“Kitty”—­he tried to shake himself into full consciousness—­“do go to bed!”

“Lie down,” said Kitty, lifting her arm and pressing him down, “and don’t say anything.  I shall go to sleep.”

He lay down obediently.  Presently he felt that her cheek was resting on one of his hands, and in his semi-consciousness he laid the other on her hair.  Then they both fell asleep.

His dreams were a medley of the fancy ball and of some pageant scene in which Iris and Ceres appeared, and there was a rustic dance of maidens and shepherds.  Then a murmur as of thunder ran through the scene, followed by darkness.  He half woke, in a hot distress, but the soft cheek was still there, his hand still felt the silky curls, and sleep recaptured him.

XII

When Ashe woke up in earnest he was alone.  He sprang up in bed and looked round the darkened room, ashamed of his long sleep; but there was no sign of Kitty.

After dressing, he knocked, as usual, at Kitty’s door.

“Oh, come in,” cried Kitty’s lightest voice.  “Margaret’s here; but if you don’t mind her, she won’t mind you.”

Ashe entered.  Kitty, as was her wont four days out of the seven, was breakfasting in bed.  Margaret French was beside her with a batch of notes, mostly bills and unanswered invitations, with which she was trying to make Kitty cope.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ashe,” Margaret lifted a smiling face.  “I had to be out on business for my brother all day, so I thought I’d come early and remind Kitty of some of these tiresome things while there was still a chance of finding her.”

“I don’t know why guardian angels excuse themselves,” said Ashe, as they shook hands.

“Oh, dear, what a lot of them there are!” said Kitty, tossing over the notes with a bored air.  “Refuse them all, Margaret; I’m tired to death of dining out.”

“Not all, I think,” pleaded Margaret.  “Here’s that nice woman—­you remember—­who wanted to thank Mr. Ashe for what he’d done for her son.  You promised to dine with her.”

“Did I?” Kitty wriggled with annoyance.  “Well, then, I suppose we must.  What did William do for her?  When I ask him to do something for the nicest boys in the world, he won’t lift a finger.”

“I gave him some introductions in Berlin,” laughed Ashe.  “What you generally want me to do, Kitty, is to stuff the public service with good-looking idiots.  And there I really can’t oblige you.”

“Every one knows that corruption gets the best men,” said Kitty.  “Hullo, what’s that?” and she lifted a dinner-card, and looked at it strangely.

“My dear Kitty! when did it come?” exclaimed Margaret French, in dismay.

It was a dinner-card, whereby Lord and Lady Parham requested the honor of Mr. and Lady Kitty Ashe’s company at dinner, on a date somewhere within the first week of July.

Ashe bent over to look at it.