her very marriage had been treated in
the light of an amusing joke. It was impossible to think of Juliet
becoming middle-aged and responsible. She was a flower of a day, and
her day had passed with startling, with horrible rapidity.

Martin had been stunned by his loss. He was but twenty-five at the time
of his marriage, and had found no difficulty in turning into a boy again
to make merry with his girl wife. As the months passed by, he had, it
is true, shown signs of a growing restiveness, born of a desire for
something more stable than everlasting frivoling, but before the
restiveness had had time to culminate, a sudden wind had swept the
delicate flower, and after a few days of agonising fear, the soul of
Juliet had fled, leaving behind a still, majestic mask, which even to
the husband who loved her was a strange and awesome thing.

Eight years ago! The colour was fading from the photographs. The fair
face with the large eyes and small open mouth was growing more and more
cloudy and indistinct, but as soon as her attention was directed to the
fact, Katrine had industriously ordered new copies from the old
negative, and distributed them about the house, waiting complacently for
her brother's recognition.

It never came. No word or glance betrayed Martin's knowledge of the
change. Even yet, Katrine reflected, even yet, he could not bear to
refer to the past! In his heart he was grateful, no doubt, but his
tongue could not speak. Juliet's name was never mentioned between them.
A blank wall of silence was drawn over that short, eventful year during
which she had passed meteor-like across their path. So far as Katrine
herself was concerned, grief had long since evaporated, but she reminded
herself constantly that for Martin it was different. Martin's sorrow
was for life.

Eight years ago, when she was barely eighteen, he had come to her, white
and haggard, and had spoken a few unforgettable words:

"You are the mistress now, Katrine. We are alone together, and I--and I
shall never many! Do as you please in the house. I shan't interfere; I
shall never care enough to interfere. My life is over."

He believed what he said; they both believed it, the girl of eighteen
and the youth of twenty-five, and alone in her room Katrine, who had
never kept in the same mind for a month together, made, with sobs and
tears, a life-long vow. Loyalty to Martin! faithfulness, devotion,
unending patience and tenderness