“God forgive them, whoever it was,” said Catherine gravely; “me it was not, nor my man.”
“Well,” said the other, a little softened, “now you have seen her, perhaps you will not be quite so bitter against her madam. She is coming to, thank Heaven.”
“Me bitter against her?” said Catherine; “no, that is all over. Poor soul! trouble behind her and trouble afore her; and to think of my setting her, of all living women, to read Gerard's letter to me. Ay, and that was what made her go off, I'll be sworn. She is coming to. What, sweetheart! be not afeard, none are here but friends.”
They seated her in an easy chair. As the colour was creeping back to her face and lips. Catherine drew Margaret Van Eyck aside.
“Is she staying with you, if you please?”
“No, madam.”
“I wouldn't let her go back to Sevenbergen to-night, then.”
“That is as she pleases. She still refuses to bide the night.”
“Ay, but you are older than she is; you can make her. There, she is beginning to notice.”
Catherine then put her mouth to Margaret Van Eyck's ear for half a moment; it did not seem time enough to whisper a word, far less a sentence. But on some topics females can flash communication to female like lightning, or thought itself.