she likes; I'll submit to anything.
Will you ask Catherine to let me see Kitty?"

"I can't do it."

"Why not?"

"For private reasons."

"What reasons?"

"For reasons into which you have no right to inquire."

He got up from his chair. His face presented the same expression which
Mrs. Presty had seen on it when he first entered the room.

"When I came in here," he said, "I wished to be certain of one thing.
Your prevarication has told me what I wanted to know. The newspapers
had Catherine's own authority for it, Mrs. Presty, when they called
her widow. I know now why my brother, who never deceived me before, has
deceived me about this. I understand the part that your daughter has
been playing--and I am as certain as if I had heard it, of the devilish
lie that one of you--perhaps both of you--must have told my poor child.
No, no; I had better not see Catherine. Many a man has killed his wife,
and has not had such good reason for doing it as I have. You are quite
right to keep me away from her."

He stopped--and looked suddenly toward the door. "I hear her," he cried,
"She's coming in!"

The footsteps outside were audible once more. This time, they were
approaching; they were close to the door. Herbert drew back from it.
Looking round to see that he was out of the way, Mrs. Presty rushed
forward--tore open the door in terror of what might happen--and admitted
Captain Bennydeck.

Chapter XLIX. Keep the Secret.

The Captain's attention was first attracted by the visitor whom he found
in the room. He bowed to the stranger; but the first impression produced
on him did not appear to have been of the favorable kind, when he turned
next to Mrs. Presty.

Observing that she was agitated, he made the customary apologies,
expressing his regret if he had been so unfortunate as to commit
an intrusion. Trusting in the good sense and good breeding which
distinguished him on other occasions, Mrs. Presty anticipated that he
would see the propriety of leaving her alone again with the person whom
he had found in her company. To her dismay he remained in the room; and,
worse still, he noticed her daughter's absence, and asked if there was
any serious cause for it.

For the moment, Mrs. Presty was unable to reply. Her presence of
mind--or, to put it more correctly, her ready audacity--deserted her,
when she saw Catherine's husband that had been, and Catherine's husband
that was to be, meeting as strangers, and but too