A Crooked Path Part 80

Why could she not think thus of De Burgh, whose devotion to her was evident, and whom, in spite of herself as it seemed, she was, to a certain degree, encouraging?

She felt unutterably helpless and oppressed. Moreover, she was distressed by the consciousness that the small reserve fund which she had with difficulty preserved, could barely meet unexpected demands such as removing the boys from school, if necessary, an attack of illness, a dozen contingencies, any or all of which were possible, if not imminent.

Such a mood made her feel peculiarly unfit to shine at Mrs. Needham's reception. Still it was better to be obliged to talk and to think about others than to brood perpetually on her own troubles. So she arrayed herself in one of the pretty soft grey demi-toilette dresses which remained among her well-stocked wardrobe, and prepared to a.s.sist her chief in receiving her guests, who soon flocked in so rapidly as to make separate receptions impossible. Miss Bradley came early, arrayed in white silk and lace with diamond stars in her coronet of thickly-plaited red hair. She was looking radiantly well--so well and unusually animated that her aspect struck sudden terror into Katherine's heart; something had gladdened her heart to give that expression of joyous softness to her eyes. But it was weak and contemptible to let this sudden fear overmaster her, so she strove to be amused and interested in the conversation of those she knew, and her acquaintance had increased enormously since she came to reside with Mrs. Needham.

Presently Katherine caught sight of a stately head above the general level of the crowd, and a pair of grave eyes evidently seeking something. Who was Errington looking for? Miss Bradley, of course! As she arrived at this conclusion, De Burgh appeared at the head of the stairs, looking, as he always did, extremely distinguished--his dark strong face showing in remarkable contrast to the simpering young minstrels, pale young poets, and long-haired professors who formed the larger half of the male guests.

"Well, Miss Liddell, are you quite well and flourishing? Why, it is quite three days since I saw you," he asked, and his eyes dwelt on her with a look of utter restful satisfaction--a look that disturbed her.

"Is it, indeed? They seem all rolled into a single disagreeable one to me."

"Tell me all about it," said De Burgh, in a low confidential tone. "Must you stand here in the gangway? it's awfully hot and crowded."

Before she could reply, Errington forced his way through the crowd, and addressed her.

"I began to fear I should not find you, Miss Liddell," he said, with a pleasant smile. "I have been away for some time--though perhaps you were not aware of it."

"I was aware we did not see you as frequently as usual. Where have you been?"

"On a secret and delicate mission which taxed all my diplomatic skill, for I had to deal with an extremely crotchetty Scotchman."

"You make me feel desperately curious," said Katherine, languidly.

"How do you do, Errington?" put in De Burgh. "I heard of you in Edinburgh last week;" and they exchanged a few words. Then, to Katherine's annoyance, De Burgh said, with an air of proprietorship, "I am going to take Miss Liddell out of this mob, to have tea and air, if we can get any. I have to hear news, too," he added, significantly.

Errington grew very grave, and drew back immediately with a slight bow, as if he accepted a dismissal.

There was no help for it, so Katherine took De Burgh's offered arm and went downstairs.

"I wonder what the secret mission could have been?" said Katherine, when they found themselves in the tea-room.

"G.o.d knows! I wonder Errington did not go in for diplomacy when he smashed up. He is just the man for protocols, and solemn mysteries, and all that."

"Men cannot jump into diplomatic appointments, can they?"

"No, I suppose not. I hear some of Errington's political articles have attracted Lord G----'s notice; they say he'll be in Parliament one of these days. Well, he deserves to win, if that sort of thing be worth winning."

"Of course it is. Have you no ambition, Lord de Burgh? Were I a man, I should be very ambitious."

"I have no doubt you would; and if you had a husband you'd drive him up the ladder at the bayonet's point."

"Poor man! I pity him beforehand."

"I don't," returned De Burgh, shortly. "Do you know, I have just been dining with Ormonde and his wife, not as their guest, but at Lady Mary Vincent's. Tell me, hasn't he behaved rather badly to you? I want to know, because I don't want to cut him without reason."

"Pray do not cut him on my account, Lord de Burgh. Colonel Ormonde has very naturally, for a man of his calibre, felt disgusted at my inability to carry out my original arrangements respecting my nephews, and he showed his displeasure, after his kind, with remarkable frankness; but I am not the least angry, and I beg you will make no difference for my sake."

"If you really wish it--" he paused, and then went on--"Mrs. Ormonde whined a good deal to me in a corner about her affection for you, her hard fate, Ormonde's brutality, etc., etc.; she is a _rusee_ little devil."

"Poor Ada! I fancy she has not had a pleasant time of it. Had she been a woman of feeling, it would have been too dreadful...."

"Well, you make your mind easy on that score. Now, what about the boys?"

Katherine was vexed to find how impossible it was to talk of them with composure; she was unhinged in some unaccountable way, and Lord de Burgh's ill-repressed tenderness made her feel nervous. At length she asked him to come upstairs and look for Mrs. Needham, as her head ached, and she thought she would like to retire if she could be spared.

"Yes, you had better--you don't seem up to much," he returned, pressing her hand slightly against his side. "I can't bear to see you look worried and ill. That's not a civil speech, I suppose; but, ill or well, you _know_ your face is always the sweetest to me, and I am always dying to know what you are thinking of. There, I will not worry you now; but shall you be 'fit' for this function on Sunday?"

"Oh, yes, quite."

"I am obliged to run down to Wales--some matters there want the master's eye, they tell me--but I shall return Friday or Sat.u.r.day. By the way, I wish you would introduce me to this wonderful Angela of Mrs. Needham's."

"Certainly."

On entering the drawing-room, the first forms that met their eyes were Errington and Miss Bradley; she was sitting in a large crimson velvet chair, against the back of which Errington was leaning. Angela was looking up at him with a peculiarly happy, absorbed expression, while his head was bent towards her.

"She is deucedly handsome," said De Burgh, critically, "and much too pleasantly engaged to be interrupted. I can wait."

"Yes, I think it would be unkind to break in on such a conversation. Oh, here is Mrs. Needham! Do you want me very much, Mrs. Needham? because, if not, I should like to go to bed. I have a tiresome headache."

"Go by all means, my dear; you are looking like a ghost; they are all talking and amusing each other now, and don't want you or me." "Good night, then," said Katherine, giving her hand to De Burgh, and she glided away.

"What a lot she takes out of herself!" said De Burgh, looking after her.

"She does indeed," cried Mrs. Needham; "she is so unselfish. I hate to see her worried. I wonder if he has proposed?" she thought.

"I think he is pretty far gone. Now pray don't run away just now; Merrydew is going to give one of his musical sketches, and then I want to introduce you to Professor Gypsum. He thinks there ought to be a rich coal seam on your South Wales property; he is a most intelligent, accomplished man."

"Very well--with pleasure," said De Burgh, complacently.

It was rather a relief to be quite sure that De Burgh was safe out of the way for a few days. His presence always disturbed her with a mixed sense of pain and self-reproach. He gave her no opening to warn him off, yet she felt that he lost no opportunity of pushing his mines up to the defences; and she liked him--liked him sincerely--always believing there was much undeveloped goodness under his rough exterior.

Sunday came quickly, for the intervening days had been very fully occupied, and thus Katherine had been saved from too much thought of the boys and their possible trials.

It was a soft, lovely spring day. The lilacs and laburnums had put on their ball-dresses for the season, and there was a fresh, youthful feeling in the air. The villa of which Angela was the happy mistress was one of the few old places standing on the edge of the common at Wimbledon, and boasting mossy green lawns, huge cedar trees, and delightful shrubberies, paths leading through a well-disposed patch of plantation, and a fine view from the windows of the deep red-brick mansion, with its copings, window-heads, and pediments of white stone.

Katherine started with a brave determination to throw off dull care and enjoy herself, if possible--why should she not? Life had many sides, and, though the present was gloomy, there was no reason why its clouds should not hide bright sunshine which lay awaiting the future. She had manoeuvred that Mrs. Needham should join an elderly couple of their acquaintance in an open carriage, and so avoided appearing in Lord de Burgh's elegant equipage.

The grounds were already dotted with gaily dressed groups; for, although there were no formally invited guests, Miss Bradley's Sundays were largely attended by her extensive circle of acquaintance, and this first Sabbath of really fine spring weather brought a larger number than usual.

"I am glad you put on that pretty black and white dress," whispered Mrs.

Needham, as they alighted and went into the hall. "I see everyone is in their best bibs and tuckers;--isn't it a lovely house! Ah! many a poor author's brain has paid toll to provide all this."

"I suppose so."

"Miss Bradley is in the conservatory," said a polite butler, and into a deliciously fragrant conservatory they were ushered.

"Very glad to see you, Miss Liddell," said Angela, kindly, when she had greeted Mrs. Needham. "This is your first visit to the Court. Do you know I wanted to ask you to come down to us for a few days; but, when I looked for you at Mrs. Needham's the other night, you had vanished, and since I have been so much taken up, as I will explain later, that I have been quite unable to write. I hope you will manage to pay us a visit next week; the air here is most reviving."