g the arrival of a new slave,
put forth his best wiles. He was a beautiful child, but in a
colourless, fragile fashion which differentiated him sadly from the
children at home. As Katrine held his limp little hand and looked at
the tracery of blue veins on the delicate forehead, her heart swelled
with pity and tenderness.

"I held a child, a little boy like this, in my arms all the time in,--in
the boat, Doll!" she said softly. "He comforted me! I realised then--
what it might mean--"

"Yes!" Dorothea's voice had an edge of pain. Her own treasure was held
by so frail a thread that the value of him could not be discussed.
Katrine divined as much, and switched the conversation to the safer
subject of appearances.

"He's adorable, Doll. A gem! Beyond all my dreams. And such a
discreet blend! Your eyes, and Jack's nose. Jack's hair, your
complexion--"

"Ah, my dear, that's a lost joy! Don't talk of complexions to me, and
you so pink and white. Katrine, you are so pretty! I never thought you
were going to be so pretty, though, of course, I've had photographs."

Involuntarily Katrine's eyes turned towards the mantelpiece, where a
certain photograph had been wont to stand, a bold photograph which had
made eyes at bachelor guests; had first pitied, and then decoyed. "I
give you my word it looked as if it _wanted_ to come!" The blood rose
in her cheeks; looking across the room at Dorothea, she perceived that
she also had flushed. Had she read the unspoken thought?

Once again the child's garrulity came to the rescue, but while she
played with him and drank her tea Katrine was conscious that Dorothea's
eyes were wandering towards the clock, and that she was summoning
courage for an announcement which had to be made.

Presently it came.

"Shall I take you to your room, dear? Your boxes have arrived and you
must be longing to have a bath and change. And it's getting late. Pour
o'clock. There is just an hour before--Jim comes!"

"Comes here?"

Dorothea nodded.

"He insisted. I tried to make it later, but it was no use. Five
o'clock, not a moment later."

Katrine rose hastily. Suppose he came earlier, and found her
unprepared! She was eager to reach the stronghold of her own room.

"I think," she announced haughtily, "it's presumptuous! One wants a
little time... Send word that I'm tired, and prefer to wait until
to-morrow."

Dorothea held out her hands with a gesture which signified that