She cast a look round desperately as though seeking something that
would help her. A soft colour rose in her cheeks as a tall fair man
with a limp came hurrying along the path towards them--Major Knighton.
There was relief and an unexpected warmth in her voice as she greeted
him.
Derek stood up scowling, his face black as a thundercloud.
"Lady Tamplin having a flutter?" he said easily. "I must join her and
give her the benefit of my system."
He swung round on his heel and left them together. Katherine sat down
again. Her heart was beating rapidly and unevenly, but as she sat there
talking commonplaces to the quiet, rather shy man beside her, her
self-command came back.
Then she realized with a shock that Knighton also was laying bare his
heart, much as Derek had done, but in a very different manner.
He was shy and stammering. The words came haltingly with no eloquence
to back them.
"From the first moment I saw you--I--I ought not to have spoken so
soon--but Mr. Van Aldin may leave here any day, and I might not
have another chance. I know you can't care for me so soon--that is
impossible. I dare say it is presumption anyway on my part. I have
private means, but not very much--no, please don't answer now. I know
what your answer would be. But in case I went away suddenly I just
wanted you to know--that I care."
She was shaken--touched. His manner was so gentle and appealing.
"There's one thing more. I just wanted to say that if--if you are ever
in trouble, anything that I can do--"
He took her hand in his, held it tightly for a minute, then dropped it
and walked rapidly away towards the Casino without looking back.
Katherine sat perfectly still, looking after him. Derek
Kettering--Richard Knighton--two men so different--so very different.
There was something kind about Knighton, kind and trustworthy. As to
Derek--
Then suddenly Katherine had a very curious sensation. She felt that
she was no longer sitting alone on the seat in the Casino gardens, but
that some one was standing beside her, and that that some one was the
dead woman, Ruth Kettering. She had a further impression that Ruth
wanted--badly--to tell her something. The impression was so curious, so
vivid, that it could not be driven away. She felt absolutely certain
that the spirit of Ruth Kettering was trying to convey something of
vital importance to her. The impression faded. Katherine got up,
trembling a little. What was it that Ruth Kettering had wanted so badly
to say?