"Are you of the same mind still?" Helen asked, when, three weeks later, she returned from New York, and at the hour for retiring sat in her chamber watching Katy as she brushed her wavy hair, occasionally curling a tress around her fingers and letting it fall upon her snowy nightdress.
They had been talking of Morris, whom Katy had only seen once since that rainy night, and that at church, where he had come the previous Sunday. Katy had written an account of the transaction to her sister, who had chosen to reply by word of mouth rather than by letter, and so the first moment they were alone she seized the opportunity to ask if Katy was of the same mind still as when she refused the doctor.
"Yes; why shouldn't I be?" Katy replied. "You better than any one else knew what passed between Wilford and me concerning Morris, and you can--"
"Do you love Morris?" Helen asked, abruptly, without waiting for Katy to finish her sentence.
For an instant the hands stopped in their work, and Katy's eyes filled with tears, which dropped into her lap as she replied: "More than I wish I did, seeing I must always tell him no. It's strange, too, how the love for him keeps coming in spite of all I can do. I have not been there since, nor spoken with him until last Sunday, but though I did not know he was coming, I knew the moment he entered the church, and when in the first chant I heard his voice, my fingers trembled so that I could scarcely play, while all the time my heart goes out after the rest I always find with him. But it cannot be."
"Suppose Morris had asked you first, what then?" was Helen's next straightforward question, and Katy, who had no secrets from her sister, answered: "It might have been, perhaps, though I never thought of it then. Oh, Helen, I wish Wilford had never known that Morris loved me."
She was sobbing now, with her head in Helen's lap, and Helen, smoothing her bright hair, said, gently: "You have taken a morbid fancy, Katy. You do not reason correctly. It is right for you to answer Morris yes, and Wilford would say so, too. When I received your letter apprising me of the refusal, I read it to Bell, who said she was so sorry, and then told what Wilford said before he died. You must have forgotten it, darling. He referred to a time when you would cease to be his widow, and he said he was willing, said so to her, and you. Do you remember it, Katy?"