_ idea of how monotonous it
is, or of how much I give up." She let her mind ponder on the episodes
of the last month, feeling an increasing glow of satisfaction in the
remembrance of her own sacrifices. A week's invitation refused because
Martin would have been left alone; a musical evening abandoned at the
last moment because Martin's head ached; two whole evenings devoted to
sleepy bridge, when she had wished to play tennis. No one could say
that she was not the most devoted of sisters! Martin had not even heard
of that first most tempting invitation; she had refused it without a
word, denying herself the meed of thanks and appreciation. Katrine felt
that a special laurel wreath was due to her for that fact alone;--every
time she recalled her own silence, she was thrilled anew with content.
Dozens of invitations she had refused for the same reason during the
last six years! She might certainly be allowed to enjoy her few
pleasures after her own fashion!

Suddenly her mood changed; her eye rested upon the tiny coroneted sheet,
and her previous elation died into distaste. What did it amount to
after all--this gala day of the season? A tiresome cross-country
journey, or, as an alternative, a long motor drive, tiring and costly; a
crush of smart celebrities making merry among themselves, while the
country folk stared from afar, avoiding each other at the beginning of
the afternoon, but in the end glad to meet, to compare notes, quiz and
admire, and so mitigate the growing loneliness. And it was to this that
she and her neighbours looked forward for weeks at a time, preening
themselves on the invitation received, or smarting beneath its omission!
What volumes it spoke of the flatness of life in a country town! How
tired, how tired, she was of it all! How she thirsted for a change...

"Has Dorothea never suggested that you should pay her a visit?"

Katrine started violently. The question leapt out at her suddenly as if
in continuation of her own thoughts. She gave a short, light laugh.

"Dozens of times! Years ago. She doesn't mention it any longer now
that she realises that it is impossible."

"Why impossible?"

"Martin! What would become of you?" The note of pained surprise in
Katrine's voice was very real, but her brother refused to treat it
seriously.

He shrugged his shoulders, and smiled an easy smile.

"Oh, I should rub along. I might get in a working housekeeper, or I
could take a room in