The widow drew a deep breath. She looked anxiously from little Edward to her visitor, attempted to speak, and desisted again, as if afraid of saying too much.
“And his mother? Oh, for mercy’s sake, if you know anything of his mother, tell me about her?”
“I know nothing,” answered Catharine, with sudden reserve. “How should I?”
“Not even the mother’s name? Only tell me that, and I will pray for you—bless you forever!”
There was so much anxiety, something so eager in her voice and manner, that Catharine was deeply touched.
“I only know her Christian name, certainly,” she answered.
“Yes, yes, and that was——” Mrs. Oakley broke off, checking herself suddenly in her interrogations.
“That was Louisa, I am sure it was Louisa; as for the rest, I have no certainty.”
“But you heard other names?”
“Yes, several.”