“'To my brothers Cornelis and Sybrandt—Be content; you will see me no more!'”
“What does that mean? Ah!”
“'To my sister Kate. Little angel of my father's house. Be kind to her—' Ah!”
“That is Margaret Brandt, my dear—his sweetheart, poor soul. I've not been kind to her, my dear. Forgive me, Gerard!”
“'—for poor Gerard's sake: since grief to her is death to me—Ah!” And nature, resenting the poor girl's struggle for unnatural composure, suddenly gave way, and she sank from her chair and lay insensible, with the letter in her hand and her head on Catherine's knees.
CHAPTER XLIV
Experienced women are not frightened when a woman faints, or do they hastily attribute it to anything but physical causes, which they have often seen produce it. Catherine bustled about; laid the girl down with her head on the floor quite flat, opened the window, and unloosed her dress as she lay. Not till she had done all this did she step to the door and say, rather loudly:
“Come here, if you please.”
Margaret Van Eyck and Reicht came, and found Margaret lying quite flat, and Catherine beating her hands.