She would not think of it--but it
loomed, nevertheless.

Of course, for the time being, there was Sandy Arnold on the crest of
one of his financial waves.

Kathryn was level-headed enough not to lose sight of receding waves
but then, on the other hand, the crest of a receding wave was better
than to be left on the sands--fat and forty! And Northrup was
displaying dangerous traits. A distinct chill shook Kathryn.

She turned her thought to Northrup. Northrup had seemed safe. He
belonged to all that was familiar to her. He would be famous some
day--that she might interfere with this never occurred to the girl.
She simply saw herself in a gorgeous studio pouring tea or dancing,
and all the people paying court to her while knowing that they ought
to be paying it to Northrup.

"But he always gets a grubby hole to work in." Kathryn fidgeted. "I
daresay he is working now in some smudgy old place."

But this thought did not last. She could insist upon the studio. A man
owes his wife _something_ if he will have his way about his job.

Just at this point a tap on the door brought a frown to Kathryn's
smooth forehead.

"Oh! come in," she called peevishly.

A drab-coloured woman of middle age entered. She was one of the
individuals so grateful for being noticed at all that her cheerfulness
was a constant reproach. She had been selected by Kathryn's father to
act as housekeeper and chaperon. As the former she was a gratifying
success; as the latter, a joke and one to be eliminated as much as
possible.

For the first time in years Kathryn regarded her aunt now with
interest.

"Aunt Anna"--Kathryn never indulged in graceful tact with her
relations--"Aunt Anna, how old _are_ you?"

Anna Morris coloured, flinched, but smiled coyly.

"Forty-two, dear, but it was only yesterday that my dressmaker said
that I should not tell that. It is not necessary, you know."

"I suppose not!" Kathryn was regarding the fatness of the woman who
was calmly setting the disorderly room to rights. "Aunt Anna, why
didn't you marry?"

The dull, fat face was turned away. Anna Morris never lost sight of
the fact that when Kathryn married she would face a stern situation
unless Kathryn proved kinder than any one had any reason to expect her
to be. So her remarks were guarded.

"Oh! my dear, my dear, _what_ a question. Well, to be quite frank, I
discovered at eighteen that some men could stir my senses"--Anna
Morris tittered--"and some couldn