Of the days that followed our reconciliation I tried to make the most.
Too much time already had been wasted and spoiled by clouds of jealousy
and other troubles. I knew the kind of love Katherine offered me was
very different from the kind of love I had desired, and in the old days
dreamed of, but more than this I did not know, and some instinct kept
me from trying to find out. We had become again such friends as we
had been last year, and I lent myself to a certain protective quality
in her affection for me, because I felt that it was in this way she
could care for me most. From her point of view I knew that if I could
have dropped back two or three years nearer to my childhood it would
really have been preferable. She would have liked to pet me and tell me
stories.
What her brother thought of our quarrel, and of our making up again, I
never heard. He gave no sign of having noticed anything. I had ceased,
indeed, to see very much of him, for he had taken to knocking about
the Club House and the hotel more and more. This left Katherine and
me almost wholly to each other’s company. I saw her each morning,
afternoon, and evening, and I moved through day after day in a kind of
dream, as if this ideal life were to last for ever.
One afternoon I went up to Derryaghy as usual, but the servant who
answered the door told me Mrs. Carroll wished to see me, and when I was
shown into the morning-room I found her there alone.
“Oh, I wanted to speak to you, Peter,” she said. “Katherine is out with
her mother, who arrived an hour ago. They went out after lunch.”
I stared my surprise. “I didn’t know she was coming!” I murmured.
“Neither did anybody else. She didn’t even send a telegram.”
From her tone I gathered that Mrs. Carroll was not altogether pleased
by this unexpected visit. “What has she come _for_?” I asked.
“That’s just what I want you to tell me. The woman is raging with me,
and now we’re alone we’d better have the whole matter out.”
“But what matter?” I inquired innocently. “What have _I_ to do with it?”
“Goodness knows! Sit down, child; I want to talk to you seriously....
Miss Dick said something to me more than once, but Miss Dick is a
perfect fool when it comes to questions of this kind, and I paid no
attention to her.” She looked at me. “Don’t you understand? It is about
Katherine――about you and Katherine. Mrs. Dale’s visit is the result of
some letter which Katherine sent to her, and which I haven’t seen. How
was I to imagine such things? I had always looked upon you as children,
and now she arrives, simply furious, and accuses me of not looking
after her daughter.”
I had begun to blush.
“Tell me exactly how much there is in it all?” Mrs. Carroll continued.
“You are the only person who appears to have any common-sense.”
“What does she say?” I asked ingenuously.
“She says―― Oh! what doesn’t she say? She says she’s going to take
Katherine home with her to-morrow, and that she thought she should have
been able to trust me!”
I looked at her helplessly, but made no reply.
“I knew you liked Katherine,” Mrs. Carroll went on, “but it never
occurred to me there was any particular reason why you shouldn’t like
her――nor, indeed, do I see any now. They didn’t expect, I suppose, that
she was going to spend all her time with a couple of old women like me
and Miss Dick!” She paused. “You _are_ very fond of her, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I replied, as if I were repeating my catechism.
“And apparently she is fond of you.”
I shook my head. Then, as she looked at me interrogatively, “Not like
that――not in the same way,” I murmured.
Mrs. Carroll continued to regard me. “Not like what? What do you mean?”
“She doesn’t even understand,” I pursued.
Mrs. Carroll’s face altered, grew graver, though not less kind. “Then
there _is_ something in it? You really care――very much?”
“Yes.”
“But――――” her perplexity seemed to increase.
I waited, twirling my straw-hat on my knee, and only now and then
glancing up. She eyed me thoughtfully. “You know it is all quite
impossible,” she brought out slowly. “And you’re so ridiculously
young!” For a moment she smiled. Then she put her hand sympathetically
upon mine, which rested on the arm of my chair. Yet I could see she
still more or less regarded the affair in the light of a sentimental
fancy that would dissolve as quickly as dew under the sun.
I got up. “I think I’ll go now,” I said, plucking at the ribbon of my
hat.
“I’ll not keep you, Peter, if you want to go. Remember, I’m not
scolding you, or angry with you in any way,” she added. “As I told
you, I see no reason why you shouldn’t be fond of Katherine. I can
perfectly trust you. It is just that you are a boy, and of course such
things can come to nothing so far as you are concerned; whereas, in
Katherine’s case, and especially since she is a year older than you, it
is quite different. Her mother probably has her eye on a husband for
her already. That, I am afraid, is the secret of all this indignation.
However, I’ve taken your part. I told her exactly what you are――that
you are a gentleman, and would never do anything dishonourable; that
a word would be enough; and that it was perfectly ridiculous to talk
of taking Katherine home before the natural end of her visit, which
will be on Friday or Saturday of this week. If she _does_ take her,
not one of them shall ever enter this house again. That, at least, is
certain. I’m not going to have any nonsense about it. Will you dine
here to-night?”
I shook my head.
“Where are you going now?”
“Out into the woods just.”
She kissed me. “Well, whatever happens, I’ll promise that Katherine
shan’t go without saying good-bye to you. Be a good boy, and come to
see me to-morrow.”