“And?”
“And spoken with her to boot.”
“And never told me? After this marvels are dirt.”
“Mother, you were so hot against her. I waited till I could tell you without angering you worse.”
“Ay,” said Catherine, half sadly, half bitterly, “like mother, like daughter; cowardice it is our bane. The others I whiles buffet, or how would the house fare? but did you, Kate, ever have harsh word or look from your poor mother, that you—Nay, I will not have ye cry, girl; ten to one ye had your reason; so rise up, brave heart, and tell me all, better late than ne'er; and first and foremost when ever, and how ever, wend you to Sevenbergen wi' your poor crutches, and I not know?”
“I never was there in my life; and, mammy dear, to say that I ne'er wished to see her that I will not, but I ne'er went nor sought to see her.”
“There now,” said Catherine disputatively, “said I not 'twas all unlike my girl to seek her unbeknown to me? Come now, for I'm all agog.
“Then thus 'twas. It came to my ears, no matter how, and prithee, good mother, on my knees ne'er ask me how, that Gerard was a prisoner in the Stadthouse tower.”
“Ah”
“By father's behest as 'twas pretended.”