elf coldly outside the pale.
Katrine hardly realised it at the time, but in reality another word had
cut almost as deep. "_Old_!" Old Mr Deeds. "No one could be better!"
The first old man who came within reach appeared a fitting companion
for her, the while her companions went their unhindered way.

She sat rigid, her lips pressed in a hard, straight line. By her side
Grizel cast sorrowful glances. On occasions it is almost as
disagreeable to do good, as to be the object of benevolent designs!

CHAPTER EIGHT.

"Lebong, _June 20, 19--_.

"Katrine,

"Very well. Very well indeed. I understand, and I agree. My birthday
is next month, so it fits in all right. Rather a special birthday this
time, for I shall be twenty-five. Last year I was _thirty-five_. These
things happen sometimes; I've heard of them. When it comes to one's own
turn, it's jolly good work. You'll just have time to catch that
birthday, if you write off at once. Awfully good of you to worry about
my sufferings in being obliged to reply to your--problematically--boring
letters! I'll risk it, Katrine! I'll do more than that, I'll promise
to own up, and tell you straight, not only when I reach the bored stage,
but long before it is even approximately approached. If there is no
other advantage in this thundering distance, there is at least this,
that we can be honest to the verge of brutality, and there's no earthly
sense in a correspondence--(beg pardon!--occasional exchange of
letters)--if it is not for our mutual pleasure and profit. Wherefore,
Miss Sensitive Conscience, kindly understand that so long as I don't say
I am bored I am to be the superlative, the other thing!

"As to your first question, you are not only justified, but it's your
bounden duty to open your life to every fresh interest which comes
along. There's no greater mistake than to believe that any work can be
done the better for deliberately closing the shutters on all other
claims. You have a duty to yourself, as well as to that precious
Martin, and it is even conceivable that he might fare the better for a
little less attention!

"So far as I have gathered facts from Dorothea, Martin lost his wife
eight years ago. She was his wife for six short months, and she has
been dead eight years. He was a boy at that time; since then he has
grown into a man, and a reputation. The Martin who came to you in his
grief, and to whom you mortgaged your life, is dead too; a