A Crooked Path Part 88

Presently he ceased to speak, and, after a moment's thought, stood up.

"Now I have said my say, and I must go," he exclaimed. "I only came to explain myself to you, for the less of such a story committed to paper the better. I am due in town to-morrow morning; write to Rachel, and come and see her as soon as you can. I wish," he added, with a searching glance, "that I had a woman like you to regulate matters and take care of my little Marie; then I could keep her with me."

"She is far better at school," returned Katherine, a little startled by this suggestive speech. "But will you not have some luncheon before you go?"

"No, thank you. I had some before coming on here. I need very little food, and scarcely anything gives me pleasure; but I like you, my cousin, and I want your friendship for the child."

"She shall have it, I promise."

After a few more words, George Liddell bid her good-bye. She stood a few minutes in deep thought before going to tell her good news to Miss Payne, reflecting that she must not betray the real motive of his change towards herself; the less she said the better. While she thought, Miss Payne came in looking unusually eager.

"Wouldn't he stay and have a bit to eat?" she exclaimed. "I saw him going out of the gate from my room."

"No, he is in a hurry to get back to town. Ah! my dear Miss Payne, he came down to make his peace with me, and he is going to provide for the boys."

"Why, what has happened to him? I can hardly believe my ears."

"I am sure I could hardly believe mine. I suppose as he grew accustomed to feel that everything was in his hands, and that I had given him no trouble, he saw that he had been unnecessarily severe. Then his little girl took him to Rachel Trant's, and they evidently spoke of me; probably she gave a highly colored description of my goodness, and, being an impulsive man, he said he would come and see me, whereupon she wrote to warn me."

"That's all possible; but somehow I feel there is more in it than I quite understand."

"I am sure I do not care to understand the wherefore, if only my cousin carries out his good intentions as regards Cis and Charlie."

"Just so; that is the main point. If he does, what a burden will be lifted off your shoulders!"

"And what a change in the boys' fortunes!" returned Katherine; adding, after a short pause, "I think I will go to town with you on Monday and pay them a visit, while you arrange your affairs with your tenant. Mrs.

Needham will put me up for a night or two."

In truth, Katherine longed to see and talk with Rachel, to discuss the curious turn in her changeful fortunes, and build up pleasant palaces in the airy realms of the future.

The following day brought her a letter from De Burgh. It was dated from Paris, and told her of his intention to be absent from England for some time; he pleaded earnestly for pardon with a certain rough eloquence, and repeated the arguments he had previously urged, evidently thinking that his punishment was greatly disproportionate to his offence.

Katherine was much moved by this epistle; she could not help being sorry for him, though she hoped not to meet him again. The a.s.sociation of ideas was too painful; she was ashamed too to remember how near she had come to marrying him, in a sort of despair of the future. She answered this letter at once, frankly and kindly, setting forth the unalterable nature of her decision, and begging him not to put her to unnecessary pain by trying to renew their acquaintance at any future time.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

THE END.

The project of going to town, however, was not carried out. Miss Payne caught a severe cold, owing to the unusual circ.u.mstance of having forgotten her umbrella, and, in consequence, getting wet through by a sudden heavy shower.

Instead, therefore, of speeding London-wards on Monday, Miss Payne spent the weary hours in bed with a racking headache and Katherine in close attendance.

Next day, however, she was considerably better, and even talked of coming downstairs in the evening when the house was shut up. She insisted on sending her kind nurse out for air and exercise, as she was looking pallid and heavy-eyed; nor was Katherine reluctant to go, for she enjoyed being alone to meditate on the curious interweaving of fate's warp and woof which had made Rachel the means of reconciliation between George Liddell and herself. She ought now to take up her life again with courage and energy. The boys provided for, she had nothing to fear, while, if the future held out no brilliant prospect of personal happiness, much quiet content probably lay in the humble sufficiency which was now hers. The interest she would take in the careers of Cis and Charlie would renew her youth, and keep her in touch with active life, while, as the impression of her various troubles wore away under the swift-flowing stream of time, she would feel more and more the restful excellence of peace. It was not a bad outlook, yet Katherine felt sad as she contemplated it. Finding her self-commune less cheering than she antic.i.p.ated, she turned her steps homeward, and entered the house through the window of the drawing-room which opened on a rustic veranda. Coming from strong sunlight into comparative darkness, she took off her hat, and pushed back her hair from her brow before she perceived that a gentleman had risen from the chair where he sat reading.

"You see I have dared to take possession of the premises in your absence," he said.

"Mr. Errington?" cried Katherine, her heart suddenly bounding, and then beating so violently she could hardly speak. "How--where--did you come from?"

"From London, to enjoy a brief breathing-s.p.a.ce from pressure of work--welcome as it generally is! I am sorry to find that your friend Miss Payne is invalided, as she was not visible, I ventured to wait for you."

"I am very glad to see you," returned Katherine, placing herself on the sofa as far from the window as she could, for she felt herself changing color in a provoking way.

"I saw Mrs. Needham yesterday, who gave me your address and sundry messages, one to the effect that she hopes to pay you a visit next Sat.u.r.day; the rest I do not remember accurately, for she was much excited and not very distinct."

"We shall be delighted to see her, she is so bright and sympathetic.

What was the immediate cause of her excitement?"

"The marriage of Miss Bradley in about a fortnight."

"Indeed!" cried Katherine, thinking this way of announcing it rather odd, but never doubting it was his own marriage also. "Then accept my warm congratulations; you have no well-wisher more sincere than myself."

Errington looked up surprised.

"Why do you congratulate me? I certainly was of some use in bringing it about, but sooner or later they would certainly have married."

"They? who--whom is she going to marry?"

"My old friend Major Urquhart. It is a very old attachment, but Mr.

Bradley objected to his want of fortune; then, as Bradley's wealth increased, Urquhart felt reluctant to come forward again. Accident revealed the state of the case to me. I went to see Urquhart, who had just returned from India, and was in Edinburgh. I persuaded him to return with me, and once the lovers met, matters swiftly arranged themselves. Finally, Bradley gave his consent. Now the air is resonant with the coming chime of wedding bells."

"I am greatly surprised," said Katherine, and it was some minutes before she could speak again. Her horizon seemed suddenly suffused with light; she felt dizzy with a strange delightful glow, and confused with a sense of shame at her own unreasoning, irrational joy. What difference could Errington's marriage or no marriage make to her?

"I suppose," resumed Errington, after looking earnestly at her speaking face, "that the intimacy which arose between Mr. Bradley and myself in consequence of my connection with _The Cycle_ suggested the rumor of my engagement with his daughter; but no such idea ever entered my head or Angela's. You know, I suppose, I am now _de facto_ editor of _The Cycle_. It is a good appointment, and enables me to hope for possibilities, though I dare not say probabilities."

"I am sure you will be an admirable editor," said Katherine, pulling herself together, and trying to speak lightly.

"Why?" asked Errington, smiling.

"You are just, and--and careful, and must be a good judge of the subjects such a periodical treats of."

"Thank you." He paused; then, looking down, he continued, "Mrs. Needham tells me you have been troubled about your nephews."

"Yes, I was very much troubled, but I think they are safe and well now; later I should put them to a better school, as I now hope to do." She stopped to think how she should best explain George Liddell's unexpected generosity, and Errington exclaimed.

"These boys are a heavy charge to you! yet I suppose you could not bring yourself to give them up?"

"How could I? their mother can really do nothing for them, and it would be cruel to hand them over to Colonel Ormonde's charity."

"It would! you are right," said Errington, hastily. "Poor little fellows! to lose you would be too terrible a trial for them."

Katherine raised her eyes to his; they were moist with grat.i.tude for his sympathy, and seemed to draw him magnetically to her. He changed his place to the sofa; leaning one arm on the back, he rested his head on his hand, and looked gravely down upon her.

"Will you forgive me if I ask an intrusive question? You know we agreed to be friends, yet our friendship does not seem to thrive, it is dying of starvation because we so rarely meet; still, for the sake of our shadowy friendship, answer me: may I put the natural construction on De Burgh's sudden departure from England?"

Katherine hesitated; she did not like to say in so many words that she had refused him, a curious, half-remorseful feeling made her especially considerate towards him.