Grizel made no reply. She turned from the rose-bed, and passed along a winding path which led round the herbaceous border to the slope of the orchard beyond. It was a narrow path, too narrow for two to walk in line, so that Martin, following, could not see her face. It was like Grizel, he reflected, to have chosen that path at this moment. She divined that he could speak more openly unseen. "And even, Grizel, if I wrote in your painter's medium, my reds would have no glow! One cannot give out what one does not possess. While I am cold myself, how can I give out warmth? It is so long, Grizel, since my heart was warm!" A sigh floated back to his ears. "_Pauvre_!" breathed the deep voice, but she did not turn her head; the gleaming figure flitted before him down the darkening path. "I flattered myself that I had made a brave pretence. It was a good enough sham to delude the world, but You have found me out. Don't think that I regret it--I am thankful to Heaven that _some one_ understands. To be praised for what one knows to be false is a bitter pill. Sometimes I wonder, shall I throw it all up? Settle down comfortably into the rut, and--grow roses! I could grow good roses, Grizel; the best of their kind. There would be no need to be ashamed." In the twilight he saw her shake her head. A fold of the golden robe escaped her hands, and trailed on the ground. They stooped together to lift it up, and she smiled up at him with her sweet gay smile. "But you couldn't, Martin; you couldn't do it! You might make a hundred resolutions, but you'd begin again. There's no escape that way, dear man. You must write, as you must breathe, therefore it follows that you must get warm. Chills are depressing things, but they are dangerous only when they are allowed to settle. This old house of yours has its back to the sun." "I can read your parable, Grizel, but circumstances--like houses--are not easily turned round. Life has made chains for me from which I cannot escape. Katrine--" "I rather--suspect," interrupted Grizel drawling, "that Katrine's chains are slackening! Some one, or something, has been supplying the oil. Another creak or two and she will be breaking loose, and going off at a tangent which will surprise your innocent mind!" "Symbols again! I don't follow so easily this time, but if the signs are good, I am uncommonly thankful. I can talk openly to you, Grizel, for you won't misunderstand. Katrine is--on my mind! Perhaps it would be more honest if I said on my _nerves_! I've a suspicion that I'm on her nerves also, and the mischief of it is, that things are growing worse. There's nothing definitely wrong, and yet there's--everything! I feel an utter brute." To his astonishment, to his relief, Grizel laughed; a blithe and comfortable laugh. They had reached the summit of the orchard by this time, and had paused to look down at the twinkling lights of the village before turning back to the house.