Natalie Sumner Lincoln

“ Kitty nodded an affirmative. Wallace wavered a moment, glanced at the bunch of keys which Kitty produced from her muff, then cast a fleeting look at the walk which skirted the mansion. “Kitty,” he stepped closer to her side, his hands fumbling awkwardly with his hat. “Did you and your aunt really quarrel about me on Sunday?”
Kitty stepped back as if shot. “What an egotistical question?” she stammered, with a brave attempt at a laugh. “On the contrary, Leigh, Aunt Susan and I had words over a matter of no importance; as was our habit. Good-by.” ”

“ Say, Kitty, why don’t you go to a hotel?”
“Do what?” Kitty’s astonishment was obvious.
“Close up your house,” with hurried emphasis. “You ought not to live there alone. What is Craige thinking of to let you do it?”
“But I am not alone,” she pointed out. “Oscar and Mandy are living with me now. Besides—” it was her turn to hesitate. “The police wish the house kept open.”
“They do, eh?” Wallace turned and scowled at the mansion. “Have you heard anything, Kitty—any new theories about your aunt’s death?” ”

“ Don’t say you won’t,” as she shook her head. “I must talk to you—by yourself. Don’t refuse, Kitty, don’t.”
Kitty looked at him steadily. “We can talk as we walk along,” she said quietly. “Come.” And her decided tone left Wallace nothing to do but match his footstep to hers as she sauntered along.
From her sheltered nook in the window Mrs. Parsons saw Major Wallace’s rapid approach to her front door, observed his belated recognition of Kitty, heard his hail, and watched their leisurely walk down the street. ”