"BREAD CAST ON THE WATERS."
There were indeed long and heavy days for Katherine, few though they
were, before Mr. Newton thought it well to communicate the intelligence
to Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde. He wished to be able to extract some more
favorable terms from Liddell, so that his favorite client might fulfil
her ardent desire to keep her nephews still with her, and assist in
their maintenance and education. This was, in the shrewd old lawyer's
estimation, a most Quixotic project, but he saw it was the only idea
which enabled her to bear the extreme distress caused by the prospect of
returning the poor children on their mother's hands.
A period of uncertainty is always trying, and the reflection that the
present crisis was the result of her unfortunate infringement of the
unalterable law of right and wrong overwhelmed her with a sense of
guilt. Had she not meddled with the matter, no doubt such a man as
Errington would, were the case properly represented to him, have given
some portion of the wealth bequeathed him to the family of the testator.
But how could she have foreseen? True; but she might have resisted the
temptation to deviate from the straight path. "She might!" What an abyss
of endless regret yawns at the sound of those words, used in the sense
of too late!
This was a hard worldly trouble over which she could not weep. Over and
over again she told herself that nothing should part her from the boys,
that she would devote her life to repair as far as possible the injury
she had done them. And Ada, would she also suffer for her (Katherine's)
sins? But while brooding constantly on these miserable thoughts she kept
a brave front, quiet and steady, though Miss Payne saw that her
composure hid a good deal of suffering.
It was more, however, than Katherine's resolution could accomplish to
keep a few evening engagements which she had made. "I should feel too
great an impostor," she said. "How thankful I shall be when the murder
is out and the nine days' wonder over! Have you any commissions, dear
Miss Payne? I want an object to take me out, and I feel I must not mope
in-doors."
"No, I cannot say I have any shopping to do, and I am obliged to go into
the City myself. Take a steady round of Kensington Gardens; it is quite
mild and bright to-day. I shall not return till six, I am afraid."
So Katherine went out alone immediately after luncheon, before the world
and his wife had time to get abroad. She had made a circuit of the
ornamental water, and was returning by the footpath near the sunk fence
which separates the Gardens from the Park, when she recognized De Burgh
coming toward her. He had been in her thoughts at the moment; for,
feeling that it was quite likely he had been considered a suitor, she
was anxious to give him an opportunity of making an honorable retreat
before society found out that the sceptre of wealth had slipped from her
hand.
"Pray is this the way you cure a cold?" he asked, abruptly. "Last night
Lady Mary Vincent informed me that you had staid at home to nurse a
cold. This morning I call to enquire for the interesting invalid, and
find she is out in the cool February air."
"It is very mild, and it is at night the air is dangerous," returned
Katherine, smiling.
"Now I look at you, I don't think you look so blooming as usual. May I
go back with you and pay my visit of condolence, in spite of having left
my card?"
"Yes," said Katherine, with sudden decision. "I want to speak to you."
"Indeed!"--with a keen, eager look. "This is something new. May I ask--"
"No; not until we are in Miss Payne's drawing-room."
"You alarm me. Could it be possible that you, peerless as you are, have
got into a scrape?"
"Well, I think I can say I have," said Katherine, smiling.
"Great heavens! this is delightful."
"Let us talk of something else."
"By all means. Will you hear some gossip? I don't often retail any, but
I fancy you'll be amused and interested to know that Lady Alice Mordaunt
is really going to marry that brewer fellow. You remember I told you
what I thought was going on last autumn."
"Is it possible?" cried Katherine. "Imagine her so soon forgetting Mr.
Errington!"
"And why should not that immaculate individual be exempt from the usual
fate of man?"
"I don't know--except that he is not an ordinary man."
"No; certainly not. He is an extraordinary fellow; but I must say he has
shown great staying power in his late difficulties. They tell me he has
been revenging himself by writing awful problems, political and
critical, which require a forty-horse intellectual power to understand."
And De Burgh talked on, seeing that his companion was disinclined to
speak until they reached Miss Payne's house.
Katherine took off her hat and warm cloak with some deliberation,
thinking how best to approach her subject. Pushing back her hair, which
had become somewhat disordered from its own weight, she sat down on an
ottoman, and raising her eyes to De Burgh, who stood on the hearth-rug,
said, slowly, "I have a secret to tell you which you must keep for a few
weeks."
"For an eternity, if you will trust me," he returned, in low, earnest
tones, his dark eyes fixed upon her, as if trying to read her heart.
"Well, then, my uncle's son and heir, whom we believed to be dead, has
suddenly reappeared, and of course takes the fortune I have been, let us
_say_, enjoying."
De Burgh did not reply at once; his eyes continued to search her face as
if to discover some hidden meaning.
"Do you mean me to take you seriously, Miss Liddell?"
"Quite. Moreover, I fear my cousin means to demand the arrears of
income--income which I have spent."
"But the fellow must be an impostor. Your man of business, Newton, will
never yield to his demands. He must prove his case."
"I think he has proved it. Mr. Newton recognized him at the first
glance; and he bears a strong resemblance to his father. I feel he is
the man he asserts himself to be."
"Do you intend to give up without a struggle? What account does this
intruder give of himself?"
Katherine gave him a brief sketch of the story, speaking with firmness
and composure.
"What an infernal shame!" cried De Burgh, when she ceased speaking. "I
wish I had had a chance of sending a bullet through his head, and as
sure as there is a devil down below I'd have verified the report of his
death! Why, what is to be done?"
"I still faintly hope Mr. Newton may persuade him to forego his first
demand for the restoration of those moneys I have spent. If so, I am not
quite penniless, and can hope to-- At all events, I thought it but right
to give you early information, as--"
"Why?" interrupted De Burgh (for she hesitated), throwing himself on the
ottoman and leaning against the arm which divided the seats, till his
long dark mustaches nearly touched the coils of her hair. "Why?" he
repeated, as she did not answer immediately. "I know well enough. It is
your loyalty that makes you wish to open a way of escape to the friend
who is credited with seeking your fortune. I see it all."
"You can assign any motive you like, Mr. De Burgh, but I thought--I
wished--I believed it better to let you know; for I shall always
consider you my friend, even if we do not meet," said Katherine, a good
deal unhinged by the excitement and distress he displayed.
"Meet? why, of course we shall meet! Do you think anything in heaven or
earth would make me give up the attempt, hopeless as it may seem, to win
you? I know you don't care a rap for me now, but I cannot, dare not
despair. I've too much at stake. There is the awful sting of this
misfortune. Even if you, by some blessed intervention of Providence,
were ready to marry me, I don't see how I could drag you into such a sea
of trouble. Besides, there's old De Burgh; he must be kept in
good-humor. By Heaven! this miserable want of money is the most utter
degradation--irresistible, enslaving. I feel like a beaten cur. I am
tied hand and foot. Had I not been such a reckless idiot, why, your
misfortunes might have been my best chance. I dare say that sounds
shabby enough, but I like to let you see what I am, good and bad;
besides, I am ready to do _anything_, right or wrong, to win you."
"Ah, Mr. De Burgh, no crookedness ever succeeds. And then I do not
deserve that you should think so much or care so much for me, for I do
not wish to marry you or any one. My plan of life is framed on quite
different lines. Do put me out of your mind, and think of your own
fortunes. Do not vex Lord De Burgh; but oh! pray give up racing and
gambling. You know I really do like you, not exactly in the way you
wish, but it adds greatly to my troubles (for I am very sorry to lose my
fortune, I assure you) to see you so--so disturbed."
"If you look at me so kindly with those sweet wet eyes I shall lose my
head," cried De Burgh, who was already beside himself, for the gulf
which had suddenly yawned between him and the woman he coveted seemed to
grow wider as he looked at it. "I am the most unlucky devil in
existence, and I have brought _you_ ill luck. I should have kept away
from you, for you are a hundred thousand times too good for me; but as I
_have_ thrown myself headlong into the delicious pain of loving you,
won't you give me a chance? Promise to wait for me: a week, a day, may
see me wealthy, and I swear I will strive to be worthy too: why were
those bush-rangers such infernally bad-shots?--and I can be no use to
you whatever?"
"But I have many kind friends, Mr. De Burgh. You must not distress
yourself about me. I am not frightened, I assure you. Now I have told
you everything, don't you think you would better go?" She rose as she
spoke, and held out her hand.
"Better for you, yes, but not for me. Look here, Katherine, don't banish
me. I am obliged to go with old De Burgh to Paris. He is making for
Cannes again, and asked me to come so far. Of course he has a chain
round my neck. I must obey orders like his bond-slave, but when I come
back--don't banish me. I swear I'll be an unobtrusive friend, and I may
be of use. Don't send me quite away; in short, I won't take a dismissal.
What is it you object to? What absurd stories have been told you to set
you against me? Other women have liked me well enough."
"I have no doubt you deserve to be loved, Mr. De Burgh, but there are
feelings that, like the wind, blow where they list; we cannot tell
whence they come or whither they go. I am sorry I do not love you,
but--I am very tired. If you care to come and see me when you come back,
come _if_ I have any place in which to receive you."
"If I write, will you answer my letters?"
"Oh no; don't write; I would rather you did not."
"I am a brute to keep you when you look so white; I'll go. Good-by for
the present--only for the present, you dear, sweet woman!" He kissed her
hand twice and went quickly out of the room.
Katherine heaved a sigh of relief. The degree of liking she had for De
Burgh made her feel greatly distressed at having been obliged to give
him pain. Yet she was not by any means disposed to trust him; his
restless eagerness to gratify every whim and desire as it came to him,
the kind of harshness which made him so indifferent to the feelings and
opinions of those who opposed him--this was very repellent to
Katherine's more considerate and sympathetic nature. Besides, and above
all, De Burgh was not Errington; and it needs no more to explain why the
former, who had no reason hitherto to complain of the coldness of women,
found the only one he had ever loved with a high order of affection
untouched by his wooing.
The day after this interview Katherine, accompanied by Miss Payne, went
down to Sandbourne to interview the principal of the boys' school, to
explain the state of affairs, to give notice that she should be obliged
to remove them, and to pay in advance for the time they were to remain.
The visit was full of both pain and pleasure. The genuine delight of the
children on seeing her unexpectedly, their joy at being permitted to go
out to walk with her, their innocent talk, and the castles in the air
which they erected in the firm conviction that they were to have horses
and dogs, man-servants and maid-servants, all the days of their lives,
touched her heart. The principal gave a good account of both. Cecil was,
he said, erratic and excitable in no common degree, but though
troublesome, he was truthful and straightforward, while Charlie promised
to develop qualities of no common order. He entered with a very friendly
spirit into the anxiety of the young aunt, whose motherly tenderness for
her nephews touched him greatly. He gave her some valuable advice, and
the address of two schools regulated to suit parents of small means, and
which he could safely recommend. By his suggestion nothing was said for
the present to Cis or Charlie regarding the impending change, lest they
should be unsettled.
"And shall we come to stay at Miss Payne's for the Easter holidays?"
cried the boys in chorus, as Katherine took leave of them the next day.
"I hope so, dears, but I am not sure."
"Then will you come down to Sandbourne? That would be jolly."
"I cannot promise, Cecil. We will see."
"But, auntie, we'll not have to go to Castleford?"
"Why? Would you not like to go?"
"No. Would you, Charlie? I don't like being there nearly so much as at
school. I don't like having dinner by ourselves, and yet I don't care to
dine with Colonel Ormonde; he is always in a wax."
"He does not mean to be cross," said Katherine, her heart sinking within
her. Should she be obliged to hand over the poor little helpless fellows
to the reluctant guardianship of their irritable step-father? This would
indeed be a pang. Was it for this she had broken the law, and marred the
harmony of her own moral nature?
"Well, my own dear, I will do the best I can for you, you may be quite
sure. Now you must let me go; I will come again as soon as I can." Cis
kissed her heartily, and scampered away to take his place in the
class-room, quite content with his school life. Charlie threw his arms
around his auntie's neck, and clung to her lovingly. But he too was
called away, and nothing remained for Katherine and her companion but to
make their way to the station and return to town.
This visit cost Katherine more than any other outcome of George
Liddell's reappearance. Her quick imagination depicted what the boys'
lives would be under the jurisdiction of their mother and her
husband--the worries, the suppression, the sense of being always naughty
and in the wrong, the different yet equally pernicious effect such
treatment would have on the brothers.
"This is the worst part of the business to you," said Miss Payne, when
they had reached home and sat down to a late tea together. "You look
like a ghost, or as if you had seen one. You will make yourself ill, and
really there is no need to do anything of the kind. Those children have
a mother who is very well off. I always thought it frightfully imprudent
of you to take those boys even when you had plenty of money. Now, of
course, when it is impossible for you to keep them, it is a bitter
wrench to part, but--"
"But I am not sure that we must part," interrupted Katherine, eagerly.
"Should my cousin be induced to forego his claims upon me for the income
I have expended, and I can find some means of maintaining myself, I
could still provide for their school expenses and keep them with me."
"Maintain yourself, my dear Katherine; it is easier said than done. You
are quite infatuated about those nephews of yours, and I dare say they
will give you small thanks."
"I know it is not easy for an untrained woman like myself to find
remunerative work, but I shall try. Here is a note from Mr. Newton
asking me to call on him to-morrow. Let us hope he will have some good
news, though I cannot help fearing he would have told me in this if he
had."
It was with a sickening sensation of uneasy hope shot with dark streaks
of fear that Katherine started to keep her appointment with Mr. Newton.
Eager to begin her economy at once, Katherine took an omnibus instead of
indulging in a brougham or a cab. She could not help smiling at her own
sense of helpless discomfort when a fat woman almost sat down upon her,
and the conductor told her to look sharp when the vehicle stopped to let
her alight; as she reflected that barely three years ago she considered
an omnibus rather a luxury, and that it was a matter of careful
calculation how many pennies might be saved by walking to certain points
whence one could travel at a reduced fare. How easily are luxurious and
self-indulgent habits formed! Well, she had done with them forever now;
nor would anything seem a hardship were she but permitted to repair in
some measure the evil she had wrought.
She found Mr. Newton awaiting her with evident impatience. "Well, my
dear Miss Liddell," he said, "I have been most anxious to see you,
though I have not much that is cheering to communicate. I have had
several interviews with your cousin, but he seems still unaccountably
hard and vindictive. However, as I am, of course, _your_ adviser, he has
been obliged to seek another solicitor, and I am happy to say he has
fallen into good hands, and that by a sort of lucky chance."
"How?" asked Katherine, who was looking pale and feeling in the depths.
"Well, a few days ago a gentleman called here to ask me for the address
of a former client of whom I have heard nothing for years. I think you
know or have met this gentleman--Mr. Errington."
"I do," cried Katherine, now all attention.
"While we were speaking Mr. Liddell was announced. Errington looked at
him hard, and then asked politely if he were the son of the late Mr.
John Liddell, who had been a great friend of his (Errington's) father.
Your cousin seemed to know the name, and, moreover, very pleased at
being spoken to and remembered. Mr. Errington offered to call, and now I
find he has recommended his own solicitors, Messrs. Compton & Barnes, to
George Liddell. I had an interview with the head of the firm yesterday,
and he has evidently advised that the strictly legal claims against you
should not be pressed. I cannot help thinking that Mr. Errington has
interested himself on your side."
"Indeed!" cried Katherine, life and warmth coming back to her heart at
his words.
"Yes, I do. Compton appears to have the highest possible opinion of
Errington as a man of integrity and intelligence. He, Compton says,
believes that if Liddell could be persuaded such a line of conduct
toward you would injure him socially, he would not seek to enforce his
rights, for he is evidently anxious to make a position in the
respectable world. As you make no opposition to his claims he ought to
show you consideration. This accidental encounter between Errington and
your cousin will, I am sure, prove a fortunate circumstance."
In her own mind Katherine could not help doubting its accidental
character. How infinitely good and forgiving Errington was! While she
thought, Mr. Newton mused.
"I suppose you have a tolerable balance at the bank?" he said, abruptly.
"Yes. I have never spent a year's income in a year. Just lately, except
for buying that house, I have spent very little."
"That house! Oh--ah! I shall be curious to see how Miss Trant will
behave. If she is true to her word; if she looks upon your loan to her
as a loan--an investment on your side--you may gain an addition to your
income through what was an act of pure benevolence. When you go home, my
dear young lady, look at your bank-book, and let me know exactly how you
stand. We might offer this cormorant of a cousin a portion of your
savings to finish the business. Indeed I should advise you to draw a
good large check at once so as to provide yourself with ready money."
"Would it be quite--quite honest to do so?" asked Katherine, anxiously.
"Pray do you impugn my integrity?"
"No! But suppose George Liddell found I had drawn a large check--perhaps
the very day before I propose through you to hand over what remains to
me--he would think me a cheat?"
"And pray why should he know anything about your bank-book? or what
consideration do you owe him? He is behaving very harshly and badly to
you. We will state what is in the bank after you have drawn your check,
and offer him half--which is a great deal too much for him. Yet I should
like him to be your friend, if possible. Could you get hold of that
little girl of his? Affection for her seems to be the only human thing
about him."
"I think I should rather have nothing to do with him," murmured
Katherine.
"Well, well, we will see. Now, though we have not succeeded in coming to
any settlement with Liddell, I believe we ought not to leave Mrs.
Ormonde any longer in ignorance respecting the change which has taken
place."
"No, I am sure they ought to know. I have been troubling myself about
both the Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde," said Katherine. "This is what I
dread most." And she sighed.
"I do not see why you need. I am sure you acted with noble liberality to
Mrs. Ormonde and her boys when you thought you were the rightful owner
of the property."
"The rightful owner," repeated Katherine, with a thrill of pain. "It has
been an unfortunate ownership to me."
"It has--it has indeed, my dear young lady, but we must see how to help
you at this juncture. If Miss Trant behaves as she ought, we must put a
little more capital in that concern if it is as thriving as you believe.
It may turn out very useful to you."
"I have not seen her since my cousin came to life again, for I could not
see her and keep back my strange story. May I tell her now?"
"Certainly. It was from Colonel and Mrs. Ormonde I wished to keep back
the disastrous news till some agreement should be come to."
"You must not call my cousin's return to life and country disastrous,"
said Katherine, smiling. "I am sure, if he will only give me the chance
of keeping my boys with me, I am quite ready to welcome him to both. Now
I shall leave you, for I want to send away my letter to Ada this
evening, and it is a difficult letter to write."
"I have no doubt you will state your case clearly and well," returned
Mr. Newton, rising to shake hands with her. "Let me hear what Mrs.
Ormonde says in reply; and see your protegee, Miss Trant. I am anxious
to learn her views."
"I am quite sure I know what they will be," said Katherine.
"Don't be too sure. Human nature is a very crooked thing--more crooked
than a true heart like yours can imagine," continued the old man,
holding her hand kindly.
"Ah, Mr. Newton," she cried, with an irresistible outburst of penitence,
"you little know what crooked things I can imagine."
"Can't I?" he said laughing at what he fancied was her little joke, and
glad to see her bearing her troubles so lightly. "You'll come all right
yet, my dear; you have the right spirit. Is your carriage waiting?"
"Not here; but in Holborn I have several at my command," she returned.
"Good-by; no, you must not come downstairs; it is damp and chilly."
On reaching her home, the home she must so soon resign, Katherine sent a
note to Rachel Trant asking if she had a spare hour that evening, as
she, Katherine, had something to tell her, and preferred going to her
house. Then she sat down to write a full and detailed account of what
had taken place to her sister-in-law. It was dusk before she had
finished and she herself felt considerably exhausted. Miss Payne had
gone out to dine with one of her former girls, now the wife of a rackety
horsy man, whose conduct made her often look back with a sigh of regret
to the tranquil days passed under the guardianship of the prudent
spinster; so having partaken of tea at their usual dinner-time she sat
and mused awhile on the one subject from which she could derive
comfort--Errington and his wonderful kindness to her. If he took the
matter in hand she thought herself safe. Her confidence in him was
unbounded. Ah! why had she placed such a gulf between them? How she had
destroyed her own life! There was but one tie between her and the world,
little Charlie and Cis, and perhaps she had been their greatest enemy.
She almost wished she could love De Burgh. He was undoubtedly in
earnest; he interested her; he--But no. Between her and any possible
husband she had reared the insurmountable barrier of a secret not to be
shared by any save one, from whom, somehow, instead of dividing her, had
bound her indissolubly; at least she felt it to be so.
It was near the hour she had fixed to call on Rachel, so she roused
herself, and asking the amiable Francois to accompany her, started for
Malden Street.
Rachel Trant had made a back parlor, designated the "trying-on" room,
bright and cosy, with a shaded lamp, a red fire, a couple of easy-chairs
at either side of it, and a gay cloth over the small round table erst
strewn with fashion books, measuring tapes, pins, patterns and
pin-cushions.
"How very good of you to come to me!" cried Miss Trant, hastening to
divest her friend of bonnet and cloak. "I am very curious to hear the
story you have to tell." Then, as Katherine sat down where the
lamp-light fell upon her face, she added, "But you are not looking well,
Miss Liddell; your eyes look heavy; your mouth is sad."
"I am troubled, more than sad," said Katherine; "the why and wherefore I
have come to tell you."
"Yes; tell me everything." And Rachel took a low seat opposite her
guest; her usually pale face was slightly flushed, her large blue eyes
darkened with the pleasure of seeing the friend she loved so warmly and
the interest with which she awaited her disclosure, and as Katherine
looked at her she realized how pretty and attractive she must have been
before the fresh grace of her girlhood had been withered by the cruel
fires of passion and despair. "I am listening," said Rachel, gently, to
recall her visitor, whose thoughts were evidently far away.
"Yes; I had forgotten." And Katherine began her story.
Rachel Trant listened with rapt, intense attention, nor did she
interrupt the narrative by a single question.
When Katherine ceased to speak she remained silent for a second or two
longer: then she asked, "Are you convinced of the truth of this man's
story?"
"I am, for Mr. Newton does not seem to have a doubt. Oh! he is my uncle
John's only son--only child, indeed--and he is like him. I always
fancied from the little my uncle said about George that he was naturally
kind and sympathetic, but he has had a hard life, and it has made him
hard. The loss of his mother was a terrible misfortune."
"Was he young when she died?"
"He was about fourteen, I think; but he lost her by a worse misfortune
than death. She was driven away by my uncle's severity and harshness;
she left him for another."
"What! left her son?"
"Yes--it seems incredible--nor does my cousin resent her desertion. On
the contrary, all the affection and softness in him appears to centre
round his daughter and the memory of his mother."
"Then," said Rachel, "if this man persists in demanding his rights, you
will be beggared, and those dear boys must go back to their mother. They
will not be too welcome."
"Oh no! no! I feel that only too keenly."
"But you will not be penniless nor homeless," cried Rachel. "He cannot
touch this house. You made it over to me, and I will use it for you.
There are two nice rooms I can arrange for you upstairs. I am doing
well, and if I had but a little more capital, I should not fear; I
should not doubt making a great success. My dear, dearest Miss Liddell,
I may be of use to you, after all. Tell me, is this Mr. Newton truly
interested in you--anxious to help you?"
"I am sure he is; he is very unhappy about me."
"Do you think he would let me call on him? I want to tell him the plans
that are coming into my head. I can explain all the business part to
him. If I can get through this year without debt, I am pretty sure of
providing you with an income--an increasing income. This is a joy I
never anticipated. And then you can keep your little nephews, and be a
real mother to them. I don't want to trouble you with the business
details of my plan; you would not understand them. But Mr. Newton will.
Pray write a line asking him to see me, to name his own time. Stay; here
are paper and pen and ink; ask him to write to me. He knows--he knows my
story. At least--" She stopped, coloring crimson.
"He knows all it is needful for me to tell," said Katherine, gravely.
"Yes, Rachel, it is better to explain all to him. He is kind and wise,
and I am strangely stupefied by this extraordinary overturn of my
fortunes. I shall be glad of your help, but do not neglect your own
future, dear Rachel."
"I shall not: I shall make enough for us both. You have indeed given me
something to live for."