Katherine was not kept long waiting in the neat little back parlor, which was Miss Trant's private room. Rachel came to her looking very white, while she breathed quickly. She paused just within the door, in a hesitating, uncertain way, which seemed to Katherine very pathetic.
"Oh! Rachel," she cried, her soft brown eyes suffused with tears as she tenderly kissed her brow, "I know everything, and—I will never see him again."
"He is not all bad," said Rachel, in a low tone, as she clasped Katherine's hand in both her own.
"No, I am sure he is not; but he has passed out of our lives; let us speak of him no more."
"I should be glad not to do so; but he has written me a letter I should like you to see. He seems grieved for the past and makes munificent offers."
"I should rather not see it, Rachel. I want to forget. Did you reply?"
"I did, very gravely, very shortly. I told him I wanted nothing, that the best friend I ever had had put me in the way perhaps to make my fortune, and—and, dearest Miss Liddell, if you care for——"
"But I do not, I did not," interrupted Katherine. "Oh! thank God I do not. How could I have borne what has come to my knowledge if I did? Now, let the past bury its dead."
"Is it not amazing that we should be so strangely linked together?" murmured Rachel.
Katherine made no reply. After a short silence, as if they stood by a still open grave, Katherine began to speak of her intended visit to Miss Payne, and before they parted, though both were hushed and grave, they had glided into their usual confidential, affectionate tone. Business, however, was not mentioned.