The Career of Katherine Bush Part 36

"Come and breakfast with me in my sitting-room to-morrow morning, G. We can talk it over," and she chuckled softly.

When Katherine sat by her fire an hour later she set herself to look carefully over the last five months of her life, and to mark what they had brought her.

The gain was immense! She had emerged from being an ordinary shorthand typist at Liv and Dev's to be an inmate of the house in Berkeley Square, and from that to be the pa.s.sion of Gerard Strobridge, and the valued companion of Lady Garribardine at Blissington. And now she had spent the evening almost as their equal and had heard twenty eminent people all talking the shibboleth of the great world of politics and fashion; and had not felt totally out of place in their company, which she knew was not composed of the agreeable fools of the Christmas party, but contained several politicians of distinction, a diplomat or two and a foreign amba.s.sador.

The contrast was delightful to think about; it even gave her pleasure to recall Bindon's Green as a foil! She laughed without any bitterness to herself when she remembered the bath and the oyster incidents, and several others of the Lord Algy Period--and how she had secretly admired the "rather awful" rooms at the Great Terminus Hotel; her eye and her taste then so totally uneducated that in spite of many walks in museums, she had not been able to distinguish her deplorable deficiencies in both respects. Oh! What an immeasurable gulf now separated her from those days! It was a praiseworthy achievement for only five months. But she realised more than ever from the conversations she had heard to-night that she was still very ignorant, and that constant mixing with this society would be the only way to give her that polish and confidence which could enable her to display the really cultivated thoughts of her mind.

The quickness and lightness with which subtle and clever sallies were answered--the perfect ease of everyone! She knew that she was able to control her own face and manner to appear at ease, but she could not pretend that she felt so altogether as yet, except with Gerard Strobridge, but then Gerard, while her literary master, was her worshipping servant--so that was different!

To please companies of women must now be her aim, and to avoid talking to any attractive men at all until she had obtained such a sure place that the jealousy of her own s.e.x would be immaterial to her. She had observed that Lady Elton, whose songs she had accompanied, had a distinct penchant for Mr. Strobridge--unreturned she knew--but it behooved her to be more particularly careful. Another woman who had also spoken to her, a Mrs. Bosanquet, was really interesting--about fifty and highly intelligent. Katherine had carefully watched how she led the conversation in the group where she stood. As a company all these ladies were much gentler and more refined in manner than some of those who had a.s.sisted at the tableaux. She gathered from their remarks that they rather held themselves apart from these others and indeed laughed at them good-naturedly. There were sets within sets evidently, and this was the very inner _creme de la creme_.

Katherine wondered how long it would be before some distinct goal presented itself--that would be for Fate to decide--and only those who had made themselves fit to profit by Fate's chances could hope to succeed in such a difficult game as she was playing; with every prejudice of cla.s.s and s.e.x against her, there was no time to be wasted in any foolish relaxations!

She wondered if Lady Garribardine had approved of her behaviour. The old gentleman she had talked to had been intelligent if pompous, and she had enjoyed their discussion. She thought of the Chesterfield Letters--of what great use they had been to her! She saw the pitfalls they had enabled her to avoid. Now her next immediate aim must be to come down into the drawing-room as frequently as she was allowed. She determined to make herself of great use, and, if she had the chance to tackle any bore, so that her mistress should feel that she was of real service.

At last she retired to bed well pleased with her evening.

When Mr. Strobridge came into his aunt's sitting-room next morning he found her in a charming negligee and cap pouring out the coffee.

"I could not wait for you, G.," she told him. "Sit down, quickly--there are only two dishes besides bacon and eggs--chicken curry and devilled sole--they are all on the table at your elbow."

They chatted of several things, the party princ.i.p.ally.

"Now I have time, G.--to hear how it fares with Lao. How did you escape--with dignity--or rather in disgrace?"

"She believes she threw me over; it is extremely fortunate. Beatrice was an invaluable help." Mr. Strobridge put some chutney in his curry. "Lao and I are the greatest friends--she feels that I fought hard with my inclinations and made a n.o.ble conquest--by absenting myself in Egypt!

Now she is greatly amused with a Hussar boy at home on leave from India--she must be older than one thought."

His aunt laughed delightedly.

"It is a bad sign certainly. Lao is ageless, though, anything between twenty-eight and forty-five. We stay like that for years and then suddenly grow ridiculous! I believe you have extricated me from the appearance of that at all events, G. My new toupee has given me a new perspective."

"You are quite beautiful now, Seraphim."

"My golden ones were a habit. It has been a source of great gratification to me to watch how my friends have taken the alteration--even Miss Bush made a faint exclamation when she first saw it!"

"She is usually very self-contained."

"G., that girl is a wonder--have you anything to tell me about her?"

"Nothing except that I agree with you that she is the most naturally intelligent creature I have ever met."

"Are you in love with her, dear boy?"

"Yes--extremely."

"To the point of unhappiness?"

"I have not a.n.a.lysed the point--but it is bound to be unhappiness since she does not care one atom for me."

"You burnt your fingers that day in the picture gallery, then? It was a pity I let you."

"The fire was lit before that--I think it was better that it flared up--now I am trying to settle down into being friends. Seraphim, I want to help her. I do so admire her courage and her profound common sense.

She frankly desires to cultivate her mind and improve in every way; the change in her even since Christmas is remarkable--do be kind to her and let her come down sometimes as you did last night."

"I intend to." Lady Garribardine helped herself to honey. "I am going to take her to Paris with me next week and then we shall be in London--there it will be more difficult."

"Seraphim, have I your permission really to teach her things?"

Her Ladyship laughed her bubbling laugh.

"It quite depends what things--to love you, a married man? Certainly not! To improve her own intellect--perhaps."

"It is, alas! to do the latter, dearest of aunts, but----" and here his voice vibrated with unwonted feeling, "I tell you frankly that if I did not know that the case is perfectly hopeless, and that I could never succeed in making her care for me, I believe I would brave even your wrath and attempt to win her."

"As what--your mistress?" rather tartly.

Mr. Strobridge shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"I would marry her willingly if Beatrice would divorce me--such things can be arranged."

"Yes, Beatrice is an excellent creature, as you often say--but since Miss Bush will have none of you, you had better stick to Beatrice, she has done you so many good turns. Think of Lao!"

Then as she saw the look of pain and weariness upon his much-loved face, she got up and did what she had perhaps not done for quite ten years, she put her kind arm round his neck and pulled his head back against her ample bosom.

"Dearest boy," she whispered softly, "I cannot bear that anything should really hurt you. What course is the right one to pursue, so that you shall not have more pain? We must think it out."

He was deeply touched and rested there comforted by her fond affection.

"Let me see her now and then in peace without subterfuge, so that I may help her with her education--and then in the autumn I think I will take that chance of being sent to Teheran--Seraphim, do you remember the afternoon she typed the charity things, when I came up to tea with you, you said I was depressed, and I said it was the shadow of coming events?

Well, how true it has proved--that is the first time I ever noticed her, and once before you had remarked that you feared I should one day be profoundly in love."

Lady Garribardine stooped and kissed his forehead.

"Alas!" she said. "But you were too fine, dear G., to go on drifting forever from the Alice Southerwoods to the Laos; it was bound to come with your temperament. I really wish you could marry this girl and have some splendid little sons for me to adopt and leave some of my money to."

"I would ask nothing better of Fate," and his eyes became suffused with light at the thought. His aunt sat down again and began peeling an apple.

"You would have no objection to that despised domestic relationship, then--it would not even appear bourgeois, eh?"

"Not in the least."

"G.,--how the whole world is full of shams. This ridiculous thing called marriage! What a problem, and no light on the subject! A suitable marriage is perfect happiness, the obligations are joys and pleasures, and it does not seem to be allowed to occur more than once in a hundred years. All the rest are in gradations of unsuitableness and fret and boredom. It makes me shudder now when I see people standing at the altar, swearing to love forever--nine-tenths of them not even taking in the meaning of the vows they are making--and a large percentage going through them for some ultimate end entirely disconnected with love or desire for the partner they are being bound to--it is tragic."

Mr. Strobridge agreed.

"I am convinced," Her Ladyship went on, now warmed to her subject, "that much unhappiness would be avoided if no vows were made at all, but the parson merely joined the hands and said a prayer over them to ask that they might go on desiring each other, and that ended the business. I believe truly that the actual breaking of the vow acts in some mysterious occult fashion and draws penalties of misery upon the breakers."