st West Indian sugar, or of the butcher, whom
she suspects of frozen meat, or--or of the Y.W., who has left smudges on
the plates... Nothing more romantic, I assure you."

"Blind bat of a man! that's all _you_ know. I'll take to novel-writing
myself at this rate. If this is the insight and inner vision of `one of
the most popular of our young writers' there's room for Grizel Dundas!
I have not been in the house a week, but I know two things--_Some one_
is making love to Katrine, and--Katrine enjoys the process! By a
process of elucidation I know also that it is not the doctor with the
beard, nor the curate with the smile, nor the Caldecote squire who rides
the white horse, nor the squeaky person who sings. It isn't this
neighbourhood which holds the treasure. She has an air of calmness and
detachment in partaking of your rural joys. Not a flicker of `Will he
come?' ... Methinks my friend, he lives afar!"

The smile broadened upon Martin's lips. Women, the most sensible of
women, had a way of searching for sentimental reasons for the most
prosaic happenings; it was an interesting trait, and from the altitude
of a man's sound common-sense, attractive enough. It pleased him to
hear Grizel imagining love stories with Katrine as heroine, without
foundation as they were.

"Can't you go a little further and discover his name and address? It
would be interesting to know."

"Jim. India," replied Grizel with a promptness which startled her
hearer into attention at last. The face which confronted him was full
of triumph, and a malicious delight in his discomfiture. He stared
discomfited, amazed, subtly aggrieved.

"_Jim_, India! There _is_ no Jim! She knows no one there, not a soul,
except Jack Middleton and Dorothea. What put it into your head to fancy
such a thing? Has she--?"

"There _is_ a Jim, and the Middletons know him. Dorothea wrote about
some commissions, and Katrine showed me the note--wanting my advice.
There was a reference to one `Jim,'--she'd forgotten that, quite a
colourless reference, but when I questioned, she _blushed_!" Grizel
covered her cheeks with her hands, in eloquent gesture. "Oh, _such_ a
blush! I looked away, but I thought: `Why should one blush at a name?'
and after that I went _on_ thinking. It's Jim, India--Martin, you may
take my word for it, though how, and why, and when, I have no more idea
than you have yourself. There's a new interest in her life; any one
with two