Webster scarcely answered her; he had taken her hand, and stood looking in her fair face, and there was great pain and trouble in his heart.
“I have some news for you, May,” he said at length.
He had never before called her “May,” and she noticed this and blushed.
“News?” she answered. “Not bad news, I hope.”
Twice he opened his lips, but somehow no words came forth. And his manner was so strange that May grew really alarmed.
“What is it?” she said. “Oh! you frighten me—has anything happened?”
Then with a great effort he told her.
“May, Kathleen Weir is dead.”
The blood rushed to May’s face as she listened to these words, and then died away, leaving her very pale.