ere, he hardly knew the
Grosville girls apart, and had never yet grasped any reason why he
should.

"At any rate, I see clearly," said Lady Grosville, after another pause,
"that you're very sorry for Kitty. Of course, it's very nice of you, and
I find it's what most people feel."

"Hang it! dear Lady Grosville, why shouldn't they?" said Ashe, turning
round on his chair. "If ever there was a forlorn little person on earth,
I thought Lady Kitty was that person at lunch to-day."

"And after that absurd exhibition last night!" said Lady Grosville, with
a shrug. "You never know where to have her. You think she looked ill?"

"I am sure she has got a splitting headache," said Ashe, boldly. "And
why you and Grosville shouldn't be as sorry for her as for Lady Alice I
can't imagine. <i>She's</i> done nothing."

"No, that's true," said Lady Grosville, as she rose. Then she added:
"I'll go and see if she has a headache. You must consult with us,
William; you know the mother so well."

"Oh, I'm no good!" said Ashe, with energy. "But I'm sure that kindness
would pay with Lady Kitty."

He smiled at her, wishing to Heaven she would go.

Lady Grosville stared.

"I hope we are always kind to her," she said, with a touch of
haughtiness. And then the library door closed behind her.

* * * * *

"Kindness" was indeed, that afternoon, the order of the day, as from the
Grosvilles to Lady Kitty. Ashe wondered how she liked it. The girls
followed her about with shawls. Lady Grosville installed her on a sofa
in the back drawing-room. A bottle of sal-volatile appeared, and
Caroline Grosville, instead of going twice to Sunday-school, devoted
herself to fanning Kitty, though the weather--which was sunny, with a
sharp east wind--suggested, to Ashe's thinking, fires rather than fans.

He was himself carried off for the customary Sunday walk, Mr. Kershaw
being now determined to claim the sacred rights of the press. The
walkers left the house by a garden door, to reach which they had to pass
through the farther drawing-room. Kitty, a picturesque figure on the
sofa, nodded farewell to Ashe, and then, unseen by Caroline Grosville,
who sat behind her, shot him a last look which drove him to a
precipitate exit lest the inward laugh should out.

The walk through the flat Cambridgeshire country was long and strenuous.
Though for at least half of it the active journalist who was Ashe's
companion conceived the poor