town. I might work better for a change of scene.
If you would like to go--"

"I shouldn't like anything which left you alone. It would not be worth
going for less than six months, and I couldn't possibly do that. I am
of _some_ use to you, Martin!"

This time the appeal was too direct to be ignored and the response came
readily enough.

"A very great deal. You have managed admirably, but it is possible to
be too unselfish. If you would like a change--"

Katrine drew in her breath with a sharp inhalation. "_Like it_!" like
to spend months with Dorothea and Jack Middleton! _Like_ to have the
experiences of that thrilling voyage, past the Bay, past Gib., along the
Mediterranean, through the Canal to the glowing East! _Like_ to see
India, with its riot of sun and colour, after six long years in a sleepy
country town! It would require an infinitely stronger word to give an
indication of the passionate longing which filled her heart. But to
Katrine, as to most people, the big sacrifice was less difficult than
the small, and all that was noble in her nature rose to meet the strain.
A week's recreation denied had left a sting which had found vent in
captious mood, but she had long since buried the great desire. It was
only the hopeless inadequacy of that word which had stung it into life.
_Like_!

Martin was watching her intently across the table. There was a hint of
anxiety in his face which touched a sensitive chord in Katrine's heart.
He needed her! She was all he had left. Unselfishness had prompted the
suggestion, but it had cost him dear. Impulsively she bent towards him,
her face a charming mingling of tenderness and fun.

"Dear man! It's noble of you, but it's no use talking. I--am--not--to
be budged! My place is here, and here I remain. In September you will
be off shooting, and then I'll take a trot around. One does want to get
out of Cumly sometimes. But I'll come back in time to have home ready
for your return."

Martin nodded absently. He made no further protestations one way or
another, and Katrine in her recovered complacency did not miss their
absence. The marmalade stage was reached and approaching a conclusion
before he spoke again, to ask a new and unexpected question:

"How old is it that you are now, Katrine? Twenty-three, twenty-four?"

"Twenty-six!" corrected Katrine with a grimace. "I'm a woman growed.
Getting most horridly old."

"Nonsense, nonsense!" Martin brushed