would not be caught. As to the interests of
England in the Persian Gulf, both they and Mr. Kershaw might for the
moment go hang. Would Lady Kitty meet him in the old garden at
eleven-thirty, or would she not? That was the only thing that mattered.

However, it was still more than an hour to the time mentioned. Ashe
spent a while in roaming a wood delicately pied with primroses and
anemones, and then sauntered back into the gardens, which were old and
famous.

Suddenly, as he came upon a terrace bordered by a thick yew hedge, and
descending by steps to a lower terrace, he became aware of voices in a
strange tone and key--not loud, but, as it were, intensified far beyond
the note of ordinary talk. Ashe stood still; for he had recognized the
voice of Lady Kitty. But before he had made up his mind what to do a
lady began to ascend the steps which connected the upper terrace with
the lower. She came straight towards him, and Ashe looked at her with
astonishment. She was not a member of the Grosville house party, and
Ashe had never seen her before. Yet in her pale, unhappy face there was
something that recalled another person; something, too, in her gait and
her passionate energy of movement. She swept past him, and he saw that
she was tall and thin, and dressed in deep mourning. Her eyes were set
on some inner vision; he felt that she scarcely saw him. She passed like
an embodied grief--menacing and lamentable.

Something like a cry pursued her up the steps. But she did not turn. She
walked swiftly on, and was soon lost to sight in the trees.

Ashe hesitated a moment, then hurried down the steps.

On a stone seat beneath the yew hedge, Kitty Bristol lay prone. He heard
her sobs, and they went most strangely through his heart.

"Lady Kitty!" he said, as he stood beside her and bent over her.

She looked up, and showed no surprise. Her face was bathed in tears, but
her hand sought his piteously and drew him towards her.

"I have seen my sister," she said, "and she hates me. What have I done?
I think I shall die of despair!"

V

The effect of the few sobbing words, with which Kitty Bristol had
greeted his presence beside her, upon the feeling of William Ashe was
both sharp and deep, for they seemed already to imply a peculiar
relation, a special link between them. Had it not, indeed, begun in that
very moment at St. James's Place when he had first caught sight of her,
sitting forlorn in her white dress?--when