Katharine turned white, and suddenly shrank away from him. He did not seem to notice it, but went on in the same even voice.
"It will not be long—not more than two or three months at the most."
Katharine held her breath and listened, but sobs were gathering thick and heavy in her bosom.
"Three months!—three months! Oh, Nelson!" and now the sobs broke forth with painful violence.
"It may be less than that—I will get the shortest voyage that can be found. But for the shipwreck this might not have been so necessary; as it is, one must have a little money to go to housekeeping with. You wouldn't have me ask my father for that?"
"No, no. Besides, what would mother do without me just now—with this dreadful news to bear up against?" cried Katharine, hushing her sobs.
"I was sure you would see the whole thing in this sensible way, dear."
Katharine wiped her eyes and made a miserable effort to smile.
"Yes, I suppose it is best. But what if something happens to keep you away longer?—I should die! I should die!"
"But nothing can happen. If it should—that is, if I do not come back in three months at the furthest—take your certificate, go up to my mother, show it to her, and tell the old folks to take care of you for my sake; for after that, you may consider yourself a widow!"