. . " and she turned away.
Catherine watched her a moment in silence; then she hurried after
her, stopping her before she reached the door. "Told me what? What
do you mean? What are you hinting at and threatening me with?"
"Isn't it broken off?" asked Mrs. Penniman.
"My engagement? Not in the least!"
"I beg your pardon in that case. I have spoken too soon!"
"Too soon! Soon or late," Catherine broke out, "you speak foolishly
and cruelly!"
"What has happened between you, then?" asked her aunt, struck by the
sincerity of this cry. "For something certainly has happened."
"Nothing has happened but that I love him more and more!"
Mrs. Penniman was silent an instant. "I suppose that's the reason
you went to see him this afternoon."
Catherine flushed as if she had been struck. "Yes, I did go to see
him! But that's my own business."
"Very well, then; we won't talk about it." And Mrs. Penniman moved
towards the door again. But she was stopped by a sudden imploring
cry from the girl.
"Aunt Lavinia, WHERE has he gone?"
"Ah, you admit, then, that he has gone away? Didn't they know at his
house?"
"They said he had left town. I asked no more questions; I was
ashamed," said Catherine, simply enough.
"You needn't have taken so compromising a step if you had had a
little more confidence in me," Mrs. Penniman observed, with a good
deal of grandeur.
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