She looked at him a moment in silence, at his heightened color and insistent eyes.

“I can’t think what made you marry me,” she said, slowly.

Ashe laughed, and came nearer.

“And I can’t think,” he said, in a lower voice, “what made you come—­if you weren’t a little bit sorry—­and lean your dear head against me like that, last night.”

“I wasn’t sorry—­I couldn’t sleep,” was her quick reply, while her eyes strove to keep up their war with his.

A knock was heard at the door.  Ashe moved hastily away.  Kitty’s maid entered.

“I was to tell you, sir, that your breakfast was ready.  And Lady Tranmore’s servant has brought this note.”

Ashe took it and thrust it into his pocket.

“Get my things ready, please,” said Kitty to her maid.  Ashe felt himself dismissed and went.

As soon as he was gone, Kitty sprang out of bed, threw on a dressing-gown, and ran across to Blanche, who was bending over a chest of drawers.  “Why did you say those foolish things to me yesterday?” she demanded, taking the girl impetuously by the arm, and so startling her that she nearly dropped the clothes she held.

“They weren’t foolish, my lady,” said Blanche, sullenly, with averted eyes.

“They were!” cried Kitty.  “Of course, I’m a vixen—­I always was.  But you know, Blanche, I’m not always as bad as I have been lately.  Very soon I shall be quite charming again—­you’ll see!”

“I dare say, my lady.”  Blanche went on sorting and arranging the lingerie she had taken out of the drawer.

Kitty sat down beside her, nursing a bare foot which was crossed over the other.

“You know how I abused you about my hair, Blanche?  Well, Mrs. Alcot said, that very night, she never saw it so well done.  She thought it must be Pierrefitte’s best man.  Wasn’t it hellish of me?  I knew quite well you’d done it beautifully.”

The maid said nothing, but a tear fell on one of Kitty’s night-dresses.

“And you remember the green garibaldi—­last week?  I just loathed it—­because you’d forgotten that little black rosette.”

“No!” said Blanche, looking up; “your ladyship had never ordered it.”

“I did—­I did!  But never mind.  Two of my friends have wanted to copy it, Blanche.  They wouldn’t believe it was done by a maid.  They said it had such style.  One of them would engage you to-morrow if you really want to go—­”

A silence.

“But you won’t go, Blanchie, will you?” said Kitty’s silver voice.  “I’m a horrid fiend, but I did get Mr. Ashe to help your young man—­and I did care about your poor brother—­and—­and—­” she stroked the girl’s arm—­“I do look rather nice when I’m dressed, don’t I?  You wouldn’t like a great gawk to dress, would you?”

“I’m sure I don’t want to leave your ladyship,” said the girl, choking.  “But I can’t have no more—­”

“No more ructions?” said Kitty, meditating.  “H’m, of course that’s serious, because I’m made so.  Well, now, look here, Blanchie, you won’t give me warning again for a fortnight, whatever I do, mind.  And if by then I’m past praying for, you may.  And I’ll import a Russian—­or a Choctaw—­who won’t understand when I call her names.  Is that a bargain, Blanchie?”