o use trying to brace me, for I won't _be_ braced. I'll go
upstairs, and complain to Martin."

That threat roused Katrine to whole-hearted attention. She shut the
little red book--the butcher's book, this time, swept it and its
companions into a neat pile, and sprang to her feet.

"You'll do nothing of the sort. _Nobody_ interrupts Martin when he is
at work. We are forbidden even to knock at the door for anything short
of a fire or an earthquake. It might spoil his work for the whole
morning."

Grizel stared at her thoughtfully.

"That reminds me," she soliloquised slowly. "I _promised_ to help him,
and it's four whole days, and I've never been near! It's my duty to go
at once, and I'll tell him my brain can't work unless I'm warm. We'll
light a fire and roast, while you swim home with the cabbage. Why on
earth didn't I think of that before?"

She smiled into her hostess's face with an easy assurance which brought
a spark into the dark blue eyes. Katrine was honestly trying not to be
angry. Before now she had had experience of Grizel in a perverse mood,
and knew that it was not by force that one could move her from her
purpose. She adopted an air of resignation, and approached the bell.

"Very well, then, you shall have your fire, and you can read comfortably
beside it, or write letters, while I'm away. And I'll tell Mary to
bring you a cup of chocolate. You are a spoiled baby, Grizel; when
you've taken it into your head to do a thing, one might as well give in
first as last."

"Yes," agreed Grizel calmly. "I'm going to Martin."

She rose in her turn and strolled towards the door, while Katrine stood
helpless, her hand on the bell.

"Grizel!"

"Yes."

"Don't go!"

There was a look on her face, a tone in her voice, which arrested
Grizel's attention. Half-way across the room she paused, and studied
her hostess with those eyes which looked so lazy, but which saw so
uncommonly well. There was dread as well as annoyance on Katrine's
face.

"What will happen if I do? What is it you are afraid of?"

"He'll be furious. Terribly angry." But in her heart Katrine knew that
this was not her fear. Her fear was lest Martin should _not_ be angry.

Grizel considered, a slow smile curving her lips.

"But that," she said, "would be amusing. Much more amusing than buying
cabbages. I'd like to see Martin angry!"

She turned and continued her way. From her position by the bell Katrine
could wat