Katherine Bush always looked back upon that Easter party as being the
third milestone in her career.
It happened that a certain guest wished to try some new songs she was
going to sing on Sunday night, and instead of the agreeable gloaming
Gerard Strobridge had been looking forward to enjoying with Katherine
alone, he was forced by his aunt to take this lady up to the schoolroom
after tea and request Miss Bush's services as accompanist.
Katherine had been practising her old gift of reading music almost every
evening when alone and was now very proficient. Lady Garribardine knew
this, because she had sent for her secretary to play to her several
times in her sitting-room when she was there without visitors and was
suffering from rheumatism.
Mr. Strobridge introduced Katherine to the visitor, who turned out to be
the beautiful lady he had walked with in the rose garden; and they got
on extremely well. It was the first time Katherine had ever chatted, as
practically an equal, alone with a member of society except her
employer.
The stranger was charming, and insisted that she should come down to
play again in the drawing-room after dinner.
Another occasion for the black frock to be worn! And a chance not to be
wasted for observation as to behaviour! Katherine, when evening came,
made herself look her very best, and was waiting demurely by the piano
as the ladies entered the room. From this position she attracted no
attention until some of them wanted to play. The guest she had
accompanied was again graciously sweet to her, and some of the others
joined in the conversation while they strummed and pulled about the
songs.
There was something arresting in Katherine's type which called for
notice when people were near enough to observe details of her mousy fair
hair that had no touch of gold in it, but always glistened grey, and her
wonderfully pale skin and dark brows, giving her strange eyes that
intense shadowed mystery which aroused interest.
Gerard, who joined the party by the piano when the men came in, watched
her silently. She had studied to obtain an air of distinction, and
Gerard, whose love did not blind his fastidious critical faculties,
remarked that there was a real advance in this direction since the
Christmas night when he had last seen her in evening dress. She did not
look so sullen either and answered with fluency and ease when she was
addressed, and not in the monosyllabic fashion of former days.
An elderly politician spoke to her. He seemed delighted with her
conversation, and indicated by a gesture that she should sit down beside
him when the songs were over and she was about to slip away out of the
room.
Katherine was not at all certain whether she ought to stay or not, but
Lady Garribardine at that moment came up and said casually, "You must
not go to bed yet, Miss Bush, perhaps they will sing again; wait here
and talk to Sir John."
And so bidden, Katherine was delighted to obey and used her
intelligence to be agreeable and sympathetic. Gerard continued to watch
her and felt pride in her.
"Your secretary is having a great success to-night, isn't she,
Seraphim?" he said to his aunt.
"Yes--and it is deserved; the girl is one in a thousand. I think I shall
encourage Sir John for her; he is longing for a wife, and has a tidy
seven thousand a year, and only rare attacks of gout. She could manage
him capitally and be of real use to the party. She will never let her
heart interfere with her ambitions!"
"He would make an ideal husband!" Mr. Strobridge's tone was sardonic. "A
lover in that case would be an immediate necessity--by all means,
Seraphim, press the match!"
Her Ladyship gave him one of her shrewd glances and then she said:
"Come and breakfast with me in my sitting-room to-morrow morning, G. We
can talk it over," and she chuckled softly.
When Katherine sat by her fire an hour later she set herself to look
carefully over the last five months of her life, and to mark what they
had brought her.
The gain was immense! She had emerged from being an ordinary shorthand
typist at Liv and Dev's to be an inmate of the house in Berkeley Square,
and from that to be the passion of Gerard Strobridge, and the valued
companion of Lady Garribardine at Blissington. And now she had spent the
evening almost as their equal and had heard twenty eminent people all
talking the shibboleth of the great world of politics and fashion; and
had not felt totally out of place in their company, which she knew was
not composed of the agreeable fools of the Christmas party, but
contained several politicians of distinction, a diplomat or two and a
foreign ambassador.
The contrast was delightful to think about; it even gave her pleasure to
recall Bindon's Green as a foil! She laughed without any bitterness to
herself when she remembered the bath and the oyster incidents, and
several others of the Lord Algy Period--and how she had secretly admired
the "rather awful" rooms at the Great Terminus Hotel; her eye and her
taste then so totally uneducated that in spite of many walks in museums,
she had not been able to distinguish her deplorable deficiencies in both
respects. Oh! What an immeasurable gulf now separated her from those
days! It was a praiseworthy achievement for only five months. But she
realised more than ever from the conversations she had heard to-night
that she was still very ignorant, and that constant mixing with this
society would be the only way to give her that polish and confidence
which could enable her to display the really cultivated thoughts of her
mind.
The quickness and lightness with which subtle and clever sallies were
answered--the perfect ease of everyone! She knew that she was able to
control her own face and manner to appear at ease, but she could not
pretend that she felt so altogether as yet, except with Gerard
Strobridge, but then Gerard, while her literary master, was her
worshipping servant--so that was different!
To please companies of women must now be her aim, and to avoid talking
to any attractive men at all until she had obtained such a sure place
that the jealousy of her own sex would be immaterial to her. She had
observed that Lady Elton, whose songs she had accompanied, had a
distinct penchant for Mr. Strobridge--unreturned she knew--but it
behooved her to be more particularly careful. Another woman who had also
spoken to her, a Mrs. Bosanquet, was really interesting--about fifty and
highly intelligent. Katherine had carefully watched how she led the
conversation in the group where she stood. As a company all these ladies
were much gentler and more refined in manner than some of those who had
assisted at the tableaux. She gathered from their remarks that they
rather held themselves apart from these others and indeed laughed at
them good-naturedly. There were sets within sets evidently, and this was
the very inner _crême de la crême_.
Katherine wondered how long it would be before some distinct goal
presented itself--that would be for Fate to decide--and only those who
had made themselves fit to profit by Fate's chances could hope to
succeed in such a difficult game as she was playing; with every
prejudice of class and sex against her, there was no time to be wasted
in any foolish relaxations!
She wondered if Lady Garribardine had approved of her behaviour. The old
gentleman she had talked to had been intelligent if pompous, and she had
enjoyed their discussion. She thought of the Chesterfield Letters--of
what great use they had been to her! She saw the pitfalls they had
enabled her to avoid. Now her next immediate aim must be to come down
into the drawing-room as frequently as she was allowed. She determined
to make herself of great use, and, if she had the chance to tackle any
bore, so that her mistress should feel that she was of real service.
At last she retired to bed well pleased with her evening.
When Mr. Strobridge came into his aunt's sitting-room next morning he
found her in a charming negligée and cap pouring out the coffee.
"I could not wait for you, G.," she told him. "Sit down, quickly--there
are only two dishes besides bacon and eggs--chicken curry and devilled
sole--they are all on the table at your elbow."
They chatted of several things, the party principally.
"Now I have time, G.--to hear how it fares with Läo. How did you
escape--with dignity--or rather in disgrace?"
"She believes she threw me over; it is extremely fortunate. Beatrice was
an invaluable help." Mr. Strobridge put some chutney in his curry. "Läo
and I are the greatest friends--she feels that I fought hard with my
inclinations and made a noble conquest--by absenting myself in Egypt!
Now she is greatly amused with a Hussar boy at home on leave from
India--she must be older than one thought."
His aunt laughed delightedly.
"It is a bad sign certainly. Läo is ageless, though, anything between
twenty-eight and forty-five. We stay like that for years and then
suddenly grow ridiculous! I believe you have extricated me from the
appearance of that at all events, G. My new toupée has given me a new
perspective."
"You are quite beautiful now, Seraphim."
"My golden ones were a habit. It has been a source of great
gratification to me to watch how my friends have taken the
alteration--even Miss Bush made a faint exclamation when she first saw
it!"
"She is usually very self-contained."
"G., that girl is a wonder--have you anything to tell me about her?"
"Nothing except that I agree with you that she is the most naturally
intelligent creature I have ever met."
"Are you in love with her, dear boy?"
"Yes--extremely."
"To the point of unhappiness?"
"I have not analysed the point--but it is bound to be unhappiness since
she does not care one atom for me."
"You burnt your fingers that day in the picture gallery, then? It was a
pity I let you."
"The fire was lit before that--I think it was better that it flared
up--now I am trying to settle down into being friends. Seraphim, I want
to help her. I do so admire her courage and her profound common sense.
She frankly desires to cultivate her mind and improve in every way; the
change in her even since Christmas is remarkable--do be kind to her and
let her come down sometimes as you did last night."
"I intend to." Lady Garribardine helped herself to honey. "I am going
to take her to Paris with me next week and then we shall be in
London--there it will be more difficult."
"Seraphim, have I your permission really to teach her things?"
Her Ladyship laughed her bubbling laugh.
"It quite depends what things--to love you, a married man? Certainly
not! To improve her own intellect--perhaps."
"It is, alas! to do the latter, dearest of aunts, but----" and here his
voice vibrated with unwonted feeling, "I tell you frankly that if I did
not know that the case is perfectly hopeless, and that I could never
succeed in making her care for me, I believe I would brave even your
wrath and attempt to win her."
"As what--your mistress?" rather tartly.
Mr. Strobridge shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"I would marry her willingly if Beatrice would divorce me--such things
can be arranged."
"Yes, Beatrice is an excellent creature, as you often say--but since
Miss Bush will have none of you, you had better stick to Beatrice, she
has done you so many good turns. Think of Läo!"
Then as she saw the look of pain and weariness upon his much-loved face,
she got up and did what she had perhaps not done for quite ten years,
she put her kind arm round his neck and pulled his head back against her
ample bosom.
"Dearest boy," she whispered softly, "I cannot bear that anything should
really hurt you. What course is the right one to pursue, so that you
shall not have more pain? We must think it out."
He was deeply touched and rested there comforted by her fond affection.
"Let me see her now and then in peace without subterfuge, so that I may
help her with her education--and then in the autumn I think I will take
that chance of being sent to Teheran--Seraphim, do you remember the
afternoon she typed the charity things, when I came up to tea with you,
you said I was depressed, and I said it was the shadow of coming events?
Well, how true it has proved--that is the first time I ever noticed her,
and once before you had remarked that you feared I should one day be
profoundly in love."
Lady Garribardine stooped and kissed his forehead.
"Alas!" she said. "But you were too fine, dear G., to go on drifting
forever from the Alice Southerwoods to the Läos; it was bound to come
with your temperament. I really wish you could marry this girl and have
some splendid little sons for me to adopt and leave some of my money
to."
"I would ask nothing better of Fate," and his eyes became suffused with
light at the thought. His aunt sat down again and began peeling an
apple.
"You would have no objection to that despised domestic relationship,
then--it would not even appear bourgeois, eh?"
"Not in the least."
"G.,--how the whole world is full of shams. This ridiculous thing called
marriage! What a problem, and no light on the subject! A suitable
marriage is perfect happiness, the obligations are joys and pleasures,
and it does not seem to be allowed to occur more than once in a hundred
years. All the rest are in gradations of unsuitableness and fret and
boredom. It makes me shudder now when I see people standing at the
altar, swearing to love forever--nine-tenths of them not even taking in
the meaning of the vows they are making--and a large percentage going
through them for some ultimate end entirely disconnected with love or
desire for the partner they are being bound to--it is tragic."
Mr. Strobridge agreed.
"I am convinced," Her Ladyship went on, now warmed to her subject, "that
much unhappiness would be avoided if no vows were made at all, but the
parson merely joined the hands and said a prayer over them to ask that
they might go on desiring each other, and that ended the business. I
believe truly that the actual breaking of the vow acts in some
mysterious occult fashion and draws penalties of misery upon the
breakers."
"What a disturbing thought!"
"Yes--because it is not really the infidelities which can be sins, they
are merely human nature--it is the breaking of the given word which
draws the current of disaster."
"I expect you are quite right--the whole thing is infernal--and yet we
must have some sort of union recognised by the state or chaos would
ensue."
"Obviously--and as marriage now stands there seem to be only three ways
of supporting it. One," and she ticked them off on her fat fingers--"to
grow to that abstract state of good when to keep a vow against
inclination in itself brings happiness; two, to behave decently to
the legal partner, and with propriety before the world, and then
if necessary to have mistresses or lovers as the case may be;
or--three--for the state to allow a man to have several wives, and the
woman, if she desires it, a change of husbands!"
Mr. Strobridge handed his cup for more coffee.
"Most of us are quite out of the running for the first, the third would
be unworkable, Seraphim, so I see no help for it; the second course is
the only possible one for half the poor devils in the world."
"Probably--then the greatest pains ought to be taken to keep up
appearances so that those who live up to the first may not have their
feelings outraged. No one should show a bad public example. The facts of
straying fancy cannot be altered until human nature changes--an unlikely
event!--so the best we can do is to hide irregularities under a cloak of
virtuous hypocrisy. It helps many good and weak people to keep up a
general standard, but there must be something wrong in the original
scheme, G., if we are obliged to do this."
"Undoubtedly. It is the one, however, which has kept all sensible
societies going since the beginning of civilisation and will continue to
do so while there are two sexes in the world. But all this does not help
me in my present case of being madly in love with a woman whom I may
not have as either wife or mistress. Friendship is the only cold comfort
left to me!"
"Tut, tut! Half a loaf is better than no bread!"
"You think she might marry Sir John?" There was hope in his tone.
"Why not? Only I don't feel sure that he deserves such a prize. For me
she is quite a marvellous character, and we could perhaps find her
something young and handsome."
Mr. Strobridge jumped up with a start. This idea was altogether
unpalatable to him.
"How shocking! Seraphim, that might be a creature a woman would adore!"
"Well?"
"Well----"
"Concentrate upon friendship, my dear boy!--If she has once said you
nay, the rôle of lover is not for you--no matter whom she marries!"