She knew that the house from which the light was shining sheltered a tragedy; she guessed with the vagueness of nineteen that it was a tragedy of passion and sin; but Catherine had not been communicative on the subject, and Rose had for some time past set up a dumb resistance to her sister's most characteristic ways of life and thought, which prevented her now from asking questions.

She wished nervously to give Catherine's extraordinary moral strength no greater advantage over her than she could help.
Presently, however, Catherine threw her arm round her with a tender protectingness.
'What did you do with yourself all the afternoon, Roeschen ?' 'I practised for two hours,' said the girl shortly, 'and two hours this morning.

My Spohr is nearly perfect.' 'And you didn't look into the school ?' asked Catherine, hesitating; 'I know Miss Merry expected you.' 'No, I didn't.

When one can play the violin and can't teach, any more than a cuckatoo, what's the good of wasting one's time in teaching ?' Catherine did not reply.

A minute after Mrs.Leyburn called her, and she went to sit on a stool at her mother's feet, her hands resting on the elder woman's lap, the whole attitude of the tall active figure one of beautiful and childlike abandonment.