Catherine wished it would go on, but she herself continued. "I
thought I would tell you that I have not seen him again, but that I
should like to do so."
"To bid him good-bye?" asked the Doctor.
The girl hesitated a moment. "He is not going away."
The Doctor wheeled slowly round in his chair, with a smile that
seemed to accuse her of an epigram; but extremes meet, and Catherine
had not intended one. "It is not to bid him good-bye, then?" her
father said.
"No, father, not that; at least, not for ever. I have not seen him
again, but I should like to see him," Catherine repeated.
The Doctor slowly rubbed his under lip with the feather of his quill.
"Have you written to him?"
"Yes, four times."
"You have not dismissed him, then. Once would have done that."
"No," said Catherine; "I have asked him--asked him to wait."
Her father sat looking at her, and she was afraid he was going to
break out into wrath; his eyes were so fine and cold.
"You are a dear, faithful child," he said at last. "Come here to
your father." And he got up, holding out his hands toward her.
The words were a surprise, and they gave her an exquisite joy. She
went to him, and he put his arm round her tenderly, soothingly; and
then he kissed her. After this he said:
"Do you wish to make me very happy?"
"I should like to--but I am afraid I can't," Catherine answered.
"You can if you will.
Pages:
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142