threw it away.

"I do wish I could go too," said Betty wistfully. "I'd love to drive
all over the downs at night, particularly if there was a storm coming.
May I come too, Kitty?"

But Kitty, for several reasons, vetoed the suggestion. For one thing
she wanted to be alone with her father, to try her powers of argument
and persuasion against the summoning of Aunt Pike and Anna into their
midst; for another, she felt that to be driving in the dark, and
probably through a storm, was responsibility enough, without the care of
Betty added; and she felt, too, that though her father might be induced
to let one of them go with him, he would, under such circumstances,
shrink from the pleasure of their united company.

"No, Bet," she answered firmly, "you can't come to-night. I--I want to
talk things over with father; but," with sudden inspiration, "I tell
you what you can do, and it would be awfully sweet of you. You coax
Fanny to get something very nice for supper by the time we come home,
and see that Emily has the table properly laid, and that the glasses are
clean, and that there are knives enough, and--oh, you know, all sorts of
things."

"I know," said Betty, quite as delighted with the responsibility thrust
on her as she would have been with permission to go for the drive.

Dr. Trenire came out presently with some letters in his hand, which he
gave to Jabez. "Post those without fail," he said, then mounted to his
seat. He was so absorbed, or bothered, or tired, that he did not at
first observe Kitty's presence, or, at any rate, object to it; and when