"Come into the parlour," she said, faintly.
Mr. Catesby, suppressing his surprise, followed her into the room.
Prudence, her fine figure erect and her large eyes meeting his steadily,
took up a position by the side of her mother.
"You have brought bad news?" inquired the latter.
"No, mother," said Mr. Catesby, simply, "only myself, that's all."
Mrs. Truefitt made a gesture of impatience, and her daughter, watching
him closely, tried to remember something she had once read about
detecting insanity by the expression of the eyes. Those of Mr. Catesby
were blue, and the only expression in them at the present moment was one
of tender and respectful admiration.
"When did you see Fred last?" inquired Mrs. Truefitt, making another
effort.
"Mother," said Mr. Catesby, with great pathos, "don't you know me?"
"He has brought bad news of Fred," said Mrs. Truefitt, turning to her
daughter; "I am sure he has."
"I don't understand you," said Mr. Catesby, with a bewildered glance from
one to the other. "I am Fred. Am I much changed? You look the same as
you always did, and it seems only yesterday since I kissed Prudence
good-bye at the docks. You were crying, Prudence."
Miss Truefitt made no reply; she gazed at him unflinchingly and then bent
toward her mother.
"He is mad," she whispered; "we must try and get him out quietly. Don't
contradict him.
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