The girl laughed.  Her laugh was almost cheerful, it was also young and silvery.

“You ask me a lot of questions,” she said.  “I’ll answer them one by one, and the least important first.  How I know your name is my own secret; I can’t tell that without telling also what would crush you.  But I may as well say that I know all about you.  I know your appearance, and your age, and even a little bit about your character; and I know you have a younger sister called Mabel, and that she is not so pretty as you, and has not half the character, and in short that you are worth two of her.

“Then you have a brother.  His name is Loftus.  He is like you, only he is not so fearless.  He is in the army.  He is rather extravagant, and your mother is afraid of him.  Ah, yes, I know all about you and yours; and I know so much in especial about that proud lady, your mother, that if there were daylight, and I had pencil and paper, I could draw a portrait of her for you.  There, have I not answered your first question?  Now you want to know why I don’t go away.  If you had no money in your purse, and if you had walked between twenty and thirty miles to effect an object of the greatest possible importance to yourself, would you give it up at the bidding of a young girl?  Would you now?”

“You are very queer,” said Catherine; “I fail to understand you.  I don’t know how you have got your extraordinary knowledge about us.  You talk like a lady, but ladies don’t starve with hunger, nor walk until they are travel-sore and spent.  Ladies don’t hide at midnight in shrubberies, in private grounds that don’t belong to them.  Then you say you have no money, and yet you gave Tester a shilling.”

“I gave him my last shilling.  Here is my empty purse.  Look at it.”

“Well, you are very, very queer.  You have not even told me your name.”

“Josephine.  I am called Josephine.”

“But you have another name.  I am called Catherine, but I am also Bertram.  What are you besides Josephine?”

“Ah, that’s trenching into the darkness where you wouldn’t like to find yourself.  That’s light for me, but dark ruin for you.  Don’t ask me what my other name is.”

“Listen,” said Catherine, suddenly, “you want to see my mother?”

“Yes, I certainly want to see her.”

“Listen again.  I am absolutely determined that you shall not see her.”

“But I have a message for her.”

“You shall not see her.  My mother is not well.  I stand between my mother and trouble.  I know you are going to bring her trouble; and you shall not see her.”

“How can you prevent me?”

“In this way.  My mother is away from home.  I will take care that she does not return until you have left this place.  I am determined.”

“Is that true?” asked the girl.  “Is she really away from home?”

“Am I likely to tell you a lie?  My mother is from home.”