Catherine. An' then, lad, when I reached the church corner an' saw your spirit was really there, really called, an' I knew ye'd not live the year out, I was frightened, but uch! lad, I was glad, I was indeed.
Vavasour [looking grave]. Catherine, 'twas a terrible thing to do!
Catherine [meekly]. Yiss, I know it now, but I didn't then. I was hard-hearted, an' I was weak with longin' to escape from it all. An' when I ran home I was frightened, but uch! lad, I was glad, too, an' now it hurts me so to think of it. Can you no comfort me?
Vavasour [grudgingly, but not touching Catherine's outstretched hand]. Aye, well, I could, but, Kats, 'twas such a terrible thing to do!
Catherine. Yiss, yiss, ye'll never be able to forgive me, I'm thinkin'. An' then when ye came in from the lodge, ye spoke so pleasantly to me that I was troubled. An' now the year through it has grown better an' better, an' I could think of nothin' but lovin' ye, an' wishing' ye to live, an' knowin' I was the cause of your bein' called. Uch, lad, can ye forgive me?
Vavasour [slowly]. Aye, I can, none of us is without sin; but, Catherine, it was wrong, aye, aye, 'twas a wicked thing for a woman to do.
Catherine [still more meekly]. An' then to-night, lad, I was expectin' ye to go, knowin' ye couldn't live after twelve, an' ye sittin' there so innocent an' mournful. An' when the time came, I wanted to die myself. Uch!
Vavasour [sitting down beside her and putting an arm about her as he speaks in a superior tone of voice]. No matter, dearie, now. It was wrong in ye, but we're still here, an' it's been a sweet year, yiss, better nor a honeymoon, an' all the years after we'll make better nor this. There, there, Kats, let's have a bit of a wassail to celebrate our Allhallows' honeymoon, shall we?
Catherine [starting to fetch a bowl]. Yiss, lad, 'twould be fine, but, Vavasour, can ye forgive me, think, lad, for hopin', aye, an' prayin' to see your spirit called, just wishin' that ye'd not live the year out?
Vavasour [with condescension]. Kats, I can, an' I'm not layin' it up against ye, though 'twas a wicked thing for ye to do—for anyone to do. Now, darlin', fetch the bowl.