. It seems as if the
blessed old home was all broken up. It can never be the same again. I
don't know how I can muster courage to come into this house after----"

"It will be easier after the first wrench. Everything is easier than we
think it's going to be. And, Kathrien," he went on, steadying his voice
by a supreme effort, "I hope you'll be happy--beautifully happy."

Neither of them realised that her hand had somehow slipped into his and
was resting very contentedly in the big, firm grasp.

"Whether I'm happy or not," replied Kathrien miserably, "it's the only
thing to do. Please try to believe that. Oh, James, he died smiling at
me--thinking of me--loving me. And just before he went he had begged me
to marry Frederik. I shall never forget the wonderful look of happiness
in his eyes when I promised. It was all he wanted in life. He said he'd
never been so happy before. He smiled up at me for the very last time,
with his dear face all alight. And there he sat, smiling, after he was
gone. The smile of a man leaving this life absolutely satisfied--at
peace!"

"I know. Marta told me. I----"

"It's like a hand on my heart, hurting it almost unbearably when I
question doing anything he wanted. It has always been so with me ever
since I was a baby. I never could bear to go against his wishes. And now
that he's gone--why, I _must_ keep my word. I couldn't meet him in the
Hereafter if I didn't keep that last sacred promise to him. I couldn't
say my prayers at night. I couldn't speak his name in them. Oom Peter
trusted me. He depended on me. He did everything for me. I must do this
for him."

"No, no!" exclaimed the Dead Man. "You are wrong. Tell her so, James!"

"I wanted you to know this, James," finished Kathrien,
"because--because----"

A gush of tears blotted out Hartmann's tense, wretched face and choked
her hesitating utterance.

"Have you told Frederik that you don't love him?" asked Hartmann,
forcing himself to resist the yearning to gather her into his arms and
kiss away her tears. "Does he know?"

She nodded, her face buried in her hands.

"And Frederik is willing to take you like that? On those terms?"

Another dumb nod of the pretty, fluffy little head, with its face still
convulsed and hidden.

"The yellow dog!" burst forth Hartmann.

"You flatter him," sadly assented Peter Grimm.

"Look here, Kathrien," hurried on Hartmann, "I didn't mean to say a word
of this to-day,--or ever. Not a word. Bu