"I confess I don't understand you," she said. "I can't love one side of
a person, and hate the other side; I don't know that I love or hate
anybody very much. It's more comfortable not to do things very much,
isn't it, Kitty?"

"I suppose so," replied Catherine, "but I can't say. That isn't my
fashion. I do everything very much. I love, I hate, I joy or sorrow, all
in extremes. Perhaps it isn't a good way, but it's the only way I've
got. Now let us talk about Loftus. I wonder if he is going to stay long,
and if he will make himself pleasant."

"No fear of that," responded Mabel. "He'll be as selfish and exacting as
ever he can be. He'll keep mother in a state of fret, and you in a state
of excitement, and he'll insist on smoking a cigarette close to the new
cretonne curtains in the drawing-room, and he'll make me go out in the
hot part of the day to gather fresh strawberries for him. Oh, I do think
brothers are worries! I wish he wasn't coming. We are very peaceful and
snug here. And mother's face doesn't looked harassed as it often did
when we were in town. I do wish Loftus wasn't coming to upset
everything. It was he turned us away from our nice, sprightly, jolly
London, and now, surely he need not follow us into the country. Yes,
Catherine, what words of wisdom or reproof are going to drop from your
lips?"

"Not any," replied Catherine. "I can't make blind people see, and I
can't bring love when there is no love to bring. Of course, it is
different for me."

"How is it different for you?"