"I know it is," she returned.

"Is that why you are going to be married?" he asked quizzically.

"It will probably cure the man I marry of himself," she retorted. "Oh,
neither of us know what we are talking about--let's change the subject!"
she added impatiently now, with a change of mood, as she poured the water
off the potatoes.

There was a moment's silence in which they were both thinking of the same
thing. "I wonder how it's all going inside there?" he remarked.
"I hope all right, but I have my doubts."

"I haven't any doubt at all. It isn't going right," she answered
ruefully; "but it has to be made go right."

"Whom do you think can do that?"

Kitty looked him frankly and decisively in the face. Her eyes had the
look of a dreaming pietist for the moment. The deep-sea soul of her was
awake. "I can do it if they don't break away altogether at once. I
helped her more than you think. I told her I had opened that letter."

He gasped. "My dear girl--that letter--you told her you had done such a
thing, such--!"

"Don't dear girl me, if you please. I know what I am doing. I told her
that and a great deal more. She won't leave this house the woman she was
yesterday. She is having a quick cure--a cure while you wait."