The Career of Katherine Bush Part 7

Katherine took them; on one envelope was written in a spidery hand in pencil, "Refuse gracefully;" upon the other, "Get out as best can."

She looked for a portion of the blotting pad which was clear enough to use, then she sat down and selected a pen, while she glanced up with her steady wise eyes.

"Has Your Ladys.h.i.+p any particular paper for this sort of thing?" Here was a suitable moment for the use of the honorific she felt.

"Yes, that white paper with the coronet in plain black and the address."

Lady Garribardine sat down by the fire and stared into it. She had not been so interested in a specimen of humanity for years.

Katherine Bush read the letters through carefully and the first one a second time, then she began to write:

To the Secretary of the League for Discouraging Polygamy among the Mohammedans of India:

_Dear Sir_,

I am asked by Sarah Lady Garribardine, to tell you that while sympathising deeply with the admirable object of your League, she thinks the field over which it must obviously be spread is too vast for a small contribution to be of much avail, and therefore, while thanking you for your interesting papers upon the subject, she is sorry that she is unable to forward you any more substantial help.

I am, dear sir, Yours faithfully, KATHERINE BUSH (Secretary).

The other letter ran:

To the Matron of the Nonconformist Detention and Penitential Hostel for Lost Women:

_Madam_,

I beg to inform you that Sarah Lady Garribardine is leaving town shortly and therefore cannot avail herself of the pleasure and honour of visiting your useful inst.i.tution. She desires me to express to you her thanks for your invitation.

I remain, madame, Yours faithfully, K. BUSH (Sec.).

She looked carefully to see what style of address was necessary and wrote out the envelope--and when all was ready she rose and took them to the young-old lady by the fire.

She stood quite still while they were perused, and then smiled inwardly when Lady Garribardine gave a cynical chuckle.

"I think you will do very well, Miss Bus.h.!.+ Please find some stamps, and put them in that basket to be posted--and--er--you can ring the bell--I shall expect you--bag and baggage--on Wednesday next."

This was abrupt, but Katherine Bush felt it was what it should be.

"You do not require the testimony of Mr. Livingston or Mr. Devereux?"

"No--I can judge for myself--er--Good morning."

The bell had been answered almost instantly and so, bowing, Katherine Bush followed the servant down the stairs, and soon found herself in the street, a strange sense of content in her heart.

She knew the West End very well--and walked briskly along Hill Street and so on past Dorchester House--into the Park. All the leaves were off the trees. The November day was beautifully fine and bright and movement was a pleasure.

So the first part of her new game was won at all events.

She reviewed the whole set of impressions she had taken. Firstly, that the house was a fine one--it had "the look," if houses could be said to show this quality. That is, it was beautifully kept and filled with what she guessed from study at the Wallace Collection must be rare and costly furniture. There were some things she thought ugly--but "the look" was often ugly, she knew by experience--from Gladys' verbose descriptions to Ethel and Matilda.

Apart from "the look" it had an air of distinction. It was the abode of denizens of Lord Algy's world--that was evident. The man she had met on the threshold of the morning room door was certainly of his cla.s.s--and rather nice-looking.

As for her future employer, she was a new specimen to her. Katherine meant what the French call a _type_, but she did not know this expression.

"She is certainly over sixty," she said to herself. "She is a dark woman naturally, and her hair ought to be grey. The whole thing is spoilt by that silly golden wig--curled tight like Royalty's. She would have quite a nice figure for her age if she were not all pushed up by those old-fas.h.i.+oned corsets. Why had she such big ears and such red hands for so great a lady? Her rings were buried in fat. The circulation was evidently wrong somewhere. As for her voice--it was one of _the_ voices!

The female counterpart of the echoes from over the gla.s.s screen--and the manner was quite as casual.

"Just as insolent as I shall be when I hold the same sort of place. She was born to it--I shall have acquired it--we both when we are dead will be said to have well filled our situations."

Thus mused Katherine Bush on a November day in Hyde Park--and turning out of Albert Gate suddenly she almost walked into the arms of Lord Algy.

CHAPTER V

"Darling pet! What a delightful surprise!"

"Algy! Where did you spring from?"

Then they both drew quick breaths.

"Come back towards the Serpentine, I must talk to you. Your horrid little note made me feel quite wretched, and I have been to Liv and Dev's to-day, and they refused to give me your address--why were you such a little cat, darling?"

"I was not a cat, Algy."

They had turned and were walking towards the Row.

"I meant what I wrote--I want you to forget all about me. Joys can't go on--I have other things to do, dear."

"But it is perfectly brutal of you, Katherine, when I love you so--and you love me--at least you told me that you did!"

Katherine Bush's heart was beating very fast--would she have courage to keep to her determination now that she saw him face to face?

He looked so extremely delectable, here in the lowering suns.h.i.+ne. He was everything that a woman could desire in the way of a lover.

"I am in the h.e.l.l of a mess, too," he sighed. "My father has cut up awfully rough about my transactions with Liv and Dev--and I had a bad week at Doncaster. I am in for a regular facer and am obliged to agree to be transferred to the Egyptian army for three years. Everything, even you, are against me."

"No, I am not, Algy." There was quick sympathy and distress in her deep voice. "I hate to think that you are unhappy, and you know that I would help you in any way I could."

"Then be kind to me, darling--and don't say you never want to see me again."

Katherine Bush felt this was a supreme occasion--and that she must not waver. She so longed to comfort him, to let him kiss her and forget all his cares. The cynical side of her character, even at this moving moment, whispered that it was fortunate that they were out of doors!

"When do you start for Egypt?"

"As soon as I can get ready--my mother and sisters are going to winter out there, but probably I shall be sent to the Soudan!"