"That will be pleasant for you," kindly, wondering to herself what
sort of a ruffian had chosen this creature for a mate and had the
burden of her to carry.

"Yes, I know his step," turning dully to the door. It opened, and Hugh
Guinness stood on the threshold.

He halted one brief moment. It seemed to Catharine that he was an
older man than she had known him.

"It is you, then, Louise?" he said calmly, going up to the bed and
looking down on her, his hands clasped, as usual, behind him.

"Yes, it is I. I thought you would like to see me and talk things over
before I died, Hugh." She held out her hand, but he did not touch it.
Looking at her a moment from head to foot as she lay in her unclean
garments, he turned to where the other woman stood, a ray of light
from the window shining on her fair hair and innocent face: "Do you
know that I am Hugh Guinness, Kitty?"

"I knew that long ago."

"_This_," nodding down at the pallet, "is my wife. Now do you know why
I could not go home to my father or to you?"

"God help us!" ejaculated Pollard. The next moment, remembering
himself, he put his hand on McCall's shoulder: "I understand. When you
were a boy, eh? Never mind: every man has his own trouble to carry."