She came down
to dinner in a costume as different as possible from the one which she
had worn in the afternoon. Her dress was of some shining white stuff,
very long, very much trimmed, cut very low at the neck; her hair was
once more touzled, curled and pinned, in its most elaborate fashion; and
her gold necklet and bracelets were only fit for a dinner-party. It is
to be feared that Rupert Vivian did not admire her taste in dress. If
she had worn white cotton it would had pleased him better.

There was a wall between them once more. She was more conscious of it
than he was, but he did not perceive that something was wrong. He saw
that she would not look at him, would not speak to him; he supposed that
he had offended her. He himself was aware of an increasing feeling of
dissatisfaction--whether with her, or with her circumstances, he could
not define--and this feeling found expression in a sentence which he
addressed to her two days after the game of battledore and shuttlecock.
Hugo had been to the house again, and had been even less guarded than
usual in his love-making. Kitty meant to put a stop to it sooner or
later; but she did not quite know how to do it (not having had much
experience in these matters, in spite of the coquettishness which Rupert
attributed to her), and also she did not want to do it just at present,
because of her instinctive knowledge of the fact that it annoyed Mr.
Vivian. She was too much of a child to know that she was playing with
edged tools.

So she allowed Hugo a very long hand-clasp when he said good-bye, and
held a whispered consultation with him at the door in a confidential
manner, which put Rupert very much out of temper. Then she came back to
the drawing-room fire, laughing a little, with an air of pretty triumph.
Rupert was leaning against the mantelpiece; no one else was in the room.
Kitty knelt down on the rug, and warmed her hands at the fire.

"We have such a delightful secret, Hugo and I," she said, brightly. "You
would never guess what it was. Shall I tell it to you?"

"No," he answered, shortly.

"No?" She lifted her eyebrows in astonishment, and then shrugged her
shoulders. "You are not very polite to me, Mr. Vivian!" she said,
half-playfully, half-pettishly.

"I do not wish to share any secret that you and Mr. Hugo Luttrell may
have between you," said Rupert, with emphasis.

Kitty's face changed a little. "Don't you like him?" she said, in a
rather timid voice.