A Crooked Path Part 44

"And has Mr. Errington all that money?"

"His father has a good deal more. He bought this place for him, I believe. Old Errington is very wealthy, and on his last legs, from what I hear."

"Ten thousand a year! What a quant.i.ty of money!"

"Hem! I think I could get through it without much trouble."

"Then you have always been rich?"

"Rich! I have been on the verge of bankruptcy all my life. I never knew what it was to have enough money."

"But you seem to have gone everywhere and done everything."

"Yes, by discounting my future at a ruinous rate," he returned, with a sort of reckless candor that amused his hearer. "You scarcely understand me, I suppose."

"I think I do. I know how uncomfortable it is to want money."

"Indeed! Still, it's not so hard on women as on men."

"Why?"

"We want so much more."

"Then you have so many more chances of earning it."

"Earning it! Oh, that is a new view of the case!"

"I should not mind doing it; that is, if I could succeed."

"Do you know, I took you for your nephews' governess. It never crossed my mind you were an heiress. As a rule, heiresses are revolting to the last degree."

"I feel the compliment."

"Remember, I like their money, only I object to its being enc.u.mbered."

"You are wonderfully frank, Mr. De Burgh."

"I dare say you said 'brutally frank' in your thoughts, Miss Liddell, and you are right. I am rather a bad lot, and a little too old to mend.

But let it be a saving clause in your mind, if I ever recur to it, that the fact of your being nice enough for the governess impelled me to offer driving lessons to the heiress. Will you take the reins? You might hold them forever if you choose."

"Not yet, thank you--when we get out on the road again," returned Katherine, not seeing or seeming to see his covert meaning. "You are surely not a democrat?"

"A democrat? No. I have no particular view as regards politics; but if the devil ever got so completely the upper hand in this world as to leave it without a cla.s.s to serve and obey _us_, their natural superiors, I'd decline to stay here any longer, and descend by the help of a bullet to lower regions, where I should have better society."

"More congenial society, I am sure," said Katherine, laughing, though revolted by his tone. She felt it would never do to show she was. "You are quite different from any one _I_ ever met. Do you know, you give me the idea of a wicked Norman Baron in the Middle Ages."

De Burgh laughed, as if he rather enjoyed the observation. "I know," he said; "a regular melodramatic villain, 'away with him to the lowest dungeon beneath the castle moat' sort of fellow, who would draw a Jew's teeth before breakfast and roast a restive burgher after. I wonder, considering you possess the two strongest attractions for men of this description--money and (may I say it?) beauty--that you trust yourself with me."

"Ah! you concealed your vile opinions successfully; so you see I could not know my danger," returned Katherine, laughing. "You are not at all a modern man."

"I accept the compliment."

"Which I did not intend for one. When we get through the gates I will take the reins again."

"Certainly; but the ponies' heads will be turned homeward, and I am afraid they will pull. They have steadied down wonderfully." The rest of the drive was spent in careful instruction, and Katherine was surprised to find how quickly the time had gone when they reached the house.

De Burgh interested her in spite of her dislike of the opinions and sentiments he expressed. There was something picturesque about the man, and she felt that he was attracted to her in a curious and almost alarming manner. Yet she was conscious of an inclination to play with fire. It was some time since she felt so light-hearted. The sight of Errington's luxurious surroundings seemed to take something from the load upon her conscience, and this sense of partial relief gave brilliancy to her eyes, as the fresh balmy air gave her something of her former rich coloring.

"By Jove!" cried Colonel Ormonde, as Katherine took her place at luncheon, "your drive has agreed with you. I've never seen you look so well. You must pursue the treatment. How did she get on, De Burgh?"

"Not so badly. But Miss Liddell is more timid than I expected. She'll get accustomed to the look of the cattle in a little while. Courage is largely made up of a habit. I'll take some of that cold lamb, Ormonde."

And De Burgh spoke no more till he had finished his luncheon.

"Do you know, Miss Liddell, that my father was an old friend of your uncle's?" said Errington that evening, as he placed himself beside her on a retired sofa, while Miss Brereton was executing some gymnastics on the piano. "I have just been taking to Ormonde about him. I remember having been sent to call upon him--long ago, when I was at college, I think. He lived in some wild north-land; I remember it was a great way off. Then my father went for a trip to Calcutta, and I fancy lost sight of his old chum."

Katherine grew red and white as he spoke; she could only murmur, "Yes, I was told they had been friends."

"Then you must accept me as a hereditary friend," said Errington, kindly. "I shall tell my father that I have made your acquaintance, though he does not take much interest in anything now, I am sorry to say."

"I am sorry--" faltered Katherine.

"Both Lady Alice and I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you in town,"

continued Errington, having waited in vain for her to finish her sentence. "I am going to see her safely in her aunt's charge to-morrow, and shall not return, I fancy, till you have left."

"You are both very good. I shall be most happy to see you again,"

returned Katherine, mastering her forces, though she felt ready to fly and hide her guilty head in any corner. Errington felt that she was unusually uneasy and uncomfortable with him, so made way the more readily for De Burgh, who monopolized her for rest of the evening.

The next day was wet, and for a week the weather was unsettled, so that Katherine had only one more lesson in driving before the party broke up, and De Burgh too was obliged to leave.

But Katherine prolonged her stay. Charlie, in ardor for fis.h.i.+ng, had slipped into the river and caught a severe, feverish cold.

The way in which he clung to his auntie, the evident comfort he derived from her presence, the delight he had in holding her cool soft hand in his own burning little fingers, made him impossible for her to leave him. By the time he was able to sit up and play with his brother, poor Charlie was a pallid little skeleton, and his auntie bade him a tender adieu, determined to lose no time in finding sea-side quarters for the precious invalid.

CHAPTER XVII.

TAKING COUNSEL.

Miss Payne was busy looking over several cards which lay in a small china dish on her work-table. It was early in the forenoon, and she still wore a simple muslin cap and a morning gown of gray cashmere. Her mouth looked very rigid and her eyes gloomy. To her enters her brother, fresh and bright, a smile on his lips and a flower in his b.u.t.ton-hole.

Miss Payne vouchsafed no greeting. Looking at him sternly, she asked, "Well! what do you want?"

"To ask at what hour Miss Liddell arrives, and if I am to meet her at the station."

"She is not coming to-day," snapped Miss Payne; "she is not coming till Sat.u.r.day."