e
answering.

"The last four years of my life have contained something overmuch of
Dermott McDermott--" And then, the animosity gone from him, "Katrine,"
he cried, "in Heaven's name, what did I ever do to him? He seems to
spend his time trying to circumvent my plans. He hates me so that it
seems"--he waited for an appropriate word--"funny," he ended, with a
laugh. "I have sometimes thought he was in love with you. Is he in love
with you, Katrine?"

"Tell me about the railroad," she said, taking no note whatever of his
question. "I have heard many things of it."

"Well," he began, "there were many things to hear. One by one the men
who had pledged themselves 'went back on me,' as the Street phrase is,
which brought out all the obstinacy in me. I built it myself. It's a
success, and it's lucky," he ended, "for if it weren't I don't know
where I should have ended in a money way. I was desolate and, as you
told me cheerfully in one of the letters to the Great Unknown, 'full of
ignorances and narrow-mindedness.' There was never anything better came
to me, save one, than the work. I think it has made me better. I hope
so."

"It's queer, queer, queer, this little world, isn't it?" she demanded,
abruptly.

"It is, indeed."

"Here are we, together again, after many years, talking about ourselves,
just as we did in those other days."

The old Katrine was beside him, with the pleading, explaining, dependent
note in her voice, the same rapid, short sentences, the same shy look
which was ever hers when doing a kindness. "I must tell you the reason I
wrote the note. Last night I was very angry at you. I forgot Josef, who
showed me that anger is for fools only. Then Dermott came, and while we
were walking on the terrace I told him everything: that I owed you
money; that I wanted it paid at once. He is Madame de Nemours' executor.
She left me--not a great fortune, you know, but more than enough to
repay your loan to me. So much is simple. But there is more." She
hesitated before slipping her small, bare hand in his again. "Dermott
thinks he knows something which will cause you much sorrow and trouble.
He is not certain. He is waiting letters from France. And I wanted to
tell you that it will rest almost entirely with me to say what shall be
done about this bad news which may arrive. And I want you, when trouble
comes, to remember that once I said I would come from the end of the
earth to serve you--Well," she said, the look o