Katrine set her wits to work to puzzle out the problem before her, and at each point in her reflections the same question recurred with ever-increasing force. _Why had Grizel come back_? Realising as any woman must have done the depth of Martin's love, why, at this moment of all others, had she deliberately put herself in his way? Grizel was not heartless, her numerous flirtations had been of an open and innocent nature, stopping well short of the danger point; it was inconceivable to believe that she would deliberately increase Martin's pain. Then--could it be possible that she was _willing_ to sacrifice all; was but waiting for a word, a sign? It was almost impossible to believe, but at least, Katrine determined, the opportunity should be given. Now that the critical moment had arrived all other dreads dwindled before that of failing to do her share to secure Martin's happiness. That very day at lunch she made her attempt. "I have to be out this afternoon, Grizel," she announced. "A committee meeting, and a tea. Martin must amuse you. The study is cool in the afternoon, you might sit there, or have tea in the garden." Martin's start of surprise held no sign of pleasure. He appeared to be on the point of an objection, when Grizel's calm acquiescence closed his lips: "Yes--I'd like to! We'll try the study first." "We shan't need a fire to-day... I'm afraid it will be dull for you, but I can give you a good book." The words fell mechanically from Martin's lips, but it was Katrine who flushed with resentment; Grizel smiled on, unperturbed. An hour afterwards she was sleeping like a child on her bedroom sofa, and Katrine peeping in to say good-bye, asked herself amazedly if such composure could exist side by side with any deep feeling. "If I--" the very suggestion made her heart leap, she looked on the sleeping face with a stirring of indignation. Martin's life, and her own, shaken to their foundations, while Grizel slept! For a moment she wrestled with the temptation to shake the still form into consciousness, then turning slowly, left the room. Half an hour later Grizel opened her eyes, and sat up on her couch. There was no intermediary stage of heaviness and confusion, with the very opening of her lids she was vividly, composedly awake. She rose, sauntered to the glass, and surveyed herself with critical detachment. Her cheeks were flushed with sleep, her hair ruffled into a disorder undeniably becoming. Her lips parted in a smile of transparent pleasure, then deliberately she took the brush and smoothed back the curling ends, which being done she seated herself by the open window, took up a book, and read composedly until the pink had faded from her cheeks. It was a pale, orderly, infinitely less attractive Grizel who tapped at Martin's door, and seated herself by his desk. "I've come, you see! You didn't want me, but I wanted to come, and I always do what I want--"