Loe raamatut: «The Career of Katherine Bush», lehekülg 10

CHAPTER XIV

A message came up to Katherine next morning – the morning of Christmas Day – from Lady Garribardine to say that she could walk across the park to church with the two elder children and that she was to take them into the front pew that faced the large carved family one behind the choir at right angles.

And from this well-placed outlook Miss Bush later on observed the house party enter by a door in the chancel. They filled the whole long seat and overflowed into the pew where she and the children sat, and it happened that Gerard Strobridge was next her and knelt to say his prayers.

Propinquity is a very curious thing, and when all possibility of conversation is nil, propinquity has sometimes been known to exert a very powerful influence. Gerard Strobridge was conscious with every throb of his pulse of the nearness of Katherine Bush; there was a magnetic disturbing emanation he felt coming from her, which excited him unaccountably. He kept glancing at her regular profile from time to time. Her very pale skin and large red mouth attracted him immensely. She never once looked at him, and maintained an air of absolute unconsciousness.

"What is she thinking about, I wonder?" he mused. "I have never seen a face more sphinxlike; she could be good or devilishly bad, she could love passionately and hate coldly, she could be cruel as the grave and hard as adamant. She is a woman that a man were wiser not to know too well for his own safety."

But reflections of this sort never yet made son of Adam avoid the object of them, so when they came out and Katherine was waiting for instructions from her employer as to the disposal of the children, Mr. Strobridge came up to her.

"A happy Christmas, Miss Bush," he said. "Are you going to walk back through the Park? Here, Teddy, I will come with you."

"We are going in the motor with Grandmamma," both children cried at once as Katherine returned his greeting, and they ran off to Lady Garribardine. So Katherine started to walk on alone, while the rest of the party lingered about the porch and made up their minds as to whether or no they would drive.

She had gone some way and was on a path by a copse in the Park, when Mr. Strobridge caught her up.

"Why did you race ahead, Miss Bush?" he asked. "Did you not want any companion in your solitude?"

"I never thought about it," she returned quite simply.

"I did – I wanted to walk with you, I have been watching you all the time in church. I believe that you were in dreamland again; now will be the very moment to finish our discussion upon it."

"I don't think we had begun it."

"Well, we will."

"How are we to start?"

"You are going to tell me where yours is – in the heart or in the head?"

"Such a conversation would be altogether unprofitable." There was mischief lurking in the corner of her eye and trembling in the curves of her full mouth.

"I must judge of that."

"How so? Do I not count?"

"Enormously – that is why I want to hear of your dreamland."

"It is a place where only I can go."

"How unsociable – but you look disobliging."

"I am."

"Very well, I give up the task of trying to make you tell me about it. By the way, I have not had the chance to thank you for so kindly finishing those papers for that confounded charity. My aunt said they were in perfect order."

"I am glad of that."

He raised his head and looked away in front of them down into a dell and so up again to the house.

"Isn't this a beautiful view? I always think of 'the stately homes of England' when I walk back from church."

Katherine's eyes followed his to the gabled, irregular red brick house, with its wreath of blue smoke going straight up into the winter sky.

"I have never seen one before," she told him. "You can imagine how wonderful this appears to me after the place where I have lived. I had only seen Hampton Court, but somehow all the people there and its being a museum did not make it have the impression of a house that is inhabited."

"This pleases you, does it?"

"Naturally. I love everything about it, the space, and people not being allowed in. It is Her Ladyship's own – she can shut the gates if she wants to and have it all to herself – that must be good."

"What a strange girl! You would not like to share anything, then? I have already remarked this deplorably selfish instinct in you, in reference to your dreamland – and you would keep poor devils out of your park, too, if you could!"

"Generally – yes."

"Well, I want to be the exception to this exclusiveness. If I come up one afternoon to the old schoolroom, for instance, and ask you to talk to me, will you turn me out?"

"It depends what you want me to talk to you about. If it is upon a subject only to please you – yes – if to please me then I may let you stay for a little."

"What subjects would please you?"

"I would like to hear all about the pictures in the house, for instance – you see, before I came to Lady Garribardine I had never conversed with anyone educated in art. So I have only a very little book knowledge to go upon."

"We will talk about art then; the house is full of interesting things, part of it is so old."

For the rest of the way he did his best to entertain his aunt's insignificant secretary, and they both knew that the walk had been very charming. When they got into the shrubbery, Katherine took the path which led to the small rose-garden courtyard, on which the schoolroom staircase opened.

"Of course, I had forgotten you have a front door all to yourself."

"Yes – our roads divide here. Good morning, Mr. Strobridge."

"Are you going to shake hands with me?"

"No, it is quite unnecessary."

"Au revoir, then. To-night I shall dance with you. I have not danced for ten years."

"Then probably you will not do it well. Recollect I come from Bindon's Green where we learn the very newest steps. I never have put up with a bad partner."

"I can't 'turkey trot,' if that is what you mean."

"Then I am afraid you are too old and too old-fashioned for my taste." And smiling demurely, she walked off to the quaint, wrought-iron gate which opened into the rose garden.

Gerard Strobridge laughed as he went on his way. Why was he attracted to this girl? He was a person of the highest fastidiousness, and had never had a liaison with any woman beneath him in class in his life, even in his Oxford days. It was against his idea of the fitness of things. To flirt with his aunt's secretary! But the creature was so sensible, and so intelligent it made matters appear in a different light – there surely could not be much harm in discussing pictures and sculpture with her, or a poet or two! But at this stage he did put some restraint upon himself, and made no further attempts to see her until she came down to pour out the tea again. He bravely made love to Läo, and exercised as much skill to keep matters from approaching a climax as he was wont to use in bringing on that happy occurrence. It caused him a cynical amusement.

Katherine had on the dress which rather resembled his wife's, and looked almost as distinguished, and a good deal more healthy and attractive.

Her demeanour was so admirable, too; she had none of either that overhumble obsequiousness or touchy assertion, which so often distinguished these quasi-gentlefolk, he thought. She might have been a Lady Clara Vere de Vere in her quiet dignity and utter freedom from all self-consciousness.

It was evident that she was not thinking of herself at all, or wondering whether or no she was being noticed or slighted, or properly or improperly treated. She was just gravely pouring out the tea and attending to people's wants as quietly sure of herself as his aunt would have been. Indeed, it almost seemed to Gerard watching her that she stood out, if he could have selected one from the whole party, as the most perfect specimen of womanhood.

Was it her supreme will – her force of character which had overcome all class traditions? He remembered what she had said about no ordinary Radical ever being able to be a foreign minister. How she must have thought out matters! Her brain was that of a woman in a thousand.

The Christmas tea grew very merry, and old Colonel Hawthorne, friend of the family for countless years, found it his pleasant duty to be genial with the good-looking secretary. Gerard continued to watch; she answered the pleasantries with so much wit, and never the least presumption.

After a while he drifted up to his aunt's own sitting-room for a quarter of an hour before dressing time – Läo had been cajoled into thinking all was well between them, and had gone off to make herself especially beautiful for dinner.

She had been through one or two disquieting moments. Gerard had appeared all that an eager lover should be, and she felt she must have been stupid in some way to have given him the impression that she was serious in her protestation of "not yet." She had no rival – that was plain to be seen. He never spoke to Betty d'Estaire – who was the only other young woman of the party. Perhaps it was because of Beatrice! Gerard was such a perfect gentleman, perhaps in some corner of a foolishly overpunctilious heart he was deterred by – Beatrice! But fortunately Beatrice was leaving the day after Boxing Day.

In any case her usual method of rigid circumspection – until the very last moment – had not been quite successful with this would-be lover; he had been deceived by it and slightly rebuffed. It was merciful as far as her own emotions were concerned, but she knew men well enough to know that unless she herself had damped his ardour, this state of things was not altogether natural, and therefore it might imply some lack in her own charm, which was not an agreeable thought. However, she need not feel really disquieted while his attentions were still so empressé.

"Seraphim, I walked back from church with Miss Bush," Gerard said, stretching himself out in a huge chair by his aunt's fire, while he lighted a cigarette. "You are quite right, she is a most intelligent young woman; how do you account for that something about her which is not at all of her class?"

"I don't know, it has puzzled me. I was watching her to-day pouring out the tea; she is the first secretary I have ever had, not excepting poor Arnott, who on such occasions did not feel that one or other of the guests was trying to snub her – Katherine Bush is never on the defensive – it is quite unique in a person of her station."

"I watched her, too, and was struck with the same thing; and to-day she talked so well. She wanted to hear about the pictures – she is absolutely frank and tells one in the naïvest manner about what things she is ignorant of – but one finds that she must have read considerably."

"She is full of theories about tradition and evolution. I let her tell me them motoring down – she seems to have dissected herself and her family in an endeavour to eradicate what she disapproves of in the way of instincts."

"It is astonishing, isn't it, Seraphim?"

"Very – she made one or two rather dreadful gaffes when she first came, especially during the tableaux week – it was quite interesting to see her face when she realised this. She did not once try to explain them away – she drew in her lips and I could see she was registering a vow never to make the same mistake again. That kind of nature always wins any game it is playing."

"I wonder what hers is – don't you?"

"The immediate one obviously is to turn herself into a lady – She means to do in a few years consciously, what nature takes many generations to accomplish in the ordinary course of events – Her progress is quite remarkable even in these six weeks."

"What shall you do with her, Seraphim?"

"Keep her as long as she will stay with me, G., and perhaps take her education in hand myself when you all leave." And then Lady Garribardine laughed softly. "Läo is a huge joke, dear boy – I think the parrot rooms suit her, don't you? Are you pleased with my arrangements for my guests?"

There was something exquisitely whimsical in Her Ladyship's old black eyes, his met them delightedly. Aunt and nephew understood each other so well, these two perfect citizens of the world!

"Läo is charming! And I am sure she is deriving all sorts of inspirations from the blue macaw's amourettes with the yellow-crested cockatoo, which she looks at from her downy couch – Seraphim, I am going to persuade Beatrice to stay on – Beatrice is an excellent creature in spite of her contempt for my powers as a chauffeur! She is quite amused with Victor Thistlethwaite. I paved the way by suggesting to her this morning that she should take the early train on Thursday, and she said at once, that she rather thought she was not leaving until Saturday with the rest."

Lady Garribardine chuckled delightedly; the noise was as of cream bubbling – if cream can bubble!

"Tiens!" was all she said and then went on to speak of other things. "Betty d'Estaire is going to catch young Allonby, G. I believe they will settle it to-night. For one of my blood she has a number of overmodern faults, and Gwendoline and Arabella will be glad to get her off their hands."

"She is a promising young person."

"Even blood can't stand against the total want of discipline which prevails among the present generation, G. When these impossible girls' children have grown up there won't be any ladies left."

"I don't think they will have many children – we are breeding a neuter race, Seraphim. All the games are making their bones too rigid, and all the want of discipline is weakening their nerves – very few of the future ones will be able to stand the agonies of child-bearing."

"You are not in a position to criticise, G., with no offspring of your own!"

"I am not an eldest son; there is no obligation entailed upon me! Dick has three boys, fortunately, and Alec, two."

"I consider that the poorest excuse."

Mr. Strobridge sighed.

"Perhaps it is – the whole thing is rather played out with us all, isn't it? Seraphim, when I talked with that balanced, healthy young woman to-day, I felt we want an admixture of new blood in a number of our families, if only to bring back our enthusiasm. Dick's children are fine enough fellows physically, but there is not half a peck o' wits among them – and as you know, Alec's little Yankee chaps are what their mother calls 'brainy' to a degree, but masses of overstrung nerves as well."

Lady Garribardine leaned forward from among her sofa cushions and looked at her nephew with a quizzical eye.

"G., if you were free and my heir, I'd marry you off to Katherine Bush just for the pleasure of the experiment!"

Then the little Sèvres clock chimed. "Why, it is striking the quarter – rush off at once, dear boy! – and don't forget to put on your hunt coat; the scarlet pleases the children."

In another part of the house, Her Ladyship's secretary, quite unaware that she was under discussion, was joyously dressing in her pretty oak-panelled room, with a delicious sense of excitement. Martha was coming in to help her presently for this wonderful first occasion in her life when she should put on a real evening dress, showing pearl white neck and arms. Gladys had given her every instruction as to its fastenings and had supervised the making of it with a zeal which she would only have bestowed upon an order from the richest customer. The frock fitted to perfection, and was astonishingly becoming in its black simplicity.

Martha had brought her in some beautiful lilies of the valley, when she came with her hot water, accompanied by the information that Mr. Strobridge's valet had handed them to her for Miss Bush, from his master.

Gerard had been robbing the hothouses evidently. The head gardener was a particular friend of his. They were just the touch wanted to complete the picture; their snowy whiteness and brilliant forced green gave the note of freshness which went so well with Katherine's skin – of an astonishing purity – by candle-light as clear as ivory and as pale in tone.

She gazed into her looking-glass and felt satisfied with what she saw, and presently she held her shoulders back and her head up, and walked down the corridor with the grace of a Comédie Française queen! So greatly does the consciousness of fine raiment affect the morale of young women!

Lady Beatrice came out of her room in the great gallery and they went down together.

"You do look so pretty, Miss Bush," she said. "What a duck of a frock! It looks like an Ermantine."

"Yes, my sister is a saleswoman there, and she had it made for me," Katherine told her. – "I am glad you think it looks well. I have never had on a real evening dress before."

"You know how to wear it so that is all right! Ah, children, come along!" as three joyous calls came from over the banisters. And Katherine slipped on alone. Lady Garribardine had told her, before she went to dress, to go to Bronson to see that a special order about the presents was carried out.

All the party were assembled in the great drawing-room when this duty was done, and so her entrance did not pass unremarked.

"By Jove!" was the significant exclamation of old Colonel Hawthorne.

"And I am to have the pleasure of taking you in to dinner," said the charming young man who had so far succeeded in diverting Lady Beatrice.

Gerard Strobridge felt a strange sensation as he looked at Katherine presently, between the great bowls of camellias – there was no comparison with anyone at the table; Her Ladyship's secretary had blossomed forth into the beauty of the night.

"How clothes can alter a person!" Mrs. Delemar said without conscious spite – dependents, even pretty ones, were not things which counted. – "Look, G. – dear Sarah's typist appears quite pretty to-night, and how kind she is to her servants; see, she has let the girl have those beautiful lilies of the valley which Hawke told me to-day when you were making him give me the orchids, it just breaks his heart to have to cut!"

CHAPTER XV

The sudden accession to beauty in Lady Garribardine's secretary had a double – nay, treble – result! It caused Mr. Victor Thistlethwaite plainly to show that he perceived it at dinner, and thereby considerably to annoy both the Lady Beatrice and Mr. Gerard Strobridge during that meal! Lady Beatrice considered it impertinence on the part of Miss Bush and Mr. Strobridge found it "ridiculous cheek of that insufferable puppy Thistlethwaite."

Katherine for her part enjoyed herself! She had got over the awe of servants – and the strangeness of well-bred companions – She was now sure of the methods of eating, too, and so had leisure to enjoy conversation and she was filled with that delicious sovereign complacency which only a woman discovering that she is undeniably a success can know.

While remaining exceedingly demure, she managed to arrest the exclusive attention of her partner for the feast, and Lady Garribardine watched the whole thing with a whimsical eye.

Gerard Strobridge was too good a diplomat to allow the vaguest trace of his disturbed equilibrium to show in his face, and talked to Läo with renewed passion, so that before they began to pull crackers she was feeling perfectly contented in the certain conviction that it was Beatrice's presence alone which kept him within bounds! He had not made love to women ever since he left Eton, or served his country at the Foreign Office until the age of thirty-five, without acquiring a certain experience in feminine psychology, and a knowledge as to the best manipulation of diplomatic situations, and even though he had been irritated by Mr. Thistlethwaite's evident admiration, he saw that it would certainly cause Beatrice to stay until the Saturday, and so in it there lay good.

There were quantities of silver charms in the blazing plum-pudding, and some received omens of wealth, and some of princely mates or lengthy journeys, but Gerard Strobridge could only secure the emblem of an old maid – a thimble was his portion – and he turned the unhappy augury to much good account in a suitable reproach to Läo.

When the caps from the crackers were put on, an early English gold paper crown fell to Katherine's share, and became her mightily.

"Why, Miss Bush looks just like Queen Victoria when she came to the throne, Grandmamma!" called out the elder girl grandchild. "We have her picture on the nursery screen."

"And I wonder what her end will be," Gerard Strobridge thought; "she looks remarkably well in a crown."

The hall had been cleared for dancing and when the excitement in opening the wonderful little presents which lay hidden in a rose by each person's plate was over, the company poured in there, while three local musicians struck up a merry tune. It was a two-step and Miss Betty d'Estaire must try it with some new variations which were just coming in from America at that date (it was before tango days). Katherine was an adept in them, for was not Bindon's Green always in the forefront of modernity? And any kind of dancing she really loved. It was the one pastime of her sisters which she had shared with delight, and often practised with Ethel in their tiny drawing-room before going to bed.

Mr. Thistlethwaite asked her for a turn with him, and they started off.

"It is much better than a stupid old valse, isn't it?" he said to her while they careered smoothly ahead. "And by Jove! how well you dance!"

The blood was rushing in Katherine's veins; it was so good to be young and admired, and forgetful of relative positions for once in a way. She knew very well that she was a far finer performer than the other young girl, and all that was sensuous in her nature came uppermost and quivered through the rhythmic movements of her supple body. Gerard Strobridge watched her silently. He was conscious of profound and increasing emotion; it was as if some primitive, strong, vital thing was there before him, dwarfing the puny make-believes at passion which were so well assumed by Läo Delemar. She was standing beside him looking as beautiful and as artificial as the orchids in her dress.

"How that girl could love!" he breathed to himself as he watched the dancers, and Läo seemed as utterly meaningless as a wax doll!

Once was enough of this sort of thing, Katherine Bush thought; she was keenly alive to atmospheres and she felt that for a secretary to do more than show that she was proficient in these steps would be a breach of taste. So no persuasions of her partner would move her after the first few rounds, and she left him and went off with the youngest grandchild in a polka step.

Thus the Lady Beatrice recovered her whilom admirer, and when another tune had begun and Läo had been safely lured into the arms of the distant cousin, Gerard Strobridge came over casually to where Katherine stood.

"Am I to be allowed a turn of this old-fashioned valse, Miss Bush?" he asked.

But Katherine was not to be beguiled so easily – she must parley first!

"I do not know if her Ladyship expects me to dance any more," she answered. "If you think she will not mind my accepting this honour, I shall be very pleased."

"Foolish thing! Is it not Christmas night, and are you not the belle of the ball?" And he held out his arm and they whirled off. It gave him immense pleasure to hold her in his embrace – but something in the scent of the violets in his scarlet hunt coat brought back to Katherine with a sickening thrill of anguish and longing the remembrance of Lord Algy and the Saturday night in Paris when they had danced in masks and dominoes at a Bal Tabarin. Oh! the pain of it! – Suddenly the whole present melted away from her – the dreams of the future, the pride in her conquest of the past! The passionate woman in her cried aloud in wild longing for him, Algy – her darling, her dearly-loved mate! How plain were these other young men! – How tired and old Gerard Strobridge looked! At that moment she would have thrown her whole ambitions away into nothingness, to be clasped once more to Algy's heart! Her cheeks became ashen white and her strange eyes grew shadowed and fierce, and Gerard Strobridge was brought up sharply out of his intoxication of emotion by the look in her face.

"What is it, child?" he asked anxiously, holding her close.

"Let me go – let me go!" she cried wildly, breaking from him near the staircase recess. "I – I – cannot bear it – I would like to get out of all this!"

He was intensely astonished, but he saw that she was trembling, and well as he knew women he could not fathom the reason of this strange outburst. Katherine recovered her composure almost immediately and gave a short mirthless laugh.

"I am awfully stupid," she faltered. "I cannot think what came over me. I believe it must be because I am unaccustomed to parties, and it is getting late."

"It is not yet eleven o'clock – but come and have something to drink – I see a tray down there in the long hall," and she let him lead her to it and pour out some champagne and seltzer for her, and then they sat down.

He saw very well that something had deeply moved her, and his perfect tact would not permit him to refer to the occurrence, but caused him rather to talk soothingly of ordinary things – and in a few minutes he saw that the normal whiteness had come back to her face. But nothing would induce her to dance any more, and although she continued doing whatever was expected of her during the rest of the evening – and snatched flaming raisins in the snapdragon with dashing indifference to pain – he knew that she was doing it all as an automaton, and that the living, vital, magnetic Katherine was no longer there, and that this pale, quiet girl whose hand he held presently in the deserted corridor was only too glad to say good-night.

"Dear child," he whispered, as he kissed it with homage, "I don't know what it was that caused it, but you have evidently seen a ghost, and now go to bed, and forget everything but that we have all had an awfully happy Christmas, and I want to tell you how pleased I am that you have worn my flowers to-night."

" – Your flowers! Oh! yes, I ought to have thanked you for them before – they were lovely, but now they are dead," and she unpinned them carelessly – almost as if she did not like them any longer to touch her – and threw them in the big open grate.

"Good-night – and thank you for your kindness," and she was off down the passage and up the side stairs.

And when Gerard Strobridge joined the rest of the party in the drawing-room, he had a cigarette between his lips, as though he had been having a smoke, and it required all his polished skill to bring himself back to talking gaily, and to looking what he did not feel, into Mrs. Delemar's sparkling eyes, before they all parted for the night.

Meanwhile, Katherine Bush had reached her room and had flung herself into the armchair. This would not do – she must steel herself against giving way to weakness like this. Why had the scent of the violets in another man's coat had power to affect her so that every part of her being cried out for Algy? As though the suppressed emotions of her heart would no longer obey her will – and must proclaim themselves her master! It was shameful feebleness, and she indignantly resented the dominion that love still held over her. She sat there reasoning with herself, but nature reigned stronger than any other thing at the moment, and the memory of her lover obsessed her. She seemed to hear his voice and feel his kisses, until the agony of longing for reality grew unbearable, and she fell forward and lay there on the rug before the fire beating the floor with her hands. It was as the despair of some fierce savage caged animal crying out for its mate. Her whole face altered, the most intense passion blazed from her eyes – and whitened her cheeks. Could Gerard Strobridge have seen her he would indeed have been moved.

"Algy! Algy – My darling, my love – Come back to me, I want you. My dear, my dear! – "

She sobbed with agony – and then worn out at last – "Oh! God!" she wailed. "Can whatever comes be worth it – after all!"

But by the morning she had crushed emotion and came down ready to assist with the huge Christmas tree for the tenants' children, with her usually composed face.

But that passion denied should have exacted this anguish frightened her a little. All her will should be used to prevent such madness ever holding sway again.