A Crooked Path Part 54

"Oh, I was by myself! I don't want _any_ one to take care of me," said Cecil, proudly.

"Good heavens! do you let the child walk about alone?" cried Mrs.

Ormonde, with an air of surprise and indignation.

"Run away to Miss North," said Katherine, and as Cecil left the room she replied: "As Cecil is nine years old, Ada, and a very bright boy, I think he may very well be let to take care of himself. The school is not far, and he cannot learn independence too soon."

"Perhaps so. But of course you know better than I do. You were always more learned, and all that; besides, you are not over anxious, as a mother would be."

"Nor careless either," said Katherine thinking of the nights at Castleford when she used to steal to the bedside, of little feverish, restless Charlie, while his mother kept within the bounds of her own luxurious chamber.

"No, no; certainly not," returned Mrs. Ormonde, remembering it was as well not to offend so strong a person as she felt Katherine to be. "Only Cecil is a tiresome, self-willed boy, and very likely to get into mischief."

"If you wish it, Ada, I shall, of course, have him escorted to and fro to school."

"Oh, just as you like. I suppose you know the place better than I do."

"Colonel Ormonde has never come down to see me," resumed Katherine, after a pause. "You must tell him I am quite hurt."

"Well, dear, you must know that Duke is rather vexed with you."

"Vexed with me! Why?" asked Katherine, opening her eyes.

"You see, he thinks you ought to have come to us for a while; and then De Burgh came back from this last time in such a bad temper that my husband thought you were not behaving well to him--making a fool of him, in short; inviting him down here to amuse yourself, and then refusing him, if you _did_ refuse."

"No, I did not; for Mr. De Burgh never gave me an opportunity," cried Katherine, indignantly. "Nor did I ever ask him here. I cannot prevent his coming and lodging at the hotel. I am quite ready to talk to him, because he amuses me, but I am not bound to marry every man who does.

Tell Colonel Ormonde so, with my compliments."

"I am sure _I_ don't want you to marry De Burgh! Indeed, I am surprised at Duke; but you see, being chums and relations (and men stick together so), that he only thinks of De Burgh, who, _entre nous_, has been awfully fast. He _is_ amusing, and very _distingue_, but I am afraid he only cares for your money, dear."

"Very likely," returned Katherine, with much composure.

"Then another reason why the Colonel does not care to come down is that he has a great dislike to that Miss Payne. _She_ is really hostess here, and it worries Duke to have to be civil to her."

"Why?" asked Katherine. "I can imagine her being an object of perfect indifference; but dislike--no!"

"Well, dear, men never like that sort of women;--people, you know, who eke out their living by--doing things, when they are plain and old.

Handsome adventuresses are quite another affair--they are amusing and attractive."

"How absurd and unreasonable!"

"Yes, of course; they are all like that. Then he thinks Miss Payne has a bad and dangerous influence on you. He disapproves of your living on with her, for you don't take the position you ought, and--"

Katherine laughed good-humoredly as Mrs. Ormonde paused, not knowing very well how to finish her speech. "Colonel Ormonde will hide the light of his countenance from me, then, I am afraid, for a long time; for I like Miss Payne, and I am going to stay with her for the period agreed upon; and I will _not_ marry Mr. De Burgh, nor will I let him ask me to do so, for there is a degree of honesty about him which I like. You may repeat all this to your husband, Ada, and add that but for a lucky chance his wife and myself would have been among the sort of women who eke out their living by doing things. I don't think I should be afraid of attempting self-support if all my money were swept away."

"Don't talk of such a thing!" cried Mrs. Ormonde, turning pale. "Thank G.o.d what you have settled on the boys is safe!"

Katherine's half-contemptuous good humor carried her serenely through this rather irritating visit, but the totally different train of thought which it evoked a.s.sisted her to recover her ordinary mental tone. It was, however, touched by a minor key of sadness, of humility (save when roused by any moving cause to indignation), which gave the charm of soft pensiveness to her manner.

Mrs. Ormonde was rather in a hurry to go back to town, as she had important interviews impending with milliner and dressmaker prior to a visit to Lady Mary Vincent at Cowes, from which she expected the most brilliant results, for the little woman's social ambition grew with what it fed upon. Nor did the rational repose of Katherine's life suit her.

Books, music, out-door existence, were a weariness, and in spite of her loudly declared affection for her sister-in-law she found a curious restraint in conversing with her.

They parted, therefore, with many kind expressions and much satisfaction.

"I will write you an account of all our doings at Cowes. I expect it will be very gay and pleasant there. How I wish you were to be of the party, instead of moping here!" said Mrs. Ormonde.

"Thank you. I should like it all, no doubt, but not just now. I will keep you informed of our small doings."

So Mrs. Ormonde steamed on her way rejoicing, and Katherine re-entered a pretty low pony-carriage in which she drove a pair of quiet, well-broken ponies, selected for her by Bertie Payne, whose conversion had not obliterated his carnal knowledge of horseflesh. A small groom always accompanied her, for though improved by the practice of driving, she did not like to be alone with her steeds.

She had nearly reached the chief street of Sandbourne, when a tall gentleman in yachting dress strolled slowly round the corner of a lane which led to the beach. He paused and raised his hat. She recognized De Burgh and drew up.

"And so you are driving in capital style," was his greeting; "all by yourself, too. Will you give me a lift back?"

"Certainly. Where have you come from?"

"Melford's yacht. I escorted my revered relative, old De Burgh, down to Cowes. He has a little villa there. As he has grown quite civil of late, I think it right to encourage him. Melford was there, and invited me to take a short cruise. So I made him land me here just now. The yacht is still in the offing. Lady Alice was on board."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Katherine, with much interest. "How is she?"

"So far as one can judge from the exterior, remarkably well, and exactly the same as ever. It is rather funny, but they had Renshaw on board too, the son of the big brewer who has bought, or is going to buy, Errington's house in Berkeley Square. I fancy it is not impossible he may come in for Errington's ex-_fiancee_ as well as his ex-residence."

"It cannot be, surely!" cried Katherine, flushing with a curious feeling.

"Why not? I don't say immediately. I have no doubt everything will be done decently and in order."

"Well, it is incomprehensible."

"Not to me. What can--(Make that little brute on the off side keep up to the collar. You want a few lessons from me still.) What can a girl like Lady Alice do? She is an earl's daughter. She cannot dig; to beg she is ashamed; she must therefore take to herself a husband from the mammon of unaristocratic money-grubbers."

"I should like to meet her again--poor Lady Alice!" said Katherine, more to herself than to her companion.

"I think you are wasting your commiseration," he returned. "She seems quite happy."

"She may be successful in hiding her feelings."

De Burgh laughed. "Tell me," he asked, "do you really think Errington is the sort of fellow women break their hearts about?"

"I cannot tell. He seems to me very good and very nice."

"That is a goody-goody description. Well done!"--as Katherine guided her ponies successfully through the gate of her abode and turned them round the gravel sweep. "I must say you have a pretty little nook here."

"Had you arrived an hour sooner you would have seen Mrs. Ormonde. I have just seen her off by the 12.30 train. She has been paying us a farewell visit, and is gone to Lady Mary Vincent."

"Indeed! She will have her cup of pleasure running over there; they live in a flutter of gayety all day long."

Here De Burgh sprang to the ground and a.s.sisted Katherine to alight.

"Will you lunch with us?" she asked, an additional tinge of color mounting to her cheek; for she knew De Burgh was no favorite of Miss Payne, who was no doubt rejoicing at the prospect of repose and deliverance from their late guest, who generally managed to rub her hostess the wrong way.