What need had she either for secret meetings? What mattered it to
her pure and innocent heart that she was not permitted to be alone
with him? Still she might see him, and drink courage and delight
from the sight of his haughty and handsome face; still she might be
near him, and could listen to the music of his voice, and intoxicate
her heart with his fine, euphonious and vigorous discourse.
Catharine, the woman of eight-and-twenty, had preserved the
enthusiasm and innocence of a young girl of fourteen. Thomas Seymour
was her first love; and she loved him with that purity and guileless
warmth which is indeed peculiar to the first love only.
It sufficed her, therefore, to see him; to be near him; to know that
he loved her; that he was true to her; that all his thoughts and
wishes belonged to her, as hers to him.
And that she knew. For there ever remained to her the sweet
enjoyment of his letters--of those passionately written avowals of
his love. If she was not permitted to say also to him how warmly and
ardently she returned this love, yet she could write it to him.
It was John Heywood, the true and discreet friend, that brought her
these letters, and bore her answers to him, stipulating, as a reward
for this dangerous commission, that they both should regard him as
the sole confidant of their love; that both should burn up the
letters which he brought them. He had not been able to hinder
Catharine from this unhappy passion, but wanted at least to preserve
her from the fatal consequences of it.
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