because of me?"

Miss Keating did not answer.

"I see. So you don't like me any more?"

"We won't put it that way."

Kitty came and stood beside Miss Keating and looked down at her.

"Bunny, have I been a brute to you?"

"No."

"Have I ever been a brute to any one? Have you ever known me do an
unkind thing, or say an unkind word to any one?"

"N--no."

"Then why do you listen when people say unkind things about me?"

Miss Keating stooped very low over the trunk. Her attitude no doubt
accounted for the redness of her face which Kitty noticed. "I think I
know what they've been saying. Did you or did you not listen?"

"Listen?"

"Yes. I don't mean behind doors and things. But you let them talk to
you?"

"You cannot stop people talking."

"Can't you? I'd have stopped them pretty soon if they'd talked to me
about you. What did they say?"

"You've said just now you knew."

"Very well. Who said it?"

"You've no reason to assume that anybody has said anything."

"Was it Mr. Lucy, or his sister?"

Miss Keating became agitated.

"I have never discussed you with Mr. Lucy. Or his sister." There was a
little click in Miss Keating's throat where the lie stuck.

"I know you haven't. They wouldn't let you."

Kitty smiled. Miss Keating saw the smile. She trembled. Tears started to
her eyes. She rose and began sorting the pile of clothing on the bed.

Something in her action inspired Kitty with an intolerable passion of
wonder and of pity. She came to her and laid her hand on her hair,
lightly and with a certain fear.

Miss Keating had once purred under Kitty's caresses. Now she jerked back
suddenly and beat off the timid hand.

"I wish you wouldn't touch me."

"Why not?"

"Because it makes me loathe you."

Kitty sat down on the bed. She had wrapped her hand in her
pocket-handkerchief as if it had been hurt.

"Poor Bunny," she said; "are you feeling as bad as all that? You must
want dreadfully to marry that long man. But you needn't loathe me. I'm
not going to make him marry _me_."

"Can you not think of anything but that?"

"I can _think_ of all sorts of things. At present I'm thinking of that.
It does seem such an awful pity that you haven't married. A dear little,
sweet little, good little thing like you--for you _are_ good, Bunny.
It's a shame that you should have to live in rage and fury, and be very
miserable, and--and rather cruel, just because of that."

"If every word you said of me w