The memories of her slight friendship with the Leighs--slight in the
rareness of their meetings--grew and grew as the days passed on, till
Kate Wilton found herself constantly thinking of the brother and sister
she had left at Northwood. Jenny's bright face was always obtruding
itself, seeming to laugh from the pages of the dull old German book over
which she pored; and it became a habit in her solitary life to sit and
dream and think over it, as it slowly seemed to change; the merry eyes
grew calm and grave, the broad forehead broader, till, though the
similarity was there, it was the face of the brother, and she would
close the book with a startled feeling of annoyance, feeling ready to
upbraid herself for her want of modesty--so she put it--in thinking so
much of one of whom she knew so little.
At such times she began to suffer from peculiar little nervous fits of
irritation, which were followed by long dreamy thoughts which troubled
her more than ever, respecting what the Leighs would think of her
flight.
Music, long talks with Sarah Plant, efforts to try and draw out poor
Becky, everything she could think of to take her attention and employ
her mind, were tried vainly. The faces of the brother and sister would
obtrude more and more, as her nervous fretfulness increased, and rapidly
now the natural struggle against her long imprisonment increased.
She tried hard to conceal it from Garstang, and believed that he did not
notice it, but it was too plain. Her efforts to appear cheerful and
bright at breakfast time and when he came back at night, grew forced and
painful; and under his calm smiling demeanour and pleasant chatty way of
talking to her about current events, he was bracing himself for the
encounter which he knew might have to take place at any moment.
It was longer than he anticipated, but was suddenly sprung upon him one
evening after an agonising day, when again and again Kate had had to
fight hard to master the fierce desire to get away from the terrible
solitude which seemed to crush her down.
She knew that she was unwell from the pressure of her solitary life upon
her nerves; the thoughts which troubled her magnified themselves; and
now with terrible force came the insistent feeling that she had behaved
like a weak child in not bravely maintaining her position at her uncle's
house, and forcing him to fulfill his duty of protector to his brother's
child.
"Is it too late? Am I behaving like a child now?" she asked herself,
and at last with a wild outburst of excitement she determined that her
present life must end.
She had calmed down a little just before Garstang returned that evening,
and the recollection of his chivalrous treatment and fatherly attention
to her lightest wants made her shrink from declaring that in spite of
everything she must have some change; for, as she had told herself in
her fit of excitement that afternoon, if she did not she would go mad.
She was very quiet during dinner, and he carefully avoided interrupting
the fits of thoughtfulness in which from time to time she was plunged,
but an hour later, when he came after her to the library from his glass
of wine, he saw that her brows were knit and that the expected moment
had come.
"Tired, my dear?" he said, as he subsided into his easy chair.
"Very, Mr Garstang," she said, quickly; and the excited look in her
eyes intensified.
"Well, I don't like parting from you, my child," he said; "I have grown
so used to your bright conversation of an evening, and it is so restful
to me, but I must not be selfish. Go to bed when you feel so disposed.
It is the weather, I think. The glass is very low."
"No," said Kate quickly, "it is not that; it is this miserable suspense
which is preying upon me. Oh, guardian, guardian, when is all this
dreadful life of concealment to come to an end?"
"Soon, my child, soon. But try and be calm; you have been so brave and
good up to now; don't let us run risks when we are so near success."
"You have spoken to me like that so often, and--and I can bear it no
longer. I must, at any risk now, have it put an end to."
"Ah!" he sighed, with a sad look; "I am not surprised to hear you talk
so. You have done wonders. I would rather have urged you to be patient
a little longer, my dear, but I agree with you; it is more than a bright
young girl can be expected to bear. I have noticed it, though you have
made such efforts to conceal it; the long imprisonment is telling upon
your health, and makes you fretful and impatient."
"And I have tried so hard not to be," she cried, full of repentance now.
"My poor little girl, yes, you have," he said, reaching forward to take
and pat her hand. "Well, give me a few hours to think what will be best
to do, and then we will decide whether to declare war against James
Wilton and cover ourselves with the shield of the law, or go right away
for a change. You will give me a few hours, my dear, say till this time
to-morrow?"
"Oh, yes," she said, with a sigh of relief. "Pray forgive me; I cannot
help all this."
"I know, I know," he said, smiling. "By the way, to-morrow is my
birthday; you must try and celebrate it a little for me."
She looked at him wonderingly.
"I mean, make Sarah Plant prepare an extra dinner, and I will bring home
plenty of fruit and flowers; and after dinner we will discuss our plans
and strike for freedom. Ah, my dear, it will be a great relief to me,
for I have been growing very, very anxious about you. Too tired to give
me a little music?"
"No, indeed, no," she said eagerly. "Your words have given me more
relief than I can tell."
"That's right," he said, "but to be correct, I ought to ask you to read
to me, to be in accord with the poem. But no, let it be one of my
favourite songs, and in that way,
"`The night shall be filled with music,
And the cares which infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.'"
"Longer than I expected," said Garstang, as she left him that night for
her own room. "Now let us see."
In accordance with his wish, Kate tried to quell the excitement within
her breast by entering eagerly into the preparations for the evening's
repast, but the next day passed terribly slowly, and she uttered a sigh
of relief when the hands of the clock pointed to Garstang's hour of
returning.
He came in, smiling and content, laden with flowers and fruit, part of
the former taking the shape of a beautiful bouquet of lilies, which he
handed to her with a smile.
"There," he cried; "aren't they sweet? I believe, after all, that
Covent Garden is the best garden in the world. I'm as pleased as a
child over my birthday. Here, Mrs Plant, take this fruit, and let us
have it for dessert."
The housekeeper came at his call, and smiled as she took the basket he
had brought in his cab, shaking her head sadly as she went down again.
"Hah!" ejaculated Garstang; "and I must have an extra glass of wine in
honour of the occasion. It is all right, my dear," he whispered, with a
great show of mystery. "Plans made, cut and dried. We'll have them
over with the dessert."
Kate gave him a grateful look, and took up and pressed her bouquet to
her lips, while Garstang went to a table drawer and took out a key.
"You have never seen the wine cellar, my dear. Come down with me. It
is capitally stored, but rather wasted upon me."
He went into the hall and lit a chamber candle, returning directly.
"Ready?" he said, as she followed him down the dark stairs to the
basement, Becky being seen for a moment flitting before them into the
gloom, just as Garstang stopped at a great iron-studded door, and picked
up a small basket from a table on the other side of the passage.
The door was unlocked, and opened with a groan, and Garstang handed his
companion the candlestick.
"Don't you come in," he said; "the sawdust is damp, and young ladies
don't take much interest in bottles of wine. But they are interesting
to middle-aged men, my dear," he continued as he walked in, his voice
sounding smothered and dull. Then came the chink of a bottle, which he
placed in the wine basket, and he went on to a bin farther in.
"Don't come," he cried; "I can see. That's right. Our party to-night
is small," and he came out with the two bottles he had fetched, stamped
the sawdust off his feet, re-locked the door, and led the way upstairs,
conveying the wine into the dining-room.
Ten minutes later they were seated at the table, and Garstang opened the
bottle of champagne he had fetched himself.
"There, my dear," he said; "you must drink my health on this my
birthday," and in spite of her declining, he insisted. "Oh, you must
not refuse," he said. "And, as people say, it will do you good, for you
really are low and in need of a stimulus."
The result was that she did sip a little of the sparkling wine, with the
customary compliments, and the dinner passed off pleasantly enough. At
last she rose to go.
"I will not keep you long, my dear," he said. "Just my customary glass
of claret, and by that time my thoughts will be in order, and I can give
you my full news."
Kate went into the library, growing moment by moment more excited, and
trying hard to control her longing to hear Garstang's plans, which were
to end the terrible life of care. It seemed as if he would never come,
and he did not until some time after the housekeeper had brought in the
tea things and urn.
"At last," she said, drawing a deep breath full of relief, for there was
a step in the hall, the dining-room door was heard to close, and
directly after Garstang entered, and she involuntarily rose from her
seat, feeling startled by her new guardian's manner, though she could
not have explained the cause.
"I have been growing so impatient," she said hastily, as he came to
where she stood.
"Not more so than I," he said; and she fancied for the moment that there
was a strange light in his eyes.
But she drove away the thought as absurd.
"Now," she cried; "I am weary with waiting. You have devised a way of
ending this terrible suspense?"
"I have," he said, taking her hands in his; and she resigned them
without hesitation.
"Pray tell me then, at once. What will you do?"
"Make you my darling little wife," he whispered passionately; and he
clasped her tightly in his arms.