Catharine staggered back, warding the woman off with her hands, as she drew closer to her.
“That name, why do you call me by that name? I do not bear it. I will not hear it—I tell you, woman, it is not my name.”
“Right,” answered the woman, smiling shrewdly, “it is not your name.”
“Well then, if it is not my name, why torment me with it? What does Mrs. Oakley want of me? I am not her friend. No one is my friend. I am alone, quite, quite, alone!”
“I am your friend.”
“You, and tell me news like this?”
“You wish to prevent this wedding.”
“No, no; I wish nothing, I hope nothing. I have a hard duty that will torture me, that is all.”
“But you must prevent it.”
“I must. Yes, I have known that all along. But how? Great heaven! direct me how.”