out of being at the first swift glance, and
with it the fret, and the tire. The deep-set eyes glowed upon her, the
hands stretched out.

"Grizel! Come in! Come in! I was just thinking. Wishing--"

Grizel floated past into the forbidden room, her glance as easily
avoiding his as her hands escaped his grasp. There was nothing curt or
forbidding in the evasion, she seemed simply oblivious of anything but a
friendly warmth of manner; engrossed in an interested survey of the
study itself. Her eyes roved round the book-lined walls, and rested
brightening upon the old-fashioned hearth. The fire was laid. In a
basket on one side of the hearth reposed a pile of resined logs. A
copper vase obviously contained coal.

"Martin!" she cried eagerly, "let's light up! I've been perished all
morning. Katrine says I'm unsuitably dressed. I am, but I never dress
to suit rooms. I heat them to suit _me_! Would you think the room
unbearably stuffy if we had a fire?"

"Not a bit of it! I often do. Sitting at a desk is chilly work."

He was already on his knees, posing logs scientifically over the paper
and wood, balancing small pieces of coal on the top. In an incredibly
short time a cheerful blaze was illuminating the room, and Grizel,
kicking off small brown shoes, was crinkling her toes before the fire.
Martin drew forward a second chair and seated himself beside her, in
apparent forgetfulness of the papers scattered over the desk.

"What a shame that you should be so chilled! Why haven't you had a fire
downstairs?"

"Katrine preferred exercise. She recommended a flannel shirt, and an
expedition to buy cabbages. British and bracing. Can you imagine _me_,
Martin, buying cabbages, in the rain, in a flannel shirt?"

He looked at her; an eloquent glance. There were two feelings warring
in his breast, indignation against his sister for her callousness and
lack of consideration, and a rush of protective tenderness towards the
sweet martyr so abused, for it is one of the injustices of life that the
woman who smiles and looks beautiful will always take precedence in a
man's heart over the assiduous purchaser of cabbages. For a moment
sympathy engrossed Martin's mind, then he smiled; a somewhat difficult
smile.

"It is hardly your _metier_! Still, if it happened that you were in
Katrine's position; if it came in your day's work--"

"If the garden were properly managed you would not _need_ to buy
cabbages! I'd di