"But this is not a proper thing for a young girl to do!"
"I am not a young girl—I'm his wife! I love him! Come—put on your shawl!"
Catherine, standing at the side of the bed, was trying to make up her mind how to act. She said at last:
"No! I won't go!"
"Well, stay behind then! I'll go there by myself!"
Louise glided like an adder towards the staircase. Catherine rushed after her, and came up with her on the footpath outside the house. Her remonstrances were fruitless; and she followed the girl, fastening her undervest as she hurried along in the rear. The walk appeared to her exceedingly tedious. She complained that her legs were getting weak from age.
"I'll go on after you—faith, I haven't the same thing to drive me on that you have!"
Then she grew softened.
"Poor soul! You haven't anyone now but your Catau, don't you see?"
From time to time scruples took hold of her mind.