eyes can see that, and she writes huge, huge letters..."

"To Dorothea! She's done that for years. I've often wondered what she
finds to say."

Grizel rolled eloquent eyes to the ceiling.

"I have been young," she declaimed dramatically, "and now am old, yet
have I never seen a woman staring into space, smirking, and looking
silly, considering how she can best turn a sentence, to another woman!
I tell you that which I do know and, Martin dear, it's not disloyalty...
I wouldn't have breathed a word, if it had not been for the hope of
helping both. Keep your own eyes open, and _act_! Katrine's conscience
is of the good, old-fashioned, Nonconformist type which urges her on to
do the thing she most dislikes, out of a deluded idea that it must needs
be right! She's quite capable of playing suttee with her life. _Don't
let her do it_!"

"How can I help it? I know nothing. I am not consulted. I believe the
whole thing is imagination. If there had been anything real she would
surely have confided in you."

"Me? I'm the last person,--the last person in the world--"

The words were spoken on the impulse of the moment, and apparently
regretted as soon as they were pronounced. Grizel flushed; obviously,
unmistakably, even in the glow of the firelight. She flushed, and
pushing back her chair rose hurriedly to her feet.

"Whew! That fire! Katrine was right,--it _does_ get close. And I
believe it is going to clear.--I'll go and see."

"Why are you the last? _Why_?"

Martin had followed her, was questioning with a new light in his eyes--
eager, curious, anticipatory. On her way towards the door her progress
was blocked by his tall form.

"Why the last, Grizel?" he repeated urgently. "Tell me! I want to
know. Why should Katrine--?"

Never before had he seen a trace of embarrassment break the lazy
serenity of Grizel's mien. The sight of it, and the possibility of an
intoxicating explanation of her statement, fired his blood. For the
last two years he had been fighting against this love, fighting it as a
forbidden thing, a thing of which to be ashamed, but lately, subtly, the
mental position had changed. Life was forcibly pushing him from one
standpoint after another, proving its untenability, sending him forth to
find fresh fields.

"Why should Katrine--?" he cried, and at that moment the door opened and
Katrine herself stood upon the threshold.

Her face was pale, her eyes grave and gentle, the p