no affectation of the belief that she had been maligned—to learn what she desired.
"What did you say you would tell me?" she asked.
Mrs. Penniman came up to her, smiling and nodding a little, looked at her all over, and gave a twist to the knot of ribbon in her neck. "It's a great secret, my dear child; but he is coming a-courting!"
Catherine was serious still. "Is that what he told you!"
"He didn't say so exactly. But he left me to guess it. I'm a good guesser."
"Do you mean a-courting me?"
"Not me, certainly, miss; though I must say he is a hundred times more polite to a person who has no longer extreme youth to recommend her than most of the young men. He is thinking of some one else." And Mrs. Penniman gave her niece a delicate little kiss. "You must be very gracious to him."
Catherine stared—she was bewildered. "I don't understand you," she said; "he doesn't know me."
