ng to do--to kiss you,
when I thought--"

"You are to keep very still," I reminded him. He kissed my hand again,
but he persisted.

"I was mad--crazy." I tried to give him some medicine, but he pushed the
spoon aside. "You will have to listen," he said. "I am in the depths of
self-disgust. I--I can't think of anything else. You see, you seemed
so convinced that I was the blackguard that somehow nothing seemed to
matter."

"I have forgotten it all," I declared generously, "and I would be quite
willing to be friends, only, you remember you said--"

"Friends!" his voice was suddenly reckless, and he raised on his elbow.
"Friends! Who wants to be friends? Kit, I was almost delirious that
night. The instant I held you in my arms--It was all over. I loved you
the first time I saw you. I--I suppose I'm a fool to talk like this."

And, of course, just then Dallas had to open the door and step into the
room. He was covered with dirt and he had a hatchet in his hand.

"A rope!" he demanded, without paying any attention to us and diving
into corners of the room. "Good heavens, isn't there a rope in this
confounded house!"

He turned and rushed out, without any explanation, and left us staring
at the door.

"Bother the rope!" I found myself forced to look into two earnest eyes.
"Kit, were you VERY angry when I kissed you that night on the roof?"

"Very," I maintained stoutly.

"Then prepare yourself for another attack of rage!" he said. And Betty
opened the door.

She had on a fetching pale blue dressing gown, and one braid of her
yellow hair was pulled carelessly over her shoulder. When she saw me
on my knees beside the bed (oh, yes, I forgot to say that, quite
unconsciously, I had slid into that position) she stopped short, just
inside the door, and put her hand to her throat. She stood for quite a
perceptible time looking at us, and I tried to rise. But Tom shamelessly
put his arm around my shoulders and held me beside him. Then Betty
took a step back and steadied herself by the door frame. She had really
cared, I knew then, but I was too excited to be sorry for her.

"I--I beg your pardon for coming in," she said nervously. "But--they
want you downstairs, Kit. At least, I thought you would want to go,
but--perhaps--"

Just then from the lower part of the house came a pandemonium of noises;
women screaming, men shouting, and the sound of hatchet strokes and
splintering wood. I seized Betty by the arm, and togeth