There! It is out, and I feel better. How mercenary and awful it looks
written out in cold blood like that. I wouldn't have Jack or Aunt
Elizabeth--dear, unworldly old soul--see it for the world. But I
wouldn't mind Alicia.
Poor dear Jack!
* * * * *
Montreal, Dec. 16, 18--.
This is a nice way to keep a journal. But the days when I could write
regularly are gone by. That was when I was at Thrush Hill.
I am having a simply divine time. How in the world did I ever contrive
to live at Thrush Hill?
To be sure, I felt badly enough that day in October when I left it.
When the train left Valleyfield I just cried like a baby.
Alicia and Roger welcomed me very heartily, and after the first week
of homesickness--I shiver yet when I think of it--was over, I settled
down to my new life as if I had been born to it.
Alicia has a magnificent home and everything heart could wish
for--jewels, carriages, servants, opera boxes, and social position.
Roger is a model husband apparently. I must also admit that he is a
model brother-in-law.
I could feel Alicia looking me over critically the moment we met. I
trembled with suspense, but I was soon relieved.
"Do you know, Katherine, I am glad to see that your photograph didn't
flatter you. Photographs so often do, I am positively surprised at the
way you have developed, my dear; you used to be such a scrawny little
brown thing. By the way, I hope there is nothing between you and Jack
Willoughby?"
"No, of course not," I answered hurriedly. I had intended to tell
Alicia all about Jack, but when it came to the point I couldn't.
"I am glad of that," said Alicia, with a relieved air. "Of course,
I've no doubt Jack is a good fellow enough. He was a nice boy. But he
would not be a suitable husband for you, Katherine."
I knew that very well. That was just why I had refused him. But it
made me wince to hear Alicia say it. I instantly froze up--Alicia says
dignity is becoming to me--and Jack's name has never been mentioned
between us since.
I made my bow to society at an "At Home" which Alicia gave for that
purpose. She drilled me well beforehand, and I think I acquitted
myself decently. Charlie Vankleek, whose verdict makes or mars every
debutante in his set, has approved of me. He called me a beauty, and
everybody now believes that I am one, and greets me accordingly.
I met Gus Sinclair at Mrs. Brompton's dinner. Alicia declares it was a
case of love at first sight. If so, I must confess that it was all on
one side.
Mr. Sinclair is undeniably ugly--even Alicia has to admit that--and
can't hold a candle to Jack in point of looks, for Jack, poor boy, was
handsome, if he were nothing else. But, as Alicia does not fail to
remind me, Mr. Sinclair's homeliness is well gilded.
Apart from his appearance, I really liked him very much. He is a
gentlemanly little fellow--his head reaches about to my
shoulder--cultured and travelled, and can talk splendidly, which Jack
never could.
He took me into dinner at Mrs. Brompton's, and was very attentive. You
may imagine how many angelic glances I received from the other
candidates for his favour.
Since then I have been having the gayest time imaginable. Dances,
dinners, luncheons, afternoon teas, "functions" to no end, and all
delightful.
Aunt Elizabeth writes to me, but I have never heard a word from Jack.
He seems to have forgotten my existence completely. No doubt he has
consoled himself with Mary Carter.
Well, that is all for the best, but I must say I did not think Jack
could have forgotten me so soon or so absolutely. Of course it does
not make the least difference to me.
The Sinclairs and the Bromptons and the Curries are to dine here
tonight. I can see myself reflected in the long mirror before me, and
I really think my appearance will satisfy even Gus Sinclair's critical
eye. I am pale, as usual, I never have any colour. That used to be one
of Jack's grievances. He likes pink and white milkmaidish girls. My
"magnificent pallor" didn't suit him at all.
But, what is more to the purpose, it suits Gus Sinclair. He admires
the statuesque style.
* * * * *
Montreal, Jan. 20, 18--.
Here it is a whole month since my last entry. I am sitting here decked
out in "gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls" for Mrs. Currie's dance.
These few minutes, after I emerge from the hands of my maid and before
the carriage is announced, are almost the only ones I ever have to
myself.
I am having a good time still. Somehow, though, it isn't as exciting
as it used to be. I'm afraid I'm very changeable. I believe I must be
homesick.
I'd love to get a glimpse of dear old Thrush Hill and Aunt Elizabeth,
and J--but, no! I will not write that.
Mr. Sinclair has not spoken yet, but there is no doubt that he soon
will. Of course, I shall accept him when he does, and I coolly told
Alicia so when she just as coolly asked me what I meant to do.
"Certainly, I shall marry him," I said crossly, for the subject always
irritates me. "Haven't I been laying myself out all winter to catch
him? That is the bold, naked truth, and ugly enough it is. My dearly
beloved sister, I mean to accept Mr. Sinclair, without any hesitation,
whenever I get the chance."
"I give you credit for more sense than to dream of doing anything
else," said Alicia in relieved tones. "Katherine, you are a very lucky
girl."
"Because I am going to marry a rich man for his money?" I said coldly.
Sometimes I get snippy with Alicia these days.
"No," said my half-sister in an exasperated way. "Why will you persist
in speaking in that way? You are very provoking. It is not likely I
would wish to see you throw yourself away on a poor man, and I'm sure
you must like Gus."
"Oh, yes, I like him well enough," I said listlessly. "To be sure, I
did think once, in my salad days, that liking wasn't quite all in an
affair of this kind. I was absurd enough to imagine that love had
something to do with it."
"Don't talk so nonsensically," said Alicia sharply. "Love! Well, of
course, you ought to love your husband, and you will. He loves you
enough, at all events."
"Alicia," I said earnestly, looking her straight in the face and
speaking bluntly enough to have satisfied even Jack's love of
straightforwardness, "you married for money and position, so people
say. Are you happy?"
For the first time that I remembered, Alicia blushed. She was very
angry.
"Yes, I did marry for money," she said sharply, "and I don't regret
it. Thank heaven, I never was a fool."
"Don't be vexed, Alicia," I entreated. "I only asked because--well, it
is no matter."
* * * * *
Montreal, Jan. 25, 18--.
It is bedtime, but I am too excited and happy and miserable to sleep.
Jack has been here--dear old Jack! How glad I was to see him.
His coming was so unexpected. I was sitting alone in my room this
afternoon--I believe I was moping--when Bessie brought up his card. I
gave it one rapturous look and tore downstairs, passing Alicia in the
hall like a whirlwind, and burst into the drawing-room in a most
undignified way.
"Jack!" I cried, holding out both hands to him in welcome.
There he was, just the same old Jack, with his splendid big shoulders
and his lovely brown eyes. And his necktie was crooked, too; as soon
as I could get my hands free I put them up and straightened it out for
him. How nice and old-timey that was!
"So you are glad to see me, Kitty?" he said as he squeezed my hands in
his big strong paws.
"'Deed and 'deed I am, Jack. I thought you had forgotten me
altogether. And I've been so homesick and so--so everything," I said
incoherently. "And, oh, Jack, I've so many questions to ask I don't
know where to begin. Tell me all the Thrush Hill and Valleyfield news,
tell me everything that has happened since I left. How many people
have you killed off? And, oh, why didn't you come to see me before?"
"I didn't think I should be wanted, Kitty," Jack answered quietly.
"You seemed to be so absorbed in your new life that old friends and
interests were crowded out."
"So I was at first," I answered penitently. "I was dazzled, you know.
The glare was too much for my Thrush Hill brown. But it's different
now. How did you happen to come, Jack?"
"I had to come to Montreal on business, and I thought it would be too
bad if I went back without coming to see what they had been doing in
Vanity Fair to my little playmate."
"Well, what do you think they have been doing?" I asked saucily.
I had on a particularly fetching gown and knew I was looking my best.
Jack, however, looked me over with his head on one side.
"Well, I don't know, Kitty," he said slowly. "That is a stunning sort
of dress you have on--not so pretty, though, as that old blue muslin
you used to wear last summer--and your hair is pretty good. But you
look rather disdainful and, after all, I believe I prefer Thrush Hill
Kitty."
How like Jack that was. He never thought me really pretty, and he is
too honest to pretend he does.
But I didn't care. I just laughed, and we sat down together and had a
long, delightful, chummy talk.
Jack told me all the Valleyfield gossip, not forgetting to mention
that Mary Carter was going to be married to a minister in June. Jack
didn't seem to mind it a bit, so I guess he couldn't have been
particularly interested in Mary.
In due time Alicia sailed in. I suppose she had found out from Bessie
who my caller was, and felt rather worried over the length of our
tete-a-tete.
She greeted Jack very graciously, but with a certain polite
condescension of which she is past mistress. I am sure Jack felt it,
for, as soon as he decently could, he got up to go. Alicia asked him
to remain to dinner.
"We are having a few friends to dine with us, but it is quite an
informal affair," she said sweetly.
I felt that Jack glanced at me for the fraction of a second. But I
remembered that Gus Sinclair was coming too, and I did not look at
him.
Then he declined quietly. He had a business engagement, he said.
I suppose Alicia had noticed that look at me, for she showed her
claws.
"Don't forget to call any time you are in Montreal," she said more
sweetly than ever. "I am sure Katherine will always be glad to see any
of her old friends, although some of her new ones _are_ proving very
absorbing--one, in especial. Don't blush, Katherine, I am sure Mr.
Willoughby won't tell any tales out of school to your old Valleyfield
friends."
I was not blushing, and I was furious. It was really too bad of
Alicia, although I don't see why I need have cared.
Alicia kept her eye on us both until Jack was fairly gone. Then she
remarked in the patronizing tone which I detest:
"Really, Katherine, Jack Willoughby has developed into quite a
passable-looking fellow, although he is rather shabby. But I suppose
he is poor."
"Yes," I answered curtly, "he is poor, in everything except youth and
manhood and goodness and truth! But I suppose those don't count for
anything."
Whereupon Alicia lifted her eyebrows and looked me over.
Just at dusk a box arrived with Jack's compliments. It was full of
lovely white carnations, and must have cost the extravagant fellow
more than he has any business to waste on flowers. I was beast enough
to put them on when I went down to listen to another man's
love-making.
This evening I sparkled and scintillated with unusual brilliancy, for
Jack's visit and my consequent crossing of swords with Alicia had
produced a certain elation of spirits. When Gus Sinclair was leaving
he asked if he might see me alone tomorrow afternoon.
I knew what that meant, and a cold shiver went up and down my
backbone. But I looked down at him--spick-and-span and glossy--_his_
neckties are never crooked--and said, yes, he might come at three
o'clock.
Alicia had noticed our aside--when did anything ever escape her?--and
when he was gone she asked, significantly, what secret he had been
telling me.
"He wants to see me alone tomorrow afternoon. I suppose you know what
that means, Alicia?"
"Ah," purred Alicia, "I congratulate you, my dear."
"Aren't your congratulations a little premature?" I asked coldly. "I
haven't accepted him yet."
"But you will?"
"Oh, certainly. Isn't it what we've schemed and angled for? I'm very
well satisfied."
And so I am. But I wish it hadn't come so soon after Jack's visit,
because I feel rather upset yet. Of course I like Gus Sinclair very
much, and I am sure I shall be very fond of him.
Well, I must go to bed now and get my beauty sleep. I don't want to be
haggard and hollow-eyed at that important interview tomorrow--an
interview that will decide my destiny.
* * * * *
Thrush Hill, May 6, 18--.
Well, it did decide it, but not exactly in the way I anticipated. I
can look back on the whole affair quite calmly now, but I wouldn't
live it over again for all the wealth of Ind.
That day when Gus Sinclair came I was all ready for him. I had put on
my very prettiest new gown to do honour to the occasion, and Alicia
smilingly assured me I was looking very well.
"And _so_ cool and composed. Will you be able to keep that up? Don't
you really feel a little nervous, Katherine?"
"Not in the least," I said. "I suppose I ought to be, according to
traditions, but I never felt less flustered in my life."
When Bessie brought up Gus Sinclair's card Alicia dropped a pecky
little kiss on my cheek, and pushed me toward the door. I went down
calmly, although I'll admit that my heart _was_ beating wildly. Gus
Sinclair was plainly nervous, but I was composed enough for both. You
would really have thought that I was in the habit of being proposed to
by a millionaire every day.
"I suppose you know what I have come to say," he said, standing before
me, as I leaned gracefully back in a big chair, having taken care that
the folds of my dress fell just as they should.
And then he proceeded to say it in a rather jumbled-up fashion, but
very sincerely.
I remember thinking at the time that he must have composed the speech
in his head the night before, and rehearsed it several times, but was
forgetting it in spots.
When he ended with the self-same question that Jack had asked me three
months before at Thrush Hill he stopped and took my hands.
I looked up at him. His good, homely face was close to mine, and in
his eyes was an unmistakable look of love and tenderness.