XIII

But next morning at Blackpool Kate woke up languid, and seeing Dick fast

asleep, she thought it would be a pity to awaken him, and twisting her

pretty legs out of bed, she went into the sitting-room, with the intention

of looking after Dick's breakfast, and found it laid out on the round table

in the rose-coloured sitting-room, the napery of exceeding whiteness. The

two armchairs drawn by the quietly burning fire inspired indolence, and

tempted at once by the freshness of her dressing-gown and the warmth of the

room, she fell into a sort of happy reverie, from which she awoke in a few

minutes prompted by a desire to see Dick; to see him asleep; to awaken him;

to talk to him; to upbraid him for his laziness. The room, full of the

intimacy of their life, enchanted her, and half in shame, half in delight,

she affected to arrange the pillows while he buttoned his collar. When this

was accomplished she led him triumphantly to the breakfast table, and with

one arm resting on his knees watched the white shapes of the eggs seen

through the bubbling water. This was the great business of the morning. He

would pay twopence apiece to have fresh eggs, and was most particular that

they should be boiled for three minutes, and not one second more. The

landlady brought up the beefsteak and the hot milk for the coffee, and if

any friend came in orders were sent down instantly for more food. Such

extravagance could not fail to astonish Kate, accustomed as she had been

from her earliest years to a strict and austere mode of life. Frequently

she begged of Dick to be more economical, but having always lived

Bohemian-like on the money easily gained, he paid very little attention to

what she said, beyond advising her to eat more steak and put colour into

her cheeks. And once the ice of habit was broken, she likewise began to

abandon herself thoroughly to the pleasures of these rich warm breakfasts,

and to look forward to the idle hours of digestion which followed, and the

happy dreams that could then be indulged in. Before the tea-things were

removed Dick opened the morning paper, and from time to time read aloud

scraps of whatever news he thought interesting. These generally concerned

the latest pieces produced in London; and, as if ignorant of the fact that

she knew nothing of what he was speaking of, he explained to her his views

on the subject--why such and such plays would, and others would not, do for

the country. Kate listened with riveted attention, although she only

understood half of what was told her, and the flattery of being taken into

his confidence was a soft and fluttering joy. In these moments all fear

that he would one day desert her died away like an ugly wind; and, with the

noise of the town drumming dimly in the distance, they abandoned themselves

to the pleasure of thinking of each other. Dick congratulated himself on

the choice he had made, and assured himself that he would never know again

the ennui of living alone. She was one of the prettiest women you could see

anywhere, and, luckily, not too exacting. In fact, she hadn't a fault if it

weren't that she was a bit cold, and he couldn't understand how it was;

women were not generally cold with him. The question interested him

profoundly, and as he considered it his glance wandered from the loose blue

masses of hair to the white satin shoe which she held to the red blaze.

'Dick, do you think you'll always love me as you do now?'

'I'm sure of it, dear.'

'It seems to me, if one really loves once one must love always. But I don't

know how I can talk to you like this, for how can you respect me? I've been

so very wicked.'

'What nonsense, Kate! How can you talk like that? I wouldn't respect you if

you went on living with a man you didn't care about.'

'Well, I liked him well enough till you came, dear, but I couldn't then--it

wasn't all my fault; but if you should cease to care for me I think I

should die. But you won't; tell me that you won't, dear Dick.'

At that moment the door opened; it was Montgomery come to see them. Kate

jumped off Dick's knees, and, settling her skirts with the pretty movement

of a surprised woman, threw herself into a chair on the opposite side of

the fireplace. The musician had come to speak about his opera, especially

the opening chorus, about which he could not make up his mind.

'My boy,' said Dick, 'don't be afraid of making it too long. There's

nothing like having a good strong number to begin with--something with grip

in it, you know.'

Montgomery looked vaguely into space; he was obviously not listening, but

was trying to follow out some musical scheme that was running in his head.

After a long silence he said:

'What I can't make up my mind about is whether I ought to concert that

first number or have it sung in unison. Now listen. The scene is the

wedding festivities of Prince Florimel, who is about to wed Eva, the

daughter of the Duke of Perhapsburg--devilish good name, you know. Well

then, the flower-girls come on first, scattering flowers; they proceed two

by two and arrange themselves in line on both sides of the stage. They are

followed by trumpeters and a herald; then come the ladies-in-waiting, the

pages, the courtiers, and the palace servants. Very well; the first four

lines, you know--"Hail! hail! the festive day"--that, of course, is sung

by the sopranos.'

'You surely don't want to concert that, do you?' interrupted Dick.

'Of course not; you must think me an ignoramus. The first four lines are

sung naturally in unison; then there is a repeat, in which the tenors and

basses are singing against the women's voices. By that time the stage will

be full. Well, then, what I'm thinking of doing, when I get to the second

part, you know--"May the stars much pleasure send you, may romance and love

attend you," is to repeat "May the stars."'

'Oh, I see what you mean,' said Dick, who began to grow interested. You'll

give "May the stars" first to the sopranos, and then repeat with the tenors

and basses?'

'That's it. I'll show you,' replied Montgomery, rushing to the piano. 'Here

are the sopranos singing in G, "May the stars"; tenors, "May the stars";

tenors and sopranos, "Much pleasure send you"; basses an octave lower, "May

the stars--may stars." Now I'm going to join them together--"May the

Stars."'

Twisting round rapidly on the piano-stool, Montgomery pushed his glasses

high up on his beak-like nose, and demanded an opinion. But before Dick

could say a word a kick of the long legs brought the musician again face to

the keyboard, and for several minutes he crashed away, occasionally

shouting forth an explanatory remark, or muttering an apology when he

failed to reach the high soprano notes. The lovesong, however, was too much

for him, and, laughing at his own breakdown, he turned from the piano and

consented to resume the interrupted conversation. Then the plot and musical

setting of Montgomery's new work was discussed. The names of Offenbach and

Hervé were mentioned; both were admitted to be geniuses, but the latter, it

was declared, would have been the greater had he had the advantage of a

musical education. Various anecdotes were related as to how the latter had

achieved his first successes, and Montgomery, who questioned the

possibility of a man who could not write down the notes being able to

compose the whole score of an opera, maintained it was ridiculous to talk

of dictating a finale.

Kate often asked herself if she would ever be able to take part in these

artistic discussions; she was afraid not. Even when she succeeded in

picking up the thread of an idea, it soon got tangled with another, and she

began to fear she would never know why Hervé was a better composer than

Offenbach, and why a certain quintette was written on classical lines and

such-like. She asked Montgomery to explain things to her, but he was more

anxious to speak of his own music, and when the names of the ladies of the

company were being run over in search of one who could take the part of a

page, with a song and twenty lines of dialogue to speak, Dick said:

'Well, perhaps it isn't for me to say it, but I assure you that I don't

know a nicer soprano voice than Mrs. Ede's.'

'Ho, ho!' cried Montgomery, twisting his legs over the arm of the chair,

'how is it I never heard of this before? But won't you sing something, Mrs.

Ede? If you have any of your songs here I'll try the accompaniment over.'

Kate, who did not know a crotchet from a semiquaver, grew frightened at

this talk of trying over accompaniments, and tried to stammer out some

apologies and excuses.

'Oh, really, Mr. Montgomery, I assure you Dick is only joking. I don't sing

at all--I don't know anything about music.'

'Don't you mind her; 'tis as I say: she's got a very nice soprano voice;

and as for an ear, I never knew a better in my life. There's no singing

flat there, I can tell you. But, seriously speaking,' he continued, taking

pity on Kate, whose face expressed the agony of shame she was suffering,

'of course I know well enough she don't know how to produce her voice; she

never had a lesson in her life, but I think you'll agree with me, when you

hear it, that the organ is there. Do sing something, Kate.'

Kate cast a beseeching glance at her lover, and murmured some

unintelligible words, but they did not save her. Montgomery crossed himself

over the stool, and, after running his fingers over the keys, said:

'Now, sing the scale after me--do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, la--that's the

note; try to get that clear--sol, do!' and Kate, not liking to disoblige

Dick, sang the scale after Montgomery in the first instance, and then,

encouraged by her success, gave it by herself, first in one octave and then

in the other. 'Well, don't you agree with me?' said Dick. 'The organ is

there, and there's no fluffing the notes; they come out clear, don't they?'

'They do indeed,' replied Montgomery, casting a warm glance of admiration

at Kate; 'but I should so much like to hear Mrs. Ede sing a song.'

'Oh, I really couldn't--'

'Nonsense! Sing the song of "The Bells" in the _Cloches_,' said Dick,

taking her by the arm. She pleaded and argued, but it was no use, and when

at last it was decided she was to sing, Montgomery, who had in the meantime

been trying the finale of his first act in several different ways, stopped

short and said suddenly:

'Oh, I beg your pardon; you're going to sing the song of "The Bells." I'll

tell you when to begin--now, "Though they often tell us of our ancient

masters."'

When Kate had finished singing Montgomery spun round, bringing himself face

to face with Dick, and speaking professionally, said:

''Pon my word, it's extraordinary. Of course it is a head voice, but as

soon as we get a few chest notes--you know I don't pretend to be able to

teach singing, but after a year's training under my grandfather Beaumont

wouldn't be in the same street with you.'

'Yes, but as he isn't here,' replied Dick, who always kept an eye on the

possible, 'don't you think it would be as well for her to learn a little

music?'

'I shall be only too delighted to teach Mrs. Ede the little I know myself.

I'll come in the morning, and we'll work away at the piano; and you know,'

continued Montgomery, who began to regret the confession of his inability

to teach singing, 'although I don't pretend to be able to do what my

grandfather could with a voice, still, I know something about it. I used to

attend all his singing-classes, and am pretty well up in his method,

and--and--if Mrs. Ede likes, I shall be only too happy to do some singing

with her; and, between you and me, I think that in a few lessons I could

get rid of that throatiness, and show her how to get a note or two from the

chest.'

'I'm sure you could, my boy; and I shall be delighted with you if you will.

Of course we must consider it as a matter of business.'

'Oh, nonsense, nonsense, between pals!' exclaimed Montgomery, who saw a

perspective of long hours passed in the society of a pretty woman--a luxury

which his long nose and scraggy figure prevented him from indulging in as

frequently as he desired.

After some further discussion, it was arranged that Montgomery should call

round some time after breakfast, and that Dick should then leave them

together to work away at do, re, mi, fa. Hamilton's system was purchased,

and it surprised and amused Kate to learn that the notes between the spaces

spelt 'face.' But it was in her singing lessons that she took the most

interest, and her voice soon began to improve both in power and quality.

She sang the scales for three-quarters of an hour daily, and before the end

of the week she so thoroughly satisfied Montgomery in her rendering of a

ballad he had bought for her that he begged Dick to ask a few of the 'Co.'

in to tea next Sunday evening. The shine would be taken out of Beaumont, he

declared with emphasis. Kate, however, would not hear of singing before

anybody for the present, and she gave up going to the theatre in the

evening so that she might have two or three hours of quiet to study

music-reading by herself. In the morning she woke to talk of Montgomery,

who generally came in while they were at breakfast; and when the lesson was

over he would often stop on until they were far advanced in the afternoon;

and, looking at each other from time to time, they spoke of the next town

they were going to, and alluded to the events of their last journey. Kate

would have liked to speak much of Dick, but she felt ashamed, and listened

with interest to all Montgomery told her of himself, of the difficulties he

had to contend against, of his hopes for the future. He spoke a great deal

of his opera, and often sprang up in the middle of a sentence to give a

practical illustration of his meaning on the instrument. But these musical

digressions did not weary Kate, and to the best of her ability she judged

the different versions of the finale. 'Give the public what they want,' was

his motto, and he intended to act up to it. He had written two or three

comic songs that had been immense successes, not to speak of the yards of

pantomime music he had composed, and he knew that when he got hold of a

good book in three acts he'd be able to tackle it. What he was doing now

was not much more than a curtain-raiser; but never mind, that was the way

to begin. You couldn't expect a manager to trust you with the piece of the

evening until you'd proved that you could interest the public in smaller

work. At this point of the argument Montgomery generally spoke of Dick,

whom he declared was a dear good fellow, who would be only too glad to give

a pal a lift when the time came. Kate, on her side, longed to hear

something of her lover from an outside source. All she knew of him she had

learned from his own lips. Montgomery, in whose head all sorts of reveries

concerning Kate were floating, was burning to talk to her of her lover, and

to hear from her own lips of the happiness which he imagined a true and

perfect affection bestowed upon human life. Kate had not spoken on this

important subject; and Montgomery, for fear of wounding her feelings, had

avoided it; but they were conscious that the restraint jarred their

intimacy. One afternoon Dick suddenly burst in upon them, and after some

preamble told them that he had arranged to meet there some gentleman with

whom he had important business to transact. Montgomery took up his hat and

prepared to go, and Kate offered to sit with the landlady in the kitchen.

'I'm afraid you'll bore yourself, dear,' Dick said after a pause. 'But I'll

tell you what you might do--I shan't be able to take you out to-day. Why

not go for a walk with Montgomery?'

'I shall be delighted; I'll take you for a charming walk up the hill, and

show you the whole town.'

Kate had no objection to make, and she returned to the sitting-room sooner

than they expected her. 'A quick-change artist,' Dick said.

She wore a brown costume, trimmed with feathers to match; a small bonnet

crowned the top of her head, and her face looked adorably coquettish amid

the big bows into which she had tied the strings. Her companion was very

conscious of this fact, and with his heart full of pride he occasionally

jerked his head round to watch the passers-by, doubting at the same time if

any were as happy as he.

It was a great pleasure to be alone with Kate in the open air, walking by

her side, escorting her, and telling her as they walked all he knew about

Blackpool: that it bore the same relation to the other towns of Lancashire

as the seventh day does to the other six of the week; that it was the huge

Lancashire Sunday, where the working classes of Accrington, Blackburn,

Preston, and Burnley, during a week or a fortnight of the year, go to

recreate themselves.

'The streets are built with large pavements,' he told her, 'so that

jostling may be avoided, and there are many open spaces where people may

loiter and congregate; the bonnets exhibited in the plate-glass windows,

you can see, are obviously intended for holiday wear.' She stopped to look

at these. 'Not one,' he said, 'is as pretty as the one you're wearing.'

'It's a pretty little hat,' she answered, and he pointed to the

spider-legged piers and to a high headland, a sort of green cap over the

ocean.

'Do you know that the fellow who owns that building has made a fortune?'

said Montgomery, pointing to the roofs which began to appear above the edge

of the common.

'Did he really?' replied Kate, trying to appear interested.

'Yes; he began with a sort of shanty where he sold ginger-beer and

lemonade. It became the fashion to go out there, and now he's got

dining-rooms and a spirit licence. We went up there last week, a lot of us,

and we had such fun; we went donkey-riding, and Leslie had a fall. Did she

tell you of it?'

'No; I've scarcely spoken to her for the last few days.'

'How's that? I thought you were such friends.'

'I like her very much; but she's always on the stage at night, and I don't

like--I mean I should like--but I don't know that she would like me to go

and see her.'

'And why not, pray?'

'Well, I thought she mightn't like me to come and see her, because,

I'm--well, on account of Dick.'

'There's nothing between them now; that's all over ages ago, and she's dead

nuts on Bret.'

Kate had been nearly a fortnight with the mummers, but she had lived almost

apart. She had not yet learnt that in the company she was in no opprobrium

was attached to the fact of a woman having a lover, and she still supposed

that because she had left her husband Leslie might not like to associate

with her. To learn, then, that she had only replaced another woman in

Dick's affections came upon her with a shock, and it was the very

suddenness of the blow that saved her from half the pain; for it was

impossible for a woman who saw in the world nothing but the sacrifice she

had made for the man she loved, to realize the fact that Dick's love of her

was a toy that had been taken up, just as love of Miss Leslie was a toy

that had been laid down. It did not occur to her to think that the man she

was living with might desert her, nor did she experience any very cruel

pangs of jealousy; she was more startled than anything else by the

appearance of a third person in the world which for the last week had

seemed so entirely her own.

'What do you mean?' she said, stopping abruptly. 'Was Dick in love with

Miss Leslie before he knew me?'

Montgomery coloured, and strove to improvise excuses.

'No,' he said, 'of course he wasn't really in love with her; but we used to

chaff him about her; that's all.'

'Why should you do that, when she is in love with Bret?' said Kate harshly.

Montgomery, who dreaded a quarrel with Dick as he would death, grasped at a

bit of truth to help him out of his difficulty.

'But I assure you Bret and Leslie's affair only began a couple of months

ago, when we first went out on tour. We joked Dick about her to vex him,

that's all. If you don't believe me, you can ask the rest of the company.'

To this Kate made no reply, and with her eyes upon the ground she remained

for some moments thinking. The light and the matter-of-course way in which

her companion spoke of the affections troubled her exceedingly, and very

naïvely she asked herself if the company did not admit fornication among

the sins.

''Tis too bad to be taken up in that way,' he said. 'There's always a bit

of chaff going on; but if it were all taken for gospel truth I don't know

where we should be. I give you my word of honour that I don't think he ever

looked twice at her; anyhow, he didn't hesitate between you; nor could he,

for, of course, you know you're a fifty times prettier woman.'

Kate answered the flattery with a delightful smile, and Montgomery thought

that he had convinced her. But the young man was deceived by appearances.

He had succeeded more in turning the current of her thoughts than in

persuading her.

'You seem to think very lightly of such things,' she said, raising her

brown eyes with a look that melted her face to a heavenly softness.

Montgomery did not understand, and she was forced to explain. This was

difficult to do, but, after a slight hesitation, she said:

'Then you really do believe that Miss Leslie and Mr. Bret are lovers?'

'Oh, I really don't know,' he said hastily, for he saw himself drawn into a

fresh complication; 'I never pry into other people's affairs. They seem to

like each other, that's all.'

It was now Kate's turn to see that indiscreet questions might lead to the

quarrels she was most anxious to avoid, and they walked along the breezy

common in silence, seeing the sea below them, and far away the weedy waste

of stone filled with the white wings of gulls, touched here and there with

the black backs of the shrimp-fishers.

'How strange it is that the sea should go and come like that! I'd never

seen it as it is now till the day before yesterday, and Dick was so amused,

for I thought it was going to dry up. The morning after our arrival here we

sat down by the bathing-boxes on the beach and listened to the waves. They

roared along the shore. It's very wonderful. Don't you think so?'

'Yes, indeed I do. When I was here before, I spent one whole morning

listening to the waves, and their surging suggested a waltz to me. This is

the way it went,' and leaning on the rough paling that guarded the

precipitous edge, Montgomery sang his unpublished composition. 'I never got

any further,' he said, stopping short in the middle of the second part; 'I

somehow lost the character of the thing; but I like the opening.'

'Oh, so do I. I wonder how you can think of such tunes. How clever you must

be!'

Montgomery smiled nervously, and he proposed that they should go over to

the hotel to have a drink.

'Oh, I don't like to go up there,' she said, after examining for some

moments this hillside bar-room. 'There're too many men.'

'What does it matter? We'll have a table to ourselves. Besides, you'd

better have something to eat, for now we're out we may as well stay out.

There's no use going back yet awhile;' and he talked so rapidly of his

waltz--of whether he should call it the 'Wave,' the 'Seashore,' or the

'Cliff,' that he didn't give her time to collect her thoughts.

'I can't go in there,' she said; 'why, it's only a public-house.'

'Everybody comes up here to have a drink. It's quite the fashion.'

The men round the doorway stared at her, and seeing some of the

chorus-girls coming from where the donkeys were stationed, in the company

of young men with high collars and tight trousers, she almost ran into the

bar-room.

'Now you see what a scrape you've led me into, I wouldn't have met those

people for anything.'

'What does it matter? If it were wrong do you think I'd bring you in here?

You ask Dick when you get home.'

A doubt of the possibility of Dick thinking anything wrong clouded Kate's

mind, and Montgomery ordered sandwiches and two brandies-and-sodas. The

sandwiches were excellent, and Kate, who had scarcely tasted anything but

beer in her life, thought the brandy-and-soda very refreshing. The question

then came of how to get out of the place, and after much hesitation and

conjecturing, they slipped out the back way through the poultry-yard and

stables.

In front of them was a very steep path that led to the sea strand. Large

masses of earth had given way, and these had formed ledges which, in turn,

had somehow become linked together, and it was possible to climb down

these.

'Do you think you could manage?' he said, holding out his hand.

'I don't know; do you think it dangerous?'

'No, not if you take care; but the cliff is pretty high; it would not do to

fall over. Perhaps you'd better come back across the common by the road.'

'And meet all those girls?'

'I don't see why you should be afraid of meeting them,' said Montgomery,

who was secretly anxious to show the chorus that if he were not the

possessor, he was at least on intimate terms of friendship with this pretty

woman.

'No, I'd sooner not meet them, and coming out of a public-house; I don't

see why we shouldn't come down this way. I'm sure I can manage it if you'll

give me your hand and go first.'

The descent then began. Kate's high-heeled boots were hard to walk in, and

every now and then her feet would fail her, and she would utter little

cries of fear, and lean against the cliff's side. It was delightful to

reassure her, and Montgomery profited by those occasions to lay his hands

upon her shoulders and hold her arms in his hands. No human creature was in

hearing or in sight, and solitude seemed to unite them, and the mimic

danger of the descent to endear them to each other. The quiet and

enchantment of earth and air melted into her thoughts until she enjoyed a

perfect bliss of unreasoned emotion. He, too, was conscious of the day, and

his happiness, touched with a diffused sense of desire, was intense, even

to a savour of bitterness. Like all young men, he longed to complete his

youth by some great passion, but out of horror of the gross sensualities

with which he was always surrounded, his delicate artistic nature took

refuge in a half-platonic affection for his friend's mistress. It was an

infinite pleasure, and could it have lasted for ever he would not have

thought of changing it. To take her by the hand and help her to cross the

weedy stones; to watch her pretty stare of wonderment when he explained

that the flux and the reflux of the tides were governed by the moon; to

hear her speak of love, and to dream what that love might be, was enough.

Along the coast there were miles and miles of reaches, and to gain the sea

they were obliged to make many detours. Sometimes they came upon long

stretches of sand separated by what seemed to them to be a river, and

Montgomery often proposed that he should carry Kate across the streamlet.

But she would not hear of it, although on one occasion she did not refuse

until he had placed his arms around her waist. Escaping from him, she ran

along the edge, saying she would find a crossing. Montgomery pursued her,

amused by the fluttering of her petticoats; but after a race of twenty or

thirty yards, they found that their discovered river was only a long pool

that owned no outlet to the sea, and they both stopped like disappointed

children.

'Well, never mind,' said Kate; 'did you ever see such beautiful clear

water? I must have a drink.'

'You've no cup,' he said, turning away so that she should not see him

laughing. 'You might manage to get up a little in your hands.'

'So I might. Oh, what fun! Tell me how I'm to do it.'

He told her how to hollow her hands, and waited to enjoy the result, and,

forgetful that the sea was salt she lifted the brine to her lips; but when

she spat out the horrible mouthful and turned on him a questioning face, he

only answered that if she didn't take care she would be the death of him.

'And didn't ums know the sea was salt, and did ums think it very nasty, and

not half as nice as a brandy-and-soda?'

Kate watched him for a moment, and then her face clouded, and pouting her

pretty lips, she said:

'Of course I don't pretend to be as clever as you, but if you'd never seen

the sea until a week ago you might forget.'

'Yes, yes, for-for-get that it--it wasn't as nice as brandy-and-soda,'

cried Montgomery, holding his sides.

'I wasn't going to say that, and it was very rude of you to interrupt me in

that way.'

'Now come, don't get cross. You should understand a joke better than that,'

he replied, for seeing the tears in her eyes he began to fear that he had

spoilt the delight of their day.

'I think it is unkind of you to laugh at me and play tricks on me like

that,' said Kate, trying to master her emotion; and as they walked under

the sunset, Montgomery broke long and irritating silences by apologizing

for his indiscretion, but Kate did not answer him until they arrived at a

place where a little boy and girl were fishing for shrimps. Here there was

quite a little lake, and amid the rocks and weedy stones the clear water

flowed as it might in an aquarium, the liquid surface reflecting as

perfectly as any mirror the sky's blue, with clouds going by and many

delicate opal tints, and the forms of the children's plump limbs.

'Oh, how nice they look! What little dears!' exclaimed Kate, but as she

pressed forward to watch the children her foot dislodged a young lobster

from the corner of rock in which he had been hiding.

'That's a lobster,' cried Montgomery.

'Is it?' cried Kate, and she pursued the ungainly thing, which sought

vainly for a crevice.

After an animated chase, with the aid of her parasol she caught it, and was

about to take it up with her fingers when Montgomery stopped her.

'You'd better take care; it will pretty well nip the fingers off you.'

'You aren't joking?' she asked innocently.

'No, indeed I'm not; but I hope you don't mind my telling you.'

At that moment their eyes met, and Kate, seeing how foolish she had been,

burst into fits of laughter.

'No, no, no, I--I don't mind your telling me that--that a lobster bites,

but--'

'But when it comes to saying sea-water is not as nice as brandy-and-soda,'

he replied, bursting into a roar of merriment, 'we cut up rough, don't we?'

The children climbed up on the rocks to look at them, and it was some time

before Kate could find words to ask them to show what they had caught.

The little boy was especially clever at his work, and regardless of wetting

himself, he plunged into the deepest pools, intercepting with his net at

every turn the shrimps that vainly sought to escape him. His little sister,

too, was not lacking in dexterity, and between them they had filled a

fairly-sized basket. Kate examined everything with an almost feverish

interest. She tore long gluey masses of seaweed from the rocks and insisted

on carrying them home; the mussels she found on the rocks interested her;

she questioned the little shrimp fishers for several minutes about a dead

starfish, and they stared in open-eyed amazement, thinking it very strange

that a grown-up woman should ask such questions. At last the little boy

showed her what she was to do with the lobster. He wedged the claws with

two bits of wood, and attached a string whereby she might carry it in her

hand, and in silences that were only interrupted by occasional words they

picked their way along the strand.

Kate thought of Dick--of what he was doing, of what he was saying. She saw

him surrounded by men; there were glasses on the table. She looked into his

large, melancholy blue eyes, and dreamed of the time she would again sit on

his knees and explain to him for the hundredth time that love was

all-sufficing, and that he who possessed it could possess nothing more.

Montgomery was also thinking of Dick, and for the conquest of so pretty a

woman the dreamy-minded musician viewed his manager with admiration. The

morality of the question did not appeal to him, and his only fear was that

Kate would one day be deserted. 'If so, I shall have to support her.' He

thought of the music he would have to compose--songs, all of which would be

dedicated to her.

'Have you known Dick,' she asked suddenly, 'a long time?'

'Two or three years or so,' replied Montgomery, a little abashed at a

question which sounded at that moment like a distant echo of his own

thoughts. 'Why do you ask?'

'For no particular reason, only you seem such great friends.'

'Yes, I like him very much; he's a dear good fellow, he'd divide his last

bob with a pal.'

The conversation then came to a pause. Both suddenly remembered how they

had set out on their walk determined to seek information of each other on

certain subjects.

Montgomery wished to hear from Kate how Dick had persuaded her to run away

with him; Kate wanted to learn from Montgomery something of her lover's

private life--if he were faithful to a woman when he loved her, if he had

been in love with many women before.

As she considered how she would put her questions a grey cloud passed over

her face, and she thought of Leslie. But just as she was going to speak

Montgomery interrupted her. He said:

'You didn't know Dick before he came to lodge in your house at Hanley, did

you?'

Kate raised her eyes with a swift and startled look, but being anxious to

speak on the subject she replied, speaking very softly:

'No, and perhaps it would have been well if he had never come to my house.'

There was not so much insincerity in the phrase as may at first appear.

Nearly all women consider it necessary to maintain to themselves and to

others that they deeply regret having sinned. The delusion at once pleases

and consoles them, and they cling to it to the last.

'I often think of you,' said Montgomery. 'Yours appears to me such a

romantic story ... you who sat all day and mi-mi--' he was going to say

minding a sick husband, but for fear of wounding her feelings he altered

the sentence to 'and never, or hardly ever, left Hanley in your life,

should be going about the country with us.'

Kate, who guessed what he had intended saying, answered:

'Yes, I'm afraid I've been very wicked. I often think of it and you must

despise me. That's what makes me ashamed to go about with the rest of the

company. I'm always wondering what they think of me. Tell me, do tell me

the truth; I don't mind hearing it. What do they say about me? Do they

abuse me very much?'

'Abuse you? They abuse you for being a pretty woman, I suppose; but as for

anything else, good heavens! they'd look well! Why, you're far the most

respectable one among the lot. Don't you know that?'

'I suspected Beaumont was not quite right, perhaps; but you don't mean to

say there isn't one? Not that little thing with fair hair who sings in the

chorus?'

'Well, yes, they say she's all right. There are one or two, perhaps; but

when it comes to asking me if Beaumont and Leslie are down on you--well!'

Montgomery burst out laughing.

This decided expression of opinion was grateful to Kate's feelings, and the

conversation might have been pursued with advantage, but seeing an

opportunity of speaking of Dick, she said:

'But you told me there was nothing between Mr. Bret and Miss Leslie.'

'I told you I didn't know whether there was or not; but I'm quite sure

there never was between her and Dick. You see I can guess what you're

trying to get at.'

'I can scarcely believe it. Now I think of it, I remember she was in his

room the night of the row, when he turned me out.'

'Yes, yes; but there were a lot of us. The principals in a company

generally stick together. It's extraordinary how you women will keep on

nagging at a thing. I swear to you that I'm as certain as I stand here

there was never anything between them. Do let us talk of something else.'

They had now wandered back to the fine pebbly beach, to within a hundred

yards of the pier, and above the high cliff they could just see the red

chimney-stacks of the town.

Montgomery sang his waltz softly over, but before he arrived at the second

part his thoughts wandered, and he said:

'Have you heard anything of your husband since you left Hanley?'

The abruptness of the question made Kate start; but she was not offended,

and she answered:

'No, I haven't. I wonder what he'll do.'

'Possibly apply for a divorce. If he does, you'll be able to marry Dick.'

A flush of pleasure passed over Kate's face, and when she raised her eyes

her look seemed to have caught some of the brightness of the sunset. But it

died into grey gloom even as the light above, and she said sighing:

'I don't suppose he'd marry me.'

'Well, if he wouldn't, there are lots who would.'

'What do you mean?' asked Kate simply.

'Oh, nothing; only I should think that anyone would be glad to marry you,'

the young man answered, hoping that she would not repeat the conversation

to her lover.

'I hope he will; for if he were to leave me, I think I should die. But tell

me--you will, won't you? For you are my friend, aren't you?'

'I hope so,' he replied constrainedly.

'Well, tell me the truth: do you think he can be constant to a woman? Does

he get tired easily? Does he like change?'

Kate laid her hand on Montgomery's shoulder, and looked pleadingly in his

face.

'Dick is an awful good fellow, and I'm sure he couldn't but behave well to

anyone he liked--not to say loved; and I know that he never cared for

anybody as he does for you; he as much as told me.'

Kate's smile was expressive of pleasure and weariness, and after a pause,

she said:

'I hope what you say is true; but I don't think men ever love as women do.

When we give our heart to one man, we cannot love another. I don't know

why, but I don't believe that a man could be quite faithful to a woman.'

'That's all nonsense. I'm sure that if I loved a woman it wouldn't occur to

me to think of another.'

'Perhaps you might,' she answered; and, unconsciously comparing them with

Dick's jovial features, she examined intently the enormous nose and the

hollow, sunken cheeks. Montgomery wondered what she was thinking of, and he

half guessed that she was considering if it were possible that any woman

could care for him. To die without ever having been able to inspire an

affection was a fear that was habitual to him, and often at night he lay

awake, racked by the thought that his ugliness would ever debar him from

attaining this dearly desired end.

'Were you ever in love with anybody?' she asked, after a long silence.

'Yes, once.'

'And did she care for you?'

'Yes, I think she did at first. We used to meet at dinner every day; but

then she fell in love with an acrobat--I suppose you would call him an

acrobat--I mean one of those gutta-percha men who tie their legs in a knot

over their heads. The child was deformed. I was awfully cut up about it at

the time, but it's all over now.'

The conversation then came to a pause. Kate did not like to ask any further

questions, but as she stared vaguely at the pale sun setting, she wondered

what the acrobat was like, and how a girl could prefer a gutta-percha man

to the musician. As the minutes passed, the silence grew more irritating,

and the evening colder.

'I'm afraid we shall catch a chill if we remain here much longer, said

Montgomery, who had again begun to sing his waltz over.

'Yes, I think we'd better be getting home,' Kate answered dreamily.

After some searching, they found a huge stairway cut for the use of bathers

in the side of the cliff, and up this feet-torturing path Montgomery helped

Kate carefully and lovingly.