"You twist things about; your arguments are specious; they are arguments without premises. Who said I was going to waive three months? I'm not at all sure that I shall. What would they say at home? They know I'm not the sort of girl to fall in love on a few days' acquaintance." "Why bring Cranford into the question? Does it matter one button what they think? Besides, I don't wish to be boastful, but as a matter of fact, you _did_!" "I didn't!" Katrine contradicted. "No! thank goodness, I am restored to my own confidence. I understand now that it was only because you _were_ Jim, because I recognised _yourself_ in spite of disguises that I did--fall! I was really absolutely loyal throughout, but other people won't understand--Mrs Mannering, for instance! I told her there was `some one else.'" "And I went one better, and told her who I was! We had a heart-to-heart talk that morning in Bombay before I left, and cleared up all misunderstandings. She's a good sort. We owe her a lot. Perhaps some day we may be able to pay some of it back, to her boy." Katrine nodded dumbly. She was occupied in reviewing her journey up country in the light of the revelation, and seeing in it an explanation of her companion's idiosyncrasies, her mysterious chuckles of laughter, her tenderness, alternated with raillery, her suppressed excitement at the moment of arrival. She had known all the time, even in Bombay, when the letter arrived! Katrine started, confronted by another mystery. "The letter! The one at Bombay--" "What about it?" "You wrote it, of course, but how, when? Not before our voyage. You _knew_ when you wrote--" "Yes; I knew," he said softly. "It was written on the night we arrived. I trusted to your ignorance of the country in the matter of postmarks, and to your femininity to pass the absence of date! Was it selfish of me to send it? I knew you would be expecting to hear, and it was a comfort to me to write. Besides, I felt that a moment would come when it would be a comfort to you, too. You had trained me to understand that your mind worked in flashes, and that at a glance you could grasp a situation which would petrify a poor male thing. Remembering this, I believed--I _hoped_ that at the very moment of discovery you might remember what I had said, and realise that all was right between us-- always had been right, always would be to the end! I wanted you to realise that that letter had been written _after_ we had met, and that my love had changed only to grow deeper." Katrine sighed; a deep, long-drawn sigh in which was the sound of immeasurable content.