stand it any longer! Every time I
think of Kate hidden away over there where I can't get at her, it drives
me wild. I wouldn't ask you to go if I could go myself and talk it out
with her--but she won't let me near her--I've tried, and tried; and Ben
says she isn't at home, and knows he lies when he says it! You will go,
won't you?"

The smoke from his uncle's pipe was coming freer now--most of it
escaping up the throat of the chimney with a gentle swoop.

"When do you want me to go?" He had already surrendered. When had he
ever held out when a love affair was to be patched up?

"Now, right away."

"No,--I'll go to-night,--she will be at home then," he said at last,
as if he had just made up his mind, the pipe having helped--"and do
you come in about nine and--let me know when you are there, or--better
still, wait in the hall until I come for you."

"But couldn't I steal in while you are talking?"

"No--you do just as I tell you. Not a sound out of you, remember, until
I call you."

"But how am I to know? She might go out the other door and--"

"You'll know when I come for you."

"And you think it will be all right, don't you?" he pleaded. "You'll
tell her what an awful time I've had, won't you, Uncle George?"

"Yes, every word of it."

"And that I haven't slept a wink since--"

"Yes--and that you are going to drown yourself and blow your head off
and swallow poison. Now off with you and let me think how I am to begin
straightening out this idiotic mess. Nine o'clock, remember, and in the
hall until I come for you."

"Yes--nine o'clock! Oh!--you good Uncle George! I'll never forget you
for it," and with a grasp of St. George's hand and another outpouring
of gratitude, the young fellow swung wide the door, clattered down the
steps, threw his leg over Spitfire, and dashed up the street.

CHAPTER II

If Kate's ancestors had wasted any part of their substance in too lavish
a hospitality, after the manner of the spendthrift whose extravagances
were recounted in the preceding chapter, there was nothing to indicate
it in the home of their descendants. No loose shutters, crumbling
chimneys, or blistered woodwork defaced the Seymour mansion:--the touch
of the restorer was too apparent. No sooner did a shutter sag or a hinge
give way than away it went to the carpenter or the blacksmith; no sooner
did a banister wabble, or a table crack, or an andiron lose a leg, than
up came somebody with a kit, or a