's dolls, or playing at everlasting cat's cradle with Wattie? Do you suppose she liked counting up laundress's bills, and seeing that Wattie did his sums, to the pleasant sound of a scratching slate-pencil and dry sponge wiping out wrong figures? Often and often she sighed for the delicious indolence of the old life, the sleepy Sunday afternoons, the little fêtes got up at a moment's notice, and so wonderfully sumptuous, at nobody's apparent expense; the sherry-cobbler for which nobody ever seemed responsible, the free and easy intercourse, the utter exemption from grave thoughts or care-all these things Kitty dreamed of and sighed for in her solitude. But she had put her hand to the plough, and was determined not to look back. She considered life as a game of cards, and said to herself that she would make the best of her hand.

Once or twice Dr Norman noticed her pale looks kindly,

ordered up some of his old Madeira for her, watched her, absent as he was, to see whether she ate or drank, pressed her to let Laura drive her out every day, and, in other ways, took the same sort of care that her father might have done. Kitty would sometimes review all these little acts of consideration, one by one; but she could never come to the conclusion that they were more than acts of consideration. She thought of her admirers in the old days; their name was Legion, and hardly a day passed but from one or the other had come a flower, a box of bonbons, or a compliment. All that was over now, and, for compensation, she had the circumspect thanks of a grave widower for services rendered to his children. There was a little gaiety for poor Kitty, nevertheless. Mrs Wingfield, the neighbour of whom across the hedge Perry heard some talk, was continually giving parties, and inviting the whole Norman family. Dr Norman, it will be remembered, had expressed a dislike to this lady, and it needed Kitty's most skilful handling to carry her point, and at the same time to appear indifferent about it. The matter had unfortunately been brought up again before the answer was sent off.

"Do you really care much about going, Laura?" Dr Norman asked; whereupon Laura looked at Kitty, and, seeing her answer in Kitty's eyes, said, "Yes."

"And do you care about it, Miss Silver?"

"If Laura likes it, of course," artfully answered Kitty; and Dr Norman said no more.

The party was a superb one. Mrs Wingfield was the widow of a rich cotton-planter of Ceylon. She was one of those softlooking, round-eyed, low-voiced things who pass off for having little or no character, whilst in reality they bend every will to their own; and who equally pass off for having no passion, whilst Cleopatra was not more fiery in love or hate than they can be.

Mrs Wingfield wanted some one or something to be fiery about. She loved her dogs, and they adored her. But the affection of dogs is an equable thing, not nearly so subject to caprice nor so apt to run into excitement as friendship. She

had not loved her husband much, and she was not the sort of woman to make friends of men-only the nobler kind do that —and she did not care for the homage of fools. So she had lived very much alone hitherto, and, finding Kitty on the alert to be sympathetic, seized upon her as a jewel, determining to buy the jewel at any price. It was a case of elective affinity. The one had all sorts of gifts that the other wanted-wealth, and the captivating emanations of wealth, such as rich dress, servants, equipage, &c. The other had spirit, beauty (for a falser theory than that mere beauty makes a woman enemies among her own sex never was started), and every quality of character most valuable to society. So after a little preliminary friendliness, Mrs Wingfield said, imploringly, "Miss Silver, having dilly-dilly-dilly'd all the ducks to drink, how can I make them swim about and enjoy themselves?”

“Have you croquet?"

"Oh yes! croquet, and bowls, and all that sort of thing; but the difficulty is to make a set of stupid people look as if they liked doing anything."

"Shall I see what I can do?"

"If you would."

Kitty was off in a twinkling, and managed the set of stupid people beautifully. Soon the lawn resounded with the echo of croquet balls and animated voices, and everybody seemed amused. A trio of somewhat stiff old ladies Kitty was herself amusing. Mrs Wingfield looked on, in her supremely indolent way, and thought Kitty an angel. She could do nothing herself; she loved people who did things for her.

Before the afternoon was over, a brisk little intimacy had sprung up between Mrs Wingfield and her visitor. Kitty was by far the most dignified about it, but jumped to friendly conclusions quite as fast.

"You will come up and see me often, won't you?" asked Mrs Wingfield, in quite an affectionate manner; and Kitty, of course, said "Yes." It was a great comfort to her that Mrs Wingfield, being rich and of a certain accepted position, did not in the least disturb herself about her own. It sufficed for

Mrs Wingfield that Kitty was clever, and willing to use her cleverness on other people's behalf.

"Isn't it a little dull for you at Shelley House?" continued Mrs Wingfield, sotto voce; "Dr Norman is such a strange, unsociable sort of animal, I can't imagine how you can stay."

Kitty, knowing Mrs Wingfield to be rich and independent, thought it more expedient to be frank with her. She broke into a little self-pitying laugh, and replied, "A penniless lass. with a long pedigree, dear Mrs Wingfield, is not overwhelmed with invitations to wealthy houses. Better be a guest of Dr Norman's than a governess elsewhere."

"Go out with me to India. I would marry you to ten thousand a year."

"Very well," said Kitty, affecting to treat the matter seriously. "When do you want me to be ready?"

"Perhaps in a week. I hate England the more I see of it, and one gets starved without good curry and chutney. Then, the servants here are so impertinent. Give me a dozen black boys, and I should be quite independent of all your fashionable cooks and ladies'-maids. Have you seen my black man, Tomtom?-he's such a darling!"

Mrs Wingfield went on vaguely, Kitty putting in a polite "Yes" now and then; whilst her mind had shot as far ahead of the other's talk as a child's kite soars from the tiny hand. holding it. If other things failed, why should she mind going to India? It was not for her to pick and choose her way in the world, she must just follow the first hand that beckoned. She took great care, therefore, to please Mrs Wingfield in small, almost infinitesimal ways; for Kitty was on principle a moral homœopath, dosing her patients sparsely and according to the fibre of constitution. Mrs Wingfield was not one of those persons who digest the coarser kinds of flattery; but there are other and subtler ways of worshipping people than by the lips. Kitty knew better than any one how to make a little action mean a good deal. She could fetch Mrs Wingfield's shawl unbidden, and put it round her shoulders in a way that made everybody feel that the hostess was a queen. She could