Could she do it?  Lying there in the mean little room, with the grey twilight showing outside the open window, she told herself ‘No’:  she could not do it, she could not stand aside and give up to another what she wanted so badly for herself.  But, as the slow hours stole by, a different mood crept over her.  She thought of the Saviour of the world, and the sacrifices he had made for man; then prayed for grace to tread the thorny path of self-immolation, if such action should be required of her.

She dared not rise to kneel and pray, the little bedroom was too crowded for privacy; and although she often yearned for a room, however small, to have for her sole use, this was not possible.  Folding her hands on her breast, she prayed for strength to do what was right, for guidance in the way she had to go, and wisdom to see the true from the false.  Then, because her day’s work had made her so very tired, she fell asleep, and presently began to dream that she was at the marriage of Mary Selincourt with Jervis Ferrars, and that it was her place to give away the bride.  She was doing her part, as she believed, faithfully and well, although the dragging pain at her heart was almost more than she could endure, and the part of the marriage service had been reached where the ring should have been put on Mary’s hand, when, to her amazement, she found it was on her own finger.

“Katherine, Katherine, how soundly you sleep, dear!  Wake up, we are quite late this morning!” said Mrs. Burton, and Katherine opened her tired, heavy eyes to find that Beth and Lotta were enjoying a lively pillow fight on the other bed, and that their mother was already half-dressed.

For one moment she lay weakly wishing that she had not to rise to work, to struggle, and to endure; but the next minute found her out of bed and thrusting her face into a basin of cold water, which is, after all, the very best way of gathering up a little courage.

When she was dressed and out in the fresh air things did not look so bad.  Mrs. Burton might have been quite mistaken in thinking that Mary cared for Jervis Ferrars.  In the broad light of the sunshiny morning the very idea seemed absurd.  The rich man’s daughter had a wide circle to choose from; it was scarcely likely that her choice would fall on a poor man, whose position was little removed from that of a Hudson Bay fisherman.

Of course it was absurd!  Mrs. Burton must have had a sentimental streak on last night, and she herself was uncommonly foolish to have been made so miserable for nothing at all.

When Katherine reached this point in her musings her laughter rang out again, the future brightened up, and she was ready to face anything the day might bring.  Happiness is such a great factor in one’s life; and when that is secured it is easy to make light of the ordinary ills, troubles, cares, and vexations which are sure to crop up even in the smoothest kind of existence.  But she meant to watch very closely for some sign which might guide her in gaining an insight into Mary’s heart.  She must make absolutely certain that Mrs. Burton was wrong.  It was not easy to see just how she would be able to do this; but it must be done, of course it must be done!