or a moment surprise and admiration engrossed her mind, then quickly
following came another thought. The letter!--where was the letter? Was
there no letter enclosed? Katrine dashed at the scattered wrappings,
shook them apart, and failing to find any trace of what she sought,
fumbled with the lid of the box itself. It was tightly jammed, but a
little coaxing set it free, and in the cavity lay a sheet of foreign
paper, closely covered with a man's strong, well-formed writing.

Katrine seated herself on the chair by the window, with a strange, dazed
feeling of expectancy. A narrow strip of garden separated the side of
the house from the lane without. With half-conscious eyes she saw a
blue-robed figure strolling slowly by, followed by a fat, waddling pug.
Mary Biggs, the lawyer's sister, taking Peter Biggs for his morning's
stroll. Approaching from the opposite direction came a trim figure in
grey, sandwiched between two small girls, with skirts cut short to
display shapely brown legs. Mrs Slades's governess taking the children
for their morning stroll... The little hamlet was pursuing its quiet,
machine-like way; no tremor of excitement had disturbed its calm, but in
Katrine's room was the scent of the East, and out of the silence six
thousand miles away, a man laid bare to her his heart.

CHAPTER THREE.

"Lebong, _May 10, 19--_.

"Captain Blair presents his compliments to Miss Beverley, and takes the
liberty of forwarding for her acceptance an antique brass box, which he
trusts may be considered worthy of a place in her collection.

"Katrine! It is such a delicious little name; it is the only name by
which I have ever heard you called. Will you forgive a lonely fellow,
six thousand miles away, if he writes to you as he thinks? It's
ridiculous to let conventions throw their shadow across the world, but
if you _will_ have it, enclosed is the conventional, colourless,
third-person missive. Keep it, and tear up the rest unread. I give you
full liberty to do it.

"But you won't.

"I might as well confess at once,--that box is a delusion and a snare.
I didn't `hit upon it'; I searched for it far and wide. Properly
regarded, it is not a box at all; it is an excuse; a decoy. I wanted
one badly, and it was the best I could find.

"The nuisance of it is that we meet on such unequal terms! You know my
name; you have probably gathered an impression that, as fellows go, I'm
not a bad fellow, though a tr