“Bless us, my child, what trouble you’ve given me, and all from riding alone. I knew something terrible would happen from the first. But don’t think I blame you. I’m too glad to see you for that.”
In fact, Mrs. Warren, having discharged her conscience in the way of reproof, began to kiss her niece passionately, at the same time bursting into tears. Uncle Lawrence afterwards remarked, that he thought, that “next to fallin’ into the clutches of a baar, the most dangerous thing was bein’ hugged by Mrs. Warren, for she nigh a’most squeezed Katie to death.”
It was a long time before Kate recovered from the effects of that terrible day and night. Though she had borne up so heroically while the peril continued, she broke down completely after she found herself safely at home; and for nearly a week she was unable even to leave her chamber. By the end of that time, however, she appeared in the parlor, where, though still pale, she seemed to Major Gordon lovelier than ever.
Our hero, who had called daily to inquire after her progress, was almost transported beyond himself, when, one morning, on being shown as usual into the parlor, he saw Kate sitting there instead of her formal aunt. The young heiress rose immediately, and frankly advanced, extending her hand.
“This is, indeed, a surprise,” cried Major Gordon, taking the delicate little palm between his two hands. “I had not hoped so much, after what Mrs. Warren said yesterday.”
“My good aunt,” replied Kate, with a smile and a blush, “always takes the worst view of things, you know.”
“Has she done censuring you for being the sole cause of your late peril, by riding out alone?” asked the Major, smiling also, as he led her to the sofa.
“She has it over a dozen times a day, and always ends by declaring she ‘knew something dreadful would happen;’ that’s her pet phrase. But come, we musn’t laugh at aunt’s foibles in this way; she’s an excellent creature; and, you know, you and she are to be the best of friends.”
From this opening of the conversation, and from the tone of the speakers, it was evident that they had come already to a perfect understanding. Major Gordon, in fact, had written a letter to Kate, when he found that she could not leave her chamber; for he deemed it due to both herself and him, that an explicit avowal of his feelings should be in her hands without delay. This letter was really the best medicine Kate could have had; for, by assuring her of his love, it removed what otherwise would have been a source of secret agitation to her.
The reader, indeed, must long since have suspected that Kate was as much in love with Major Gordon as he with her. The interview at the bridge, with our hero’s conduct afterwards, had first opened her eyes to the state of her heart. The letter of our hero afforded her at last an opportunity, consistent with maidenly propriety, to acknowledge her affection; and as she was too true-hearted and sincere to trifle with her correspondent, she wrote immediately such an answer as made the recipient nearly wild with joy, though the note itself was quite simple and even laconic.