ook."

"My dear old Kitty is not very quick nor very beautiful, but she is very
faithful, and so kind," said Kathleen, reaching down and patting her
mare on the nose. "Shall we go on?"

"We need not hurry," replied her companion. "We have beaten them
already. I love the woods here, and, Kathleen, I have not seen you for
ever so long, for nine long months. And since your return fifteen days
ago I have seen you only once, only once."

"I am sorry," said Kathleen, hurrying her horse a little. "We happened
to be out every time you called."

"Other people have seen you," continued the young man with a note almost
of anger in his voice. "Everywhere I hear of you, but I cannot see you.
At church--I go to church to see you--but that, that Englishman is with
you. He walks with you, you go in his motor car, he is in your house
every day."

"What are you talking about, Ernest? Mr. Romayne? Of course. Mother
likes him so much, and we all like him."

"Your mother, ah!" Ernest's tone was full of scorn.

"Yes, my mother--we all like him, and his sister, Mrs. Waring-Gaunt,
you know. They are our nearest neighbours, and we have come to know them
very well. Shall we go on?"

"Kathleen, listen to me," said the young man.

At this point a long call came across the ravine.

"Ah, there they are," cried the girl. "Let's hurry, please do." She
brought her whip down unexpectedly on Kitty's shoulders. The mare,
surprised at such unusual treatment from her mistress, sprang forward,
slipped on the moss-covered sloping rock, plunged, recovered herself,
slipped again, and fell over on her side. At her first slip, the young
man was off his horse, and before the mare finally pitched forward was
at her head, and had caught the girl from the saddle into his arms. For
a moment she lay there white and breathing hard.

"My God, Kathleen!" he cried. "You are hurt? You might have been
killed." His eyes burned like two blazing lights, his voice was husky,
his face white. Suddenly crushing her to him, he kissed her on the cheek
and again on her lips. The girl struggled to get free.

"Oh, let me go, let me go," she cried. "How can you, how can you?"

But his arms were like steel about her, and again and again he continued
to kiss her, until, suddenly relaxing, she lay white and shuddering in
his arms.

"Kathleen," he said, his voice hoarse with passion, "I love you, I love
you. I want you. Gott in Himmel, I want you. Open your eyes, Kathleen,