"She went on saying that until I really thought she was almost light-headed. At last Loftus beckoned me out of the room.
"'What is it, Loftus, what is wrong?" I asked.
"'Poor mother,' he replied; 'she loves Beatrice, and she had set her heart on this. Her nerves are a good deal shaken lately. Poor mother! she has had a more troubled life than you can guess about, Catherine.'
"'Loftie,' I answered, 'I have long guessed, I have long feared.'
"'If I could win Beatrice,' said Loftus, 'my mother should never have another ache nor pain.'
"Then he went back into mother's room, and I stayed outside and thought. After a time I resolved to come to you. No one knows that I am here."
"What have you come for, Catherine?" asked Beatrice.
"I have come to know what you mean to do. When you see Loftus to-morrow what will you say to him?"
"What would you say, Catherine? If you did not love a man at all, if he was absolutely nothing to you, would you give yourself to him? Yourself? That means all your life, all your days, your young days, your middle-aged years, your old age, always, till death parts you. Would you do that, Catherine? Speak for yourself; would you?"
"How old are you, Beatrice?" asked Catherine.