Katherine saw nothing more of her employer on the Saturday, but on the
Sunday morning a message came to say she would expect her to go to
church with her. As no mention of church had ever been made in London,
Katherine was quite unprepared for this, and was obliged to scurry to be
ready.
"In the country and at one's home, one must always go to church, Miss
Bush," she was informed when they were in the motor. "It is tradition
again."
Then there was silence until they were almost at the door.
"It is rather a fine little church, with some good tombs of my ancestors
in it, prolific people who seemed to have married either widows
with like proclivities, or to have commemorated their own marital
achievements.--There are two very curious monuments, one of a marriage
with about seven or eight children behind both the man and the woman,
proofs of their former activities, and another of a second pair with
numerous olive branches owned mutually. They were of an enchanting
ingenuousness in those days. You will face these figures during the
sermon. You can examine them, a not unpleasing pastime I used to find it
in my youth."
Lady Garribardine's walk from the church was a kind of triumphal
progress. All the faces of the clustering local groups beamed with joy
and welcome for her--she had a word and a nod for everyone and to
Katherine's amusement stopped threateningly in front of a biggish boy
who was handling a bandanna handkerchief.
"If I hear one sniffle, Thomas Knoughton--out you go!--It is a habit you
have got into, flaunting these colds every time I get home. I won't put
up with it!"
"Very good, Yer Leddyship," the boy returned stolidly, pulling his
forelock.
It was evident to be seen that their Lady Bountiful was held in deep
respect by her tenants. The service was quite cheerful and merry with
Christmas music from a fine organ, one of the patroness's gifts, and the
monuments were certainly diverting, Henry VII and Edward VI costumes
carved in stone adorning meek-faced women and grave men.
When they came out, a number of the local farmers and their wives had to
be greeted. Lady Garribardine seemed to know all their domestic affairs,
and to wield an absolute dominion over them. She was kindly and
autocratic, and not in the least condescending; they evidently loved her
dearly.
Katherine stood by respectfully, and once or twice her mistress said,
"This is my new secretary, Miss Bush," with a wave of her hand.
Apparently the bounties and teas and Christmas feasting being prepared
for everyone knew no bounds by what Katherine heard discussed.
As they motored back Her Ladyship said:
"Now, before lunch I want you for an hour to explain the country duties
to you as I explained the London ones--and this afternoon you must see
over the house. Mrs. Illingworth will show you round, and to-morrow I
have to start very early to see my poor people--You have those lists
copied out, have you not?"
Katherine lunched alone in her sitting-room and before her inspection of
the house began she went for a little walk. The old park delighted her,
the sense that it was not public property gave her pleasure. She could
go for miles, it seemed, upon the soft turf, or along the smooth
avenues, without meeting a soul. There was something in her nature which
enjoyed this isolation from the common herd.
"I believe if it were mine I should dislike even a right of way!" she
said to herself.
She stopped close to some deer; they were so tame they hardly started
from her. The whole place, when she came to a rising ground and could
look back at the house, exalted her in some strange way. The atmosphere
of it was so different from anything which she had been accustomed to.
It was no wonder that people living in such houses should have wider
scopes of imagination than the inhabitants of Bindon's Green with every
little semi-detached villa watching the habits of its neighbour. She
made up her mind that she would study Lady Garribardine's methods with
her people for her own future guidance. The perfect certainty with which
she looked forward to obtaining the same sort of situation was almost
sublime!
When her inspection of the house came her feelings were further stirred;
there was a great bump of veneration in her for ancient things. Her
artistic sensibilities which had not yet been as awakened as her
practical ones now began to assert themselves. She felt she must read
books upon architecture, and learn the dates and styles of furniture.
She admired, but she was conscious that she had not yet sufficiently
cultivated critical faculties to appreciate fully. Her tour opened a new
field of study for her--a new consciousness of her own ignorance, and a
new determination to acquire the necessary knowledge on these points.
Ever since her outing with Lord Algy, she had been aware that mere
book-learning is not enough. There were many things of interest in life
that she would never have heard of or realised the existence of but for
that first opening to her imagination.
Mr. Strobridge would be an invaluable teacher, but she must get up a
few technical points first. She would at once ask her mistress if she
might take some books from the library, up to her sitting-room for
the evening. She would immediately look up the bald facts in the
Encyclopedia to begin with, and then study individual volumes. Then
there were the painters and the sculptors to learn about more fully,
although she had often gone to the galleries and museums in London, but
not with what--she now knew, after her inspection of this home where for
hundreds of years the owners had been cultivated collectors--was a
critical eye. She felt as if the key to understanding had only just been
given to her. Even the housekeeper (not Mrs. Pepperdon of Berkeley
Square, but this elderly, portly Mrs. Illingworth) knew more about the
beauties that she was showing off than she did. This state of ignorance
must not continue for even a week!
Permission was accorded about the books when Lady Garribardine looked
into the secretary's room before her tea--and until three o'clock in the
morning this indefatigable young woman kept her lights on, cramming
facts into her head--and then when her work was over before lunch
next day she walked again through the picture gallery and the big
drawing-rooms to see if she had mastered anything. The picture gallery
was filled with early and late Italian works, and some fine specimens
of Spanish Renaissance as well as English portraits. She found that with
even this much knowledge gained she had already grown more appreciative,
but she realised that it was a question of training her eye as well as
her brain.
The guests were all to arrive on Christmas Eve and a message came for
Katherine that she was to come down and pour out the tea for them,
because "Her Ladyship's hand was very rheumatic."
She had been extremely occupied with the dispatching of parcels of
presents and various matters all the afternoon. This would be an
occasion to wear the grey blouse again, and she had discovered that the
becoming waves upon her brow could be achieved also by water and
combing, so she would not be at the mercy of a hairdresser in the future
for her improved looks!
She was seated behind the tea-table in the library when the first batch
of the visitors arrived by train. Mr. Strobridge and Lady Beatrice were
motoring; the three grandchildren and their attendants had come early in
the afternoon.
The party consisted of the two old maiden cousins, the Misses d'Estaire
by name, and a young niece of theirs, and two or three stray men, and
Mrs. Delemar. Katherine attended to their wants and watched the whole
scene--no one had greeted her, but whoever chanced to be near her
exchanged a friendly word; Mrs. Delemar was even gracious, it was her
way always to be polite to everyone.
How easy they all were! No stiffness, no self-consciousness, and one of
the men was quite witty and the young Miss d'Estaire a most lively
modern girl. Katherine enjoyed herself although she never spoke unless
spoken to, and then returned monosyllabic answers.
When they had all been chaffing and eating quantities of muffins and
buns and blackberry jam and cream for half an hour, Gerard Strobridge
and his wife came in.
"We have had the most deplorable journey, Aunt Sarah," Lady Beatrice
announced plaintively. "A judgment upon one for travelling with one's
husband. Gerard would drive, and of course collided with a milestone,
and injured one of the wheels so that the tire, which broke, took hours
to put on again and I was frozen with cold."
Everyone sympathised with her, while Mr. Strobridge only smiled
complacently and asked Katherine for some tea.
"As you can guess, I shall require it very hot and very strong to keep
my courage up after these reproaches," and he smiled as though to say,
"I am sure you understand."
Katherine attended to him gravely; she was purposely the stiff
secretary, aloof and uninterested in what was going on; Mr. Strobridge
rather wondered at it, and it piqued him a little, but the lady who had
been asked for his special delectation had no intention of allowing him
any leisure to converse with anyone else. She gave him one of her
ravishing smiles, moved her dress a little to make room for him on her
sofa, and then whispered to him softly for a long time, amidst the
general merry din.
Nothing escaped the eyes and intelligence of Miss Bush. She was
observing behaviour, character and capability in each one of the guests
and was making up her mind what she would do next for the furtherance of
her plan that Gerard Strobridge should be a friend.
For one moment he looked up and met her eyes, and she allowed hers to
show that sphinxlike smile before she lowered the lids. Gerard
Strobridge experienced an emotion. Läo was perhaps making him look a
little ridiculous. She was overdoing her pleasure at seeing him.
However, he was too old a hand at dalliance with women to allow himself
to stay beside her for a moment after he felt this. So he made some
forcible excuse about the post's going, and got up and left the room. He
was completely at home, it was plain to be seen, at Blissington Court.
Katherine smiled again to herself.
After dinner there was to be a cinematograph show for Lady
Garribardine's grandchildren, a thirteen-year-old schoolboy and girls of
ten and seven, and they were dining punctually at eight. Katherine was
to bring them into the hall when the entertainment began, having had
them with her for dinner in the old schoolroom. She was not particularly
fond of children, but she did her best to make them enjoy their
meal. They were stupid, unattractive creatures with none of their
grandmother's wit. They were to go on to their paternal relations for
the New Year, and then with their governess and tutor were to sail to
join their parents in the Antipodes.
The "dressy blouse" had to do duty as evening attire on this night (the
creation of Gladys' arranging must be kept for the grand occasion of the
Christmas dinner in the dining-room) but Katherine had altered it a
little, the wretched thing! and cut down the neck to make it more
becoming. It looked quite suitable to her station in any case, she
thought, as she caught sight of herself in the long glass in her room.
She was beginning to take an interest in dress which surprised herself!
She took a chair in the background, close to the staircase from which
the servants were to be allowed to witness the show--Her whole demeanour
was quiet and unremarkable--and no one paid any attention to her at all
until the lights were turned up in the interval between one set of
pictures and another, when Lady Garribardine called out to her:
"Can you see from where you are, Miss Bush? The next thing ought to be
very funny."
Katherine had the kind of voice which people listen to, and one or two
of the men glanced round at her when she answered with thanks that she
had a capital view. And old Colonel Hawthorne said to a young guardsman
friend of Miss Betty d'Estaire that, by Jove! Her Ladyship's secretary,
or the children's governess, or whoever she was, had a pair of eyes
worth looking at!
Gerard Strobridge had found Läo charming again! He had dined well and
partaken of his aunt's promised very best champagne, and he had indulged
in some obviously subtle insinuations as to his further intentions in
regard to their enjoyable friendship, whispered in her shell-pink ear
while the lights were low.
"Oh Gerard!--I won't allow you to!--Wait--not yet!" Mrs. Delemar had
gasped prettily, expecting him to press the matter further.
But unfortunately it was just then that the lights had blazed up, and
Gerard had turned round and caught sight of the provoking face of
Katherine Bush as his aunt spoke.
"How attractive that confounded girl looks!" he thought. "What a
nuisance she is not married and a guest, instead of the typist--it is
undignified and--difficult!"
But the brief glance had disturbed him and rearoused his interest; he
found that he could not bring himself up to the desired level
of enthusiasm again with Läo, and contented himself by talking
enigmatically about the parrot rooms that she was in--their situation
and their comfort--while he looked unutterable things with his deep grey
eyes. Then presently when they all moved, and the show was over, he
allowed himself to be supplanted in her favours by a promising youth of
three and twenty, a distant cousin of the house, who would not have been
permitted the ghost of a chance at another time! But Gerard's emotions
did not show on the surface and Katherine Bush slipped up to bed
presently in rather a depressed frame of mind.
She realised fully that the goal was yet a long, long way from
attainment, and that it would require all her intelligence to walk
warily through this coming week.
No one had been in the least slighting or unkind to her, but naturally
no one had troubled to converse with her; she was just the secretary and
was treated exactly as she would treat her own, when she had one, she
felt. It would not be safe to attract any of the party; her employer's
good will and contentment with her mattered far more than the
gratification of her vanity.
Mr. Strobridge, however, was one of the chief pieces in her game, and
him she would see often as long as she remained in Lady Garribardine's
service, so there was no hurry--she could afford to wait.
But all the same she settled down to read "The Seven Lamps of
Architecture" without the buoyant feeling of self-confidence which
usually gave her such a proud carriage of head.