Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. “I suppose you know I like you tremendously?” he pursued. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. Not my affair, of course, but I think we ought to teach them more or restrain them more. Let—it—fall. Cathy had not even noticed that she herself was wet and trailing water everywhere. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths.
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