"Yes," she murmured. "I—might—tell—him—William Foster."
She slept heavily.
"Mark," Catherine said to her husband the next day. "Mother is dying. She can only live a very few days."
"Oh, Kitty! How grieved I am!"
His face was full of the most tender sympathy. He took her hand gently and kissed her.
"My Kitty, how will you bear this great sorrow?"
"Mark," Catherine said, and her voice sounded curiously strained. "Mother wants very much to see you, before she dies. She has something to say to you. I think she cares more about seeing you than about anything else in the world."
Mark looked surprised.
"I will go to her at once," he said. "What can it be? Ah, it must be something about you."
"No, I don't think so."