"Poor little Katy!" Marian said, caressing her golden hair. "Your husband, they tell me, is dead."
"Yes," and Katy lifted up her head, and fixing her eves earnestly upon Marian, continued: "Wilford is dead, but before he died he left a message for Genevra Lambert. Will she hear it now?"
With a sudden start, Marian sprang to her feet, and holding Katy from her, demanded: "Who told you of Genevra Lambert, and when?"
"Wilford told me months ago, showing me her picture, which I readily recognized," was Katy's answer, and a flush of fear and shame came to Marian's cheek as she continued:
"Did he tell you all? And do you hate me as a vile, polluted creature?"
"Hate you, Marian? No. I have pitied you so much, knowing you were innocent. Wilford told me all, but he thought you were dead," Katy said, flinching a little before Marian's burning gaze, which fascinated even, while it startled her.
It is not often two women meet bearing to each other the relations these two bore, and it is not strange that both felt constrained and embarrassed as they stood looking at each other. As Marian's was the stronger nature, so she was the first to rally, and with the tears swimming in her eyes she drew Katy closely to her, and said:
"Now that he is gone I am glad you know it. Mine has been a sad, sad life, but God has helped me bear it. You say he believed me dead. Some time I will tell you how that came about; but now, his message—he left one, you say?"
Carefully Katy repeated every word Wilford had said, and with a gasping cry Marian wound her arms around her neck, exclaiming:
"And you will love me, not because he did once, but because I have suffered so much? You will let me call you Katy when we are alone? It brings you nearer to me."