"'God and the saints have you in his holy keeping, and bless you by night and by day. Your one harsh deed is forgotten; your years of love remembered.'" Catherine laid her hand on her bosom, and sank back in her chair with one long sob. "Then comes this, madam. It doth speak for itself; 'a long farewell.'" "Ay, go on: bless you, girl; you give me sorry comfort. Still 'tis comfort." "'To my brothers Cornelis and Sybrandt:--Be content; you will see me no more!'" "What does that mean? Ah." "'To my sister Kate. Little angel of my father's house. Be kind to _her_--' Ah!" "That is Margaret Brandt, my dear,--his sweetheart, poor soul. I've not been kind to her, my dear. Forgive me, Gerard!" "'--for poor Gerard's sake: since grief to her is death--to--me----' Ah!" And nature, resenting the poor girl's struggle for unnatural composure, suddenly gave way, and she sank from her chair and lay insensible, with the letter in her hand, and her head on Catherine's knees. CHAPTER XLV EXPERIENCED women are not frightened when a woman faints, nor do they hastily attribute it to anything but physical causes, which they have often seen produce it. Catherine bustled about; laid the girl down with her head on the floor quite flat, opened the window, and unloosed her dress as she lay. Not till she had done all this did she step to the door and say, rather loudly: "Come here, if you please." Margaret Van Eyck and Reicht came and found Margaret lying quite flat, and Catherine beating her hands. "Oh, my poor girl! What have you done to her?" "Me?" said Catherine, angrily. "What has happened, then?" "Nothing, madam; nothing more than is natural in her situation." Margaret Van Eyck coloured with ire. "You do well to speak so coolly," said she, "you that are the cause of her situation." "That I am not," said Catherine, bluntly, "nor any woman born." "What? was it not you and your husband that kept them apart: and now he is gone to Italy all alone. Situation indeed? You have broken her heart amongst you." "Why, madam? Who is it then? in Heaven's name? to hear you one would think this was my Gerard's lass. But that can't be. This fur never cost less than five crowns the ell; besides, this young gentlewoman is a wife; or ought to be." "Of course she ought. And who is the cause she is none? Who came between them at the very altar?" "God forgive them, whoever it was," said Catherine, gravely: "me it was not, nor my man." "Well," said the other, a little softened, "now you have seen her perhaps you will not be quite so bitter against her, madam. She is coming to, thank Heaven." "Me bitter against her?" said Catherine: "no; that is all over. Poor soul! trouble behind her and trouble afore her; and to think of my setting her, of all living women, to read Gerard's letter to me. Ay, and that was what made her go off, I'll be sworn. She is coming to. What, sweetheart? be not afeard, none are here but friends."