The words brought back the memory of another day, when the winter snows lay deep upon the ground, and a man's voice, dangerously tender, said the same thing.
"There's nothing wrong, Bee—don't, oh, don't think that of me!"
"I couldn't, dear—no one could!"
The curtains were drawn and the house was dark and comparatively cool. Within that soothing shadow, Katherine gathered courage to face the girl, and, little by little, hint at the tempest raging in her soul.
It was the old, common story of a proud woman with a hungry heart, denied love and sympathy where she had a right to expect it, and tempted unwillingly, but tempted none the less.
"Men are beasts!" exclaimed Beatrice, angrily.
"Don't say that, Bee! Ralph has a great deal to bother him, but I can't help wishing he were different. If he were only as he used to be! If I knew, or even thought he loved me—if he would try to understand me—if he wouldn't always misjudge me—but now——"
"You're brave enough to fight it out and win, Kit—I know you are!"
"I hope so; but what hurts me most is the fear that he—that he knows—that I—that I care—and pities me!"