There were perceptible spots on Marian's neck, and her lips were very white, while her hands grasped the bundles tossed into her lap--the yards and yards of lace and embroidery, linen, and cambric, which she was expected to make for the wife of Wilford Cameron; and her voice was husky as she asked directions or made suggestions of her own.
"It's because she has no such joy in expectation. I should feel so, too, if I were thirty and unmarried," Katy thought, as she noticed Marian's agitation, and tried to divert her mind by telling her as delicately as possible that she had brought with her sundry stores of which she had such an abundance.
"I knew you were not an object of charity," she said, as she saw the flush on Marian's brow, "but when I have so much I like to share it with others, and you seem like our folks."
"Did Wilf--did Mr. Cameron know?" Marian asked, and Katy answered "No; but it does not matter. He lets me do as I like in these matters, and the greatest pleasure I have is giving. You are not offended?" she continued, as she saw a tear drop from Marian's eyelids.
"No--oh, no," and Marian quietly laid aside the packages which would find their way to many an humble garret or cellar, where biting poverty had its abode.
It would choke her to eat whatever came from Wilford Cameron, but she could not tell Katy so, though she did say: "I will keep these because you brought them, but do not do so again. There are many far more needy. I saved something in Silverton. I shall not suffer so long as my health is spared."
Then after a few more inquiries concerning the work, about which she could now talk calmly, she asked where Katy went when she was abroad, her blue eyes growing almost black as Katy talked of Rome, of Venice, of Paris, and then of Alnwick, where they had stopped so long.
"By the way, you were born in England? Were you ever at Alnwick?" Katy asked, and Marian replied: "Once, yes. I've seen the castle and the church. Did you go there--to St. Mary's, I mean?"
"Oh, yes, and I was never tired of that old churchyard, Wilford liked it, too, and we wandered by the hour among the sunken graves and quaint headstones."
"Do you remember any of the names upon the stones? Perhaps I may know them?" Marian asked; but Katy did not remember any, or if she did, it was not "Genevra Lambert, aged twenty-two." And so Marian asked her no more questions concerning St. Mary's, at Alnwick, but talked instead of London and other places, until three hours went by, and down in the street the coachman chafed and fretted at the long delay, wandering what kept his mistress in that neighborhood so long. Had she friends, or had she come on some errand of mercy? The latter most likely, he concluded, and so his face was not quite so cross when Katy at last appeared, looking at her watch and exclaiming at the lateness of the hour. But when, as they turned into the avenue, Katy called to him to stop, bidding him drive back, as she had forgotten something, he showed unmistakable signs of irritation, but nevertheless obeyed, and Katy was soon mounting a second time to the fourth story of No. ----, where Marian Hazelton knelt upon the floor, her head resting upon the costly fabrics and her frame quivering with the anguish of the sobs which reached Katy's ear even before she opened the unbolted door.