"What matters!" she cried, clasping her hands in supplication; "what matters! only speak to me, drive from me the thoughts which possess me, have pity, or, rather, be pitiless,--accuse me, overwhelm me, tell me I am a thankless, selfish woman, base enough not to have the courage to be grateful," she continued, with increasing excitement, as if a secret long suppressed was now escaping her. "Do not soften your reproaches, for you cannot tell how deeply your resignation wounds me, you cannot tell how I long to find you less generous. For what can be said of a woman who meets a true, discreet friend, and for six months permits him to surround her with the most delicate, most assiduous, and respectful attentions, sees him devote himself to the least whims of her poor, suffering child, and who, one day, in all thanklessness, and for the idlest and most puerile of motives, coldly dismisses this friend? And this is not all. When this woman, in a terrible dilemma, again has need of him,--for she knows he alone can save her child's life,--she forthwith recalls him, well aware that she can demand everything from the self-denial of this brave heart; and he, sacrificing all, instantly returns to draw this child from the very jaws of death!" "Hold, I pray you! Let us not recall these sad memories, let us only think of our present happiness," said I. But Catherine appeared not to hear me, and continued with an ever increasing excitement which alarmed me: "This friend, so good, so noble, has he ever attempted by a single word to speak of his admirable conduct? He has been the protecting genius of this woman and her child when both were suffering; and when he has saved them,--for to save the child is to save the mother,--he goes, proudly, silent, and reserved, happy doubtless in the good he has done, but seeming to fear the thanklessness or disdain the gratitude he has inspired." Catherine's voice was growing more and more broken and gasping. I was almost frenzied by her words, but they seemed to me drawn from her by feverish excitation, and contrasted so forcibly with her habitual reserve that I feared her reason, until now so strong and clear, had yielded to the tardy reaction of the terrible experiences which had shaken her for the past six weeks. "Catherine, Catherine!" I exclaimed. "You are too passionately devoted to your child for me ever to have doubted of your gratitude,--my dearest, most precious reward." Catherine heard my reply, for she alluded to my words as she continued in a still more passionate accent: