"Oh! I remember," exclaimed the young maiden, upon whose heart the noble conduct of Richard Markham towards her despised and degraded relative had made a deep impression: "my uncle said to me, 'I am almost sorry that I ever parted with you; but as you are now in a place that may do you good, I shall not interfere with you.'"
"Ah! my dear young friend," exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, "how fatal might that place have been to you after all? But where are you going to live now? If you can make yourself happy with me, I will offer you a home and show you the kindness of a mother."
Katherine turned a look of deep gratitude upon the good woman who made her this generous offer; and then she glanced timidly towards her uncle and Richard Markham.
"If I may be allowed to speak my thoughts in this matter," said our hero, "I should counsel Katherine to accept a proposition so kindly, so frankly made; and it shall be my duty to see that she becomes not a burden upon the friend who will provide her with a home."
"I can give no opinion in the matter, sir," observed the executioner: "there is something about you which compels me to say, 'Deal with me and my family as you will.' Command, sir, and we will obey."
"I never command—but I advise as a friend," said Richard, touched by the strange gentleness of manner which was now evinced by one lately so rude, so brutal, so self-willed. "Katherine, then, has your consent to accompany Mrs. Bennet to Hounslow?"
"And I sincerely thank Mrs. Bennet for her goodness towards that poor girl who has undergone so much," said the executioner.
Mrs. Bennet now suggested that her husband would be uneasy if she remained long absent from home; and Richard immediately summoned the waiter, to whom he gave orders to procure a post-chaise.
This command was speedily executed. Katherine took leave of her relatives, Markham, and Benstead, with streaming eyes.
"God bless you, my girl," said the executioner, in a tone the tremulousness of which he could not altogether subdue.