She had always loved everything that was ailing and weakly.
Her hand rested on Bernardine's hand.

Bernardine pressed it in kindly sympathy, thinking the while of the girl's past happiness and present bereavement.
"Liza is betrothed," she said, as though to herself.

"They don't tell me; but I know.

I was betrothed once." She went on knitting.

And that was all she said of herself.
Then after a pause she said: "Fraeulein is betrothed ?" Bernardine smiled, and shook her head, and Catharina made no further inquiries.