"Katrine, Katrine!" he pleaded. "It would be so unfair to you."
"Nonsense," she returned, shortly. There was surely never anything kinder or better in the world than this belittling of the whole matter.
"
And I may never be strong again—"
"Then I can have my own way more," she laughed.
"And your voice—"
"Beloved," she said, gravely, "I can never give up my singing. Don't think me vain when I say I sing too well to make it right for me to give it up. I don't believe that anybody who does a thing well, who has the real gift, can give it up. But that I shall never have to sing for money is a great happiness for me. I can sing for the poorer folk, for the ones who really feel. Ah," she cried, "I've plans of my own, Josef and I! And the study and the pain were to teach me how unimportant all things are in this world save only love."
"Katrine! Katrine!" he cried, "you must help me to be square to you!" He raised his hand, feeble from illness, in the manner of one who takes an oath. "I solemnly swear that I will never do you the injustice—"
"Don't!" she cried, springing quickly to her feet and catching the upraised hand quickly to her breast. "Don't!" Adding quickly, with a laugh, "It's dreadful to commit perjury!"
Their hands were still clasped as Mrs. Ravenel came out to join them. In the lavender gown,