CHAPTER IV
Catherine's Resolution
Agatha had been an invalid all her short life. Suffering had made her fretful and terribly nervous, especially of death, which she always imagined to be coming soon to her. She was not at all resigned to her lot, nor anxious to learn resignation, unless to escape the punishment that she feared must be the result of rebellion.
A more unhappy, self-tormenting child could scarcely exist.
Directly Catherine caught sight of the piteous-looking countenance, with its great dark passionate eyes, her heart went out to Agatha.
The little girl was lying flat on a wheel-couch before the fire, with her face turned away from the warmth, towards the door of the room. There were tears on her cheeks; she had been indulging in a stormy fit of crying because she had been, as the colonel had surmised, wearying for the coming of Catherine.
'You might have come to me sooner!'
These were her first words.
Bending to kiss her—a greeting that was warmly returned—Catherine answered: