"A widow?"
"Yes, beyond a doubt; for if I do not come back in three months, be sure that nothing but death keeps me!"
"Don't! don't!" cried the poor wife, lifting her hands as if to ward off a blow.
"Well, well; there's nothing so dreadful about all this. One would think, by that face, you saw me in the water now, with a stone at my feet."
Again Katharine held up her hands and shut her eyes. The picture was too dreadful.
Spite of himself, Thrasher was touched by this evidence of affection; he changed his position, and stole his arm around her waist.
"There, now, we have settled all this terrible business, and can talk of brighter things," he said, caressingly. "Have you seen much of the old people since I went away?"
"I had no heart to go there often; but sometimes I saw your father at the gate. He always stopped if I was there when he rode by; and when mother was sick, Mrs. Thrasher always came."
"Dear old lady!" said Thrasher, with emotion. "When was she ever away when help could be given? Under all circumstances she will be good to you, wife or widow."
"Don't use that word widow; it makes me cold."