"I suppose I am doing a strange thing"—her manner faltered a little—"but it seems to me right—I have been led—else why was it so plain?"
She raised her clear eyes, and he understood that she spoke of those "hints" and "voices" of the soul that play so large a part in the more mystical Christian experience. She hurried on:
"When two people—two people like you and Mary—feel such a deep interest in each other—surely it is God's sign." Then, suddenly, the tears shone. "Oh, Mr. Meynell!—trial brings us nearer to our Saviour. Perhaps—through it—you and Mary—will find Him!"
He saw that she was trembling from head to foot; and his own emotion was great.
He took her hand again, and held it in both his own.
"Do you imagine," he said huskily "that you and I are very far apart?"
And again the tenderness of his manner was a son's tenderness.
She shook her head, but she could not speak. She gently withdrew her hand, and turned aside to gather up some letters on the table.
A sound of footsteps could be heard outside. Catharine moved to the window.
"It is Mary," she said quietly. "Will you wait a little while I meet her?" And without giving him time to reply, she left the room.