“Don’t be too sure!” she said dryly. “Curiosity poses under many forms. I’ve a weakness for being on in the last act. Well! dress yourself, and come along, and be sure to speak prettily to the captain before you leave. He’s behaved like a brick. There’s tea in the saloon.”
By six o’clock Katrine and her chaperon were safely housed in the hotel, appreciating as they had never done before the blessings of terra firma. The next morning their baggage was restored to them, practically undamaged, and what was to Katrine most important of all, a letter arrived from Jim Blair.
She sat alone in her room holding the unopened envelope in her hand, gaining courage for the ordeal of reading the loving words. Strange how deep a hold this unknown man had taken of her affections! Bedford she loved with the stored-up passion of her life, but even Bedford himself had not been able to lessen her tenderness towards the man who had come into her life at the moment when she needed him most, and brought solace to her sore heart. It was cruelly hard to be obliged to bring pain and disappointment to so generous a lover. She flinched and coloured at the thought of her own conduct as viewed from the outside—just the weak, commonplace story of the pretty girl who starts on a voyage which is to bring her to a waiting lover, meets another man en route, and is false to her tryst,—but it was typical of Katrine’s conception of the character of her unknown lover, that through all her troubled thoughts the conviction remained that Jim would understand,—that however he might suffer he would neither be bitter nor unjust.
She sighed, and bracing herself resolutely, tore open the envelope. The blood rushed to her face as she read the opening words:
“My Own Katrine,
“No! I am not breaking my truce. This little breathing space between the sea voyage and the start up-country doesn’t count in the scheme. It’s a No-man’s land, of which this man would be a fool if he didn’t take possession forthwith!
“Besides, beloved, there are things that I want to say; things that need to be said... Your journey is nearly over, our meeting is close at hand, and if the truth were known there’s more fear than expectation in your heart! I know you too well not to realise that—but the fear must go! Get it out of your head once for all, little girl, that you have anything to dread from me. I want you, I want you badly, but most of all I want your happiness. That sounds the sort of thing one reads in books—just a bit too lofty and impersonal to be true, but if you come to worry it out, it’s only a higher kind of selfishness. Once love with your own heart and soul, love some one, that is to say, more than yourself, and as the most obvious of consequences, happiness is impossible for yourself unless it has first and foremost filled that other heart. Don’t worry yourself by any idea that you are pledged to me, in honour bound, or any nonsense of the kind. You are not; you are as free as air. If you should happen to like another man better than me (you won’t!) I’d help you to him. If you don’t want me (you will!) I’ll stand aside. Dear little girl, be aisy! I’m on your side.
“That ‘mad’ letter of yours was delicious sense. The veritable Katrine revealed herself more therein than in any letter I have yet received. And your little discourse on tenderness—that touched me! It is a quality which, as you say, is wanting in the love of many men, and the lack of it leaves a record on the faces of weary women. But, after all, you know, the doing or undoing, whichever you choose to call it, is in the main the fault of some other woman in the past! Why do mothers spoil their boys instead of training them in the small domestic kindnesses and attentions which will be so valuable later on? If I had a son... upon my life I believe I’d spoil him too!
“Seriously though, Katrine, it must be pre-eminently tenderness which is filling my heart today, for I can imagine; I can understand! I am so sorry for you, poor, puzzled girl! Is that a good augury for the future?