“Yes; I asked a woman who said she was coming here to give my message. You are very kind to answer it so promptly.”
These were not the words Catherine had intended to say; but the gentle, almost holy presence of that young girl changed the whole current of her feelings. She came haughtily, as an inquisitor who had suffered wrong, but remained overpowered by the meek dignity of her reception.
“I had seen you once before, lady, and was glad to come.”
“Seen me, child, and where?”
“At the ledge, on the opposite shore, when you met Walter Butler.”
“And you heard that conversation?”
“Yes. I could not help it. Before it was possible to get away you had said everything.”
“Then you know that he is married to my daughter?”
“I know that he is married to a young Indian girl, who may be your daughter. The missionary told me of the marriage, but nothing more.”
“And your sister—for it is of her I wish to speak, it is her I warn—did she know this?”