Lyon would probably have found himself somewhat embarrassed in explaining Kittie and her methods to Miss Wolcott if Mrs. Broughton had not been there. But Mrs. Broughton was there (and so was Mr. Broughton, whose presence at an exceedingly hasty and exceedingly private wedding that morning had been found necessary), and when Kittie saw her she ran to her and clung to her with hidden face, while Lyon told her story to the amazed little group of three.

"Poor child, poor child," murmured Mrs. Broughton, softly, touching the defiant little head that was crushed against her sleeve.

"Will Mr. Lawrence be released, then, without anything further?" asked Edith Wolcott. It was perhaps natural that to her that would be the pivotal point of the situation.

"Immediately. Howell is attending to the red tape of it now. It certainly won't take long."

Edith put up her hand to hide her trembling lips. Mrs. Broughton gave her a glance of sympathetic understanding, and then said to Lyon,

"And what about this dear little girl? Are there any other formalities,--"

"Howell will take care of that. There isn't anything to worry about. Her deposition will be laid before the county attorney, but as I understood it, she is not likely to be called on for much of anything else. The Grand Jury would only act on information laid before them, and if the county attorney is satisfied, there won't be any bill brought. In the meantime,--"

"I won't go back to Miss Elliott's. I won't--ever," Kittie interrupted suddenly.

Lyon glanced hesitatingly at Miss Wolcott, but that young woman was regarding the volcanic schoolgirl with surprise and with no special warmth of emotion.

"That's what she says," said Lyon, with a whimsical appeal. "If she persists, I suppose I must write--or someone must--to her uncle in Columbus, and explain why she refuses, and assure him that she is safe with friends until he can arrange for her."

"I won't go back to Uncle Joe," said Kittie, sitting up suddenly. "Do you think I could go to them and explain that I had--had killed anybody? Why, they would think I was crazy. They would look at me so. I won't go to anybody that knows me."

Lyon looked distressed. Miss Wolcott looked annoyed and perplexed. Mrs. Broughton looked at her husband,--a long glance, at least three sentences long,--and then she said quietly,

"Would you like to come to New York and stay with me for the rest of the winter, Kittie?"

"Would I?" gasped Kittie.

"Do you think your uncle and aunt would consent to your coming to pay me a visit?"

"They'd have to," said Kittie, calmly.

Mrs. Broughton laughed.

"We'll see what we can do by way of persuasion first. We'll go by way of Columbus when we go on, and explain our plans. I can't spare my little nurse yet. In fact, I think I must have you come with me for a while to the Metropole, while we have to stay in Waynscott. That may be--" she glanced inquiringly at Lyon--"a few days? Or a week?"

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