Donelle groped toward a chair and sat down.
"I quite understand your surprise," said Katherine. "You have known my husband as—as Richard Alton. You see, Mr. Law was going abroad; he was to have carried out Mrs. Lindsay's wishes for you, but he sent my husband instead. I suppose Mr. Norval wanted to know you well before he disclosed his errand."
Donelle was experiencing the same sensation she had felt when Pierre Gavot, upon the lonely road, had spoken the terrible word years and years before!
"I see I have surprised you, child?"
Katherine Norval was growing restive under the look in the wide, glowing eyes fixed upon her. "It is always a bit of a shock to find that someone has—played with you. But I'm sure my husband meant no harm, at first; and then he would not know how to get out of his scrape. That would be like him, too." A laugh followed the words, a hard, thin, but sweet laugh.
Still Donelle sat looking straight before her and keeping that awful silence which was becoming irritating.
"Perhaps you do not believe me," Katherine said rather desperately and with a distinct sense of the absurdity of her position. "See here!"
Taking a locket from her bosom she opened it and held it before Donelle's staring eyes.
"These are my husband and baby!"
The picture of Norval was perfect; the child, young and lovely, seemed to be smiling trustfully at him.