"Ah, my dear! Pray, don't laugh, Catherine. What _would_ become of us all?" "Why, what would become of you all?" "I'm sure I don't wish to be selfish. I should hate myself if I were. But what _could_ we do without Lettice? Dear Catherine! only think of it. And that would not be the worst. They could not marry--for they would have nothing to live upon if they left us--so they would both be miserable. For they _could_ neither go nor stay. It would be impossible for them to go on living together here, if they were attached to each other and could never be married. And so miserable as they would be, Catherine, it makes me wretched to think of it." "Ah! dear, sweet mother, don't take up wretchedness at interest--that's my own mother. They're not going to fall in love. Mr. St. Leger looks not the least inclined that way." "Ah, that's easily said, but suppose they _did_?" "Well, suppose they did. I see no great harm in it; may I confess to you, mother, for my part, I should be secretly quite glad of it." "Oh, Catherine! how _can_ you talk so? What would be _done_?" "Done! Why, let them marry to be sure, and live on here." "Live on here! Who on earth ever heard of such a scheme! Dearest child, you are too romantic. You are almost absurd, my sweet Catherine--forgive your poor mother for saying so." "No, that I won't," kissing her with that playful tenderness which so well became her, "that I won't, naughty mamma. Because, do you know, you say the most unjust thing in the world when you call me romantic. Why, only ask papa, ask Edgar, ask Mrs. Danvers, ask any body, if I am not common-sense personified." "If I asked your papa, my dear girl, he would only say you had a way of persuading one into any thing, even into believing you had more head than heart, my own darling," said the fond mother, her pale cheek glowing, and those soft eyes swimming in delight, as she looked upon her daughter. "That's right; and now you have acknowledged so much, my blessed mother, I am going to sit down by you, and seriously to give you my well weighed opinions upon this most weighty matter." So Catherine drew a low stool, and sat too down by her mother's knee, and threw her arm over her lap, and looked up in her face and began her discourse.