Kitty seated herself at Lucy’s feet, and said, quite regardless of her friend’s astonishment at the ghost-like appearance she made,
“Is there anybody you love?”
“Why, if there were not I should die!”
“Whom do you love?”
“You, dear Kitty.”
“But, is there anybody you shall marry? Do you like any person well enough for that?”
“I truly hope it. ’Twould be forlorn to think otherwise.”
“Now, in Heaven’s name, don’t trifle! Tell me something about yourself, about your past life; if you do not, Lucy, I shall go mad at once.”
Lucy seemed lost in wonder, or in retrospection, as Kitty spoke thus; she did not answer, and the impatient child, unable to bear the silence and suspense, threw herself on her knees, and looked up imploringly, with clasped hands, on the governess; finally, she said, “Lucy Freer, tell me—do you love Eugene? What has made you so sad and pale lately?”
“Do I love him! Yes, heartily—he has been so kind to me!” was the now immediate and energetic reply. “Would you hear of my past, dear Kitty? It is a dreary story.”