Follow a Stranger

brought up like our girls, to blush at everything! If Kate is

pink it is because she wants to slap me, not because she is

shy.”

His mother looked from one to the other of them, very

slowly. A smile pulled at her lips. “Is that so?” she asked

quietly. “I see.”

“The first time we met,” he went on gaily, “she spat at

me like a cross kitten with its back arched. She almost

stepped under my car, yet she flew at me furiously for

daring to criticise her!”

Watching him from under lowered lashes, Kate

suspected his light tone hid resentment. It was the first

time had had ever referred to their first encounter.

“Perhaps you were rude to her, Marc,” his mother said

mildly. “Was he, Kate?”

Kate looked at her and was relieved to see that she

was smiling warmly. “Very rude,” she agreed, smiling

back.

“Ye gods!” he exclaimed. “I was the very model of

restraint! And when we met again she tore my character

into strips, told me how to run my life and threw me out

of her home as if I were a burglar!”

Mrs. Lillitos laughed softly. “The more I hear of her

the more I admire her! Now, Marc, go away, and let me

talk to Kate alone for a while. You are too disturbing.”

He made a violent grimace, but did not argue. When

he had gone, his mother smiled at her. “He was, even as

a boy—it was like having a hurricane permanently in

the house.”

Kate laughed. “I can imagine!”