The sudden accession to beauty in Lady Garribardine's secretary had a
double--nay, treble--result! It caused Mr. Victor Thistlethwaite plainly
to show that he perceived it at dinner, and thereby considerably to
annoy both the Lady Beatrice and Mr. Gerard Strobridge during that meal!
Lady Beatrice considered it impertinence on the part of Miss Bush and
Mr. Strobridge found it "ridiculous cheek of that insufferable puppy
Thistlethwaite."
Katherine for her part enjoyed herself! She had got over the awe of
servants--and the strangeness of well-bred companions--She was now sure
of the methods of eating, too, and so had leisure to enjoy conversation
and she was filled with that delicious sovereign complacency which only
a woman discovering that she is undeniably a success can know.
While remaining exceedingly demure, she managed to arrest the exclusive
attention of her partner for the feast, and Lady Garribardine watched
the whole thing with a whimsical eye.
Gerard Strobridge was too good a diplomat to allow the vaguest trace of
his disturbed equilibrium to show in his face, and talked to Läo with
renewed passion, so that before they began to pull crackers she was
feeling perfectly contented in the certain conviction that it was
Beatrice's presence alone which kept him within bounds! He had not made
love to women ever since he left Eton, or served his country at the
Foreign Office until the age of thirty-five, without acquiring a
certain experience in feminine psychology, and a knowledge as to the
best manipulation of diplomatic situations, and even though he had been
irritated by Mr. Thistlethwaite's evident admiration, he saw that it
would certainly cause Beatrice to stay until the Saturday, and so in it
there lay good.
There were quantities of silver charms in the blazing plum-pudding, and
some received omens of wealth, and some of princely mates or lengthy
journeys, but Gerard Strobridge could only secure the emblem of an old
maid--a thimble was his portion--and he turned the unhappy augury to
much good account in a suitable reproach to Läo.
When the caps from the crackers were put on, an early English gold paper
crown fell to Katherine's share, and became her mightily.
"Why, Miss Bush looks just like Queen Victoria when she came to the
throne, Grandmamma!" called out the elder girl grandchild. "We have her
picture on the nursery screen."
"And I wonder what her end will be," Gerard Strobridge thought; "she
looks remarkably well in a crown."
The hall had been cleared for dancing and when the excitement in opening
the wonderful little presents which lay hidden in a rose by each
person's plate was over, the company poured in there, while three local
musicians struck up a merry tune. It was a two-step and Miss Betty
d'Estaire must try it with some new variations which were just coming in
from America at that date (it was before tango days). Katherine was an
adept in them, for was not Bindon's Green always in the forefront of
modernity? And any kind of dancing she really loved. It was the one
pastime of her sisters which she had shared with delight, and often
practised with Ethel in their tiny drawing-room before going to bed.
Mr. Thistlethwaite asked her for a turn with him, and they started off.
"It is much better than a stupid old valse, isn't it?" he said to her
while they careered smoothly ahead. "And by Jove! how well you dance!"
The blood was rushing in Katherine's veins; it was so good to be young
and admired, and forgetful of relative positions for once in a way. She
knew very well that she was a far finer performer than the other young
girl, and all that was sensuous in her nature came uppermost and
quivered through the rhythmic movements of her supple body. Gerard
Strobridge watched her silently. He was conscious of profound and
increasing emotion; it was as if some primitive, strong, vital thing was
there before him, dwarfing the puny make-believes at passion which were
so well assumed by Läo Delemar. She was standing beside him looking as
beautiful and as artificial as the orchids in her dress.
"How that girl could love!" he breathed to himself as he watched the
dancers, and Läo seemed as utterly meaningless as a wax doll!
Once was enough of this sort of thing, Katherine Bush thought; she was
keenly alive to atmospheres and she felt that for a secretary to do more
than show that she was proficient in these steps would be a breach of
taste. So no persuasions of her partner would move her after the first
few rounds, and she left him and went off with the youngest grandchild
in a polka step.
Thus the Lady Beatrice recovered her whilom admirer, and when another
tune had begun and Läo had been safely lured into the arms of the
distant cousin, Gerard Strobridge came over casually to where Katherine
stood.
"Am I to be allowed a turn of this old-fashioned valse, Miss Bush?" he
asked.
But Katherine was not to be beguiled so easily--she must parley first!
"I do not know if her Ladyship expects me to dance any more," she
answered. "If you think she will not mind my accepting this honour, I
shall be very pleased."
"Foolish thing! Is it not Christmas night, and are you not the belle of
the ball?" And he held out his arm and they whirled off. It gave him
immense pleasure to hold her in his embrace--but something in the scent
of the violets in his scarlet hunt coat brought back to Katherine with a
sickening thrill of anguish and longing the remembrance of Lord Algy and
the Saturday night in Paris when they had danced in masks and dominoes
at a Bal Tabarin. Oh! the pain of it!--Suddenly the whole present melted
away from her--the dreams of the future, the pride in her conquest of
the past! The passionate woman in her cried aloud in wild longing for
him, Algy--her darling, her dearly-loved mate! How plain were these
other young men!--How tired and old Gerard Strobridge looked! At that
moment she would have thrown her whole ambitions away into nothingness,
to be clasped once more to Algy's heart! Her cheeks became ashen white
and her strange eyes grew shadowed and fierce, and Gerard Strobridge was
brought up sharply out of his intoxication of emotion by the look in her
face.
"What is it, child?" he asked anxiously, holding her close.
"Let me go--let me go!" she cried wildly, breaking from him near the
staircase recess. "I--I--cannot bear it--I would like to get out of all
this!"
He was intensely astonished, but he saw that she was trembling, and well
as he knew women he could not fathom the reason of this strange
outburst. Katherine recovered her composure almost immediately and gave
a short mirthless laugh.
"I am awfully stupid," she faltered. "I cannot think what came over me.
I believe it must be because I am unaccustomed to parties, and it is
getting late."
"It is not yet eleven o'clock--but come and have something to drink--I
see a tray down there in the long hall," and she let him lead her to it
and pour out some champagne and seltzer for her, and then they sat down.
He saw very well that something had deeply moved her, and his perfect
tact would not permit him to refer to the occurrence, but caused him
rather to talk soothingly of ordinary things--and in a few minutes he
saw that the normal whiteness had come back to her face. But nothing
would induce her to dance any more, and although she continued doing
whatever was expected of her during the rest of the evening--and
snatched flaming raisins in the snapdragon with dashing indifference to
pain--he knew that she was doing it all as an automaton, and that the
living, vital, magnetic Katherine was no longer there, and that this
pale, quiet girl whose hand he held presently in the deserted corridor
was only too glad to say good-night.
"Dear child," he whispered, as he kissed it with homage, "I don't know
what it was that caused it, but you have evidently seen a ghost, and now
go to bed, and forget everything but that we have all had an awfully
happy Christmas, and I want to tell you how pleased I am that you have
worn my flowers to-night."
"--Your flowers! Oh! yes, I ought to have thanked you for them
before--they were lovely, but now they are dead," and she unpinned them
carelessly--almost as if she did not like them any longer to touch
her--and threw them in the big open grate.
"Good-night--and thank you for your kindness," and she was off down the
passage and up the side stairs.
And when Gerard Strobridge joined the rest of the party in the
drawing-room, he had a cigarette between his lips, as though he had been
having a smoke, and it required all his polished skill to bring himself
back to talking gaily, and to looking what he did not feel, into Mrs.
Delemar's sparkling eyes, before they all parted for the night.
Meanwhile, Katherine Bush had reached her room and had flung herself
into the armchair. This would not do--she must steel herself against
giving way to weakness like this. Why had the scent of the violets in
another man's coat had power to affect her so that every part of her
being cried out for Algy? As though the suppressed emotions of her heart
would no longer obey her will--and must proclaim themselves her master!
It was shameful feebleness, and she indignantly resented the dominion
that love still held over her. She sat there reasoning with herself, but
nature reigned stronger than any other thing at the moment, and the
memory of her lover obsessed her. She seemed to hear his voice and feel
his kisses, until the agony of longing for reality grew unbearable, and
she fell forward and lay there on the rug before the fire beating the
floor with her hands. It was as the despair of some fierce savage caged
animal crying out for its mate. Her whole face altered, the most intense
passion blazed from her eyes--and whitened her cheeks. Could Gerard
Strobridge have seen her he would indeed have been moved.
"Algy! Algy--My darling, my love--Come back to me, I want you. My dear,
my dear!--"
She sobbed with agony--and then worn out at last--"Oh! God!" she wailed.
"Can whatever comes be worth it--after all!"
But by the morning she had crushed emotion and came down ready to assist
with the huge Christmas tree for the tenants' children, with her usually
composed face.
But that passion denied should have exacted this anguish frightened her
a little. All her will should be used to prevent such madness ever
holding sway again.