nks, I suppose," said Kathleen, "that she'll subdue me by these
means. She wants to bring, not the long arm of the law, but father's arm
right across the sea to stop me. No, no, daddy, your Kathleen will be
your Kathleen to the end--always loving, always daring, always true,
but always rebellious; the best and the worst. I am going to-night, and
I am going all the more surely because you wired to me not to go, and
because they are daring to bully dear little Ruth Craven. And after I
have had my fling I will come back in good time. No fear; nothing will
go wrong. Your Kathleen wouldn't hurt a fly, much less your heart. But I
mean to have my fun to-night."

Kathleen quite sobered down as these thoughts came to her. It was now
getting dusk. The girls were to meet at the station at half-past five.
They were to go in quite quietly by twos and twos; each couple of girls
was to go to the booking-office and take their tickets, and walk away
just as though nothing special had happened. They were on no account to
collect in a mass. They were not even to take any notice of each other
until they were off. Once the train was in motion all would be safe;
they might meet then and talk and be merry to their hearts' content. Oh,
it was a good, good time they were about to have!

This arrangement about meeting one another had been suggested by Kate
Rourke, who knew a good deal about theatres, and who also knew how
dangerous it would be for so many girls to be seen at the station
together; but dressed quietly, and just dropping in by couples, nobody
would remark them.

"And then we must go straight to the theatre," she said, "and stand
outside the pit, and take our chance; but we will have time enough for
that if we leave Merrifield by the quarter-to-six train."

Kathleen noticed that evening that Alice watched her as she moved about
the room; that Alice occasionally lifted her eyes and glanced at her
when she sat down to read; and when she approached the tea-table and
helped herself to tea and bread-and-butter and jam, Alice also kept up
that gentle sort of espionage. It annoyed Kathleen; she found herself
watching for it. She found herself getting red and annoyed when the
calm, steadfast gaze of Alice's brown eyes was fixed on her face.
Finally she said:

"What are you doing? Why do you stare at me?"

"Sorry," replied Alice. She bent over her book, and did not glance again
at Kathleen.

By-and-by Kathleen went upstairs. She went