At last Loftus beckoned me out of the room.
"'What is it, Loftus, what is wrong ?" I asked.
"'Poor mother,' he replied; 'she loves Beatrice, and she had set her heart on this.

Her nerves are a good deal shaken lately.

Poor mother! she has had a more troubled life than you can guess about, Catherine.' "'Loftie,' I answered, 'I have long guessed, I have long feared.' "'If I could win Beatrice,' said Loftus, 'my mother should never have another ache nor pain.' "Then he went back into mother's room, and I stayed outside and thought.
After a time I resolved to come to you.

No one knows that I am here." "What have you come for, Catherine ?" asked Beatrice.
"I have come to know what you mean to do.

When you see Loftus to-morrow what will you say to him ?" "What would you say, Catherine?
If you did not love a man at all, if he was absolutely nothing to you, would you give yourself to him?
Yourself?
That means all your life, all your days, your young days, your middle-aged years, your old age, always, till death parts you.