"Perhaps if the door of every heart were opened to us we should see more good in all than we could expect." A few words more brought them to the boatman's house, where they parted.
Miss Trant was at home, Mrs. Norris said. Katherine ascended the steep ladder-like stair, and having knocked at the door, entered the room. Rachel was seated in the window, which was wide open. Her elbows rested on a small table, and her chin on her clasped hands, while her large blue eyes looked steadily out over the bay, which slept blue and peaceful below; the lines of her slightly bent figure looked graceful and refined, but there was infinite sadness in her pose.
"I am very glad to see you again," said Katherine. Rachel, who was too deep in thought to hear her enter, started up to clasp her offered hand. Her pale thin face was lit with pleasure, and her grave, almost stern eyes softened.
"And so am I. You do not know how glad. Do you know, I began to think I never should see you again," and she kissed the hand she held.
"Do not!" said Katherine, bending forward to kiss her brow. "Were you so ill, then?"
"Not physically ill, except for my cough; but for all that I felt dying, and really I often wonder why you try to keep me alive. I am a trouble to you, and I do very little good. Had I not been a coward I should have left the world, where I have no particular place, long ago."
"Well, you see, I have a sort of superstition that life is a goodly gift which must not be cast aside for a whim; and why should you despair of finding peace? There is so much that is delightful in life!"
"And so much that is tragic!"
"Ah, yes! but if we only seek for the sorrowful we destroy our own lives, without helping any one. You must let the dead past bury its dead."
"How if the dead past comes and crosses your path, and looks you in the face?"