by Elinor Glyn
CHAPTER XXXI
London seemed very noisy and tumultuous to Katherine when they returnedto Berkeley Square, and the routine of her work came almost as a relief.
What would be the outcome of this visit to Valfreyne? She could notguess. That the Duke loved her she knew--but with what kind of love?With an almighty passion which one day would break all barriers and seekfor fulfilment? Or with a restrained emotion which, when the temptationof her presence was removed, would settle down? But of what matterreally whether he loved her with the one or the other, since both wereequally forbidden and useless!
And she?--What were her feelings? She knew in her heart that if she wereto permit herself to indulge in natural emotion, she could shower uponhim a love that in its white heat of devotion and passion would makethat which she had formerly given to Lord Algy appear but a punyschoolgirl thing.
She must not give way to any such feelings, though; the pain was quitebitter enough as it was--and nothing but stern discipline of mind and aniron self-control could make it bearable at all.
She felt restless during that week--on tenterhooks to know if she shouldsee the Duke; hot and cold as she went into a room. But he did not comeand she heard casually that he was still at Valfreyne. And on Saturdaymorning they went down to Blissington until the Monday afternoon, aswas their custom at each week-end.
Lady Garribardine watched Katherine critically and knew that she wassuffering, and so she was unusually kind and witty and sarcastic, andacted as a tonic. She had a shrewd way of looking at men and thingswhich always delighted Katherine, and they seemed to grow closer friendsthan ever.
"You are a great comfort to me, girl," she said. "I can talk to you andair all my notions as I could to a man--and you do not answer uponanother subject. For you know, my dear, that if the basis of yourargument with nine women out of ten happens to be that the sea is salt,they will reply that on the contrary the moon is made of green cheese!You mildly protest that it is the taste of the sea, not the compositionof the moon which is in question, and then they say they totallydisagree with you and that the sun is warm! You are done!--There isnothing left for you but to smile and talk of clothes!"
Katherine laughed delightedly. How well she knew this style of argument!Matilda had always practised it.
"I believe I owe to my dear lady the faculty of seeing a littledifferently."
"Not at all!--You always were as sharp as a needle. I may merely haveencouraged you perhaps."
"It is through your kindness and sympathy that I have emerged and brokenaway from the stultifying bonds of my class. Oh! if you only knew howdeep is my gratitude!"
She was very seldom moved like this, and Lady Garribardine looked at herclosely.
"Tut, tut, child--you were made for great things, and it is because Irealised this at once, almost, that I have sympathised with you. I couldnot have kept you back any more than I could have created qualities inyou. I could merely have delayed your upward progress or, as I hope Ihave done, advanced it. The spirit in you is God-given and I havenothing to do with it."
Katherine's eyes softened with love and reverence! Her dear, dear friendand benefactress!
When she was alone, Lady Garribardine thought deeply over everything,their respect and affection were mutual. It troubled her a little to seethe girl so quiet--Mordryn had played quite fairly, she hoped--butyes--he could never do otherwise. She guessed what was the reason of theestrangement--if estrangement there was--on his side, and it caused herno permanent concern.
"When a man feels as Mordryn feels, no class prejudice in the world willkeep him from the woman in the end! Only let him suffer enough and thengive them an opportunity to meet, and all will be well!"
Thus she mused--And what a weight off her mind it would be to see themhappily married! So that her conscience might be at rest, and she couldfeel that she had more than made up for her action of long ago.Yes--Katherine Bush was a peerless creature, and would be the brightestjewel in any crown. Not a trace of the jealousy or antagonism, whichonce or twice for the fraction of a second had sprung up from naturalhereditary instinct and class prejudice, remained in her heart. Herclear and wise judgment had sifted and weighed all the pros and cons. Notwo human beings on earth were more suited to one another than herhumble secretary from Bindon's Green and this great nobleman. And shecould launch Katherine successfully, and make her accepted withoutquestion. And after the marriage, she could safely leave to the girl'sown superb tact and common sense the task of maintaining the position ofDuchess with illustrious distinction. So that the only barrier left tobe overcome was Mordryn's tiresome prejudice about class. That mostannoyingly obstinate sense of duty, and _noblesse oblige_--duty to hisrank and to his race. But his mind was not narrow, and once he couldhave time freely to think out what real nobility meant, he would realisethat highness of birth was not essential at all.
Lady Garribardine knew the Duke's nature so well; she was aware that ifshe spoke to him upon this subject and sought to influence him more thanher speech at the picnic had already done, his desire being so forciblyupon her side, he would then still more determinedly make up his mindnot to be convinced from the fear that he was allowing inclination toweaken his sense of duty.
To leave fate to manage matters was the best plan, and to be ready togive a helping hand at the critical moment.
Mordryn was certainly suffering deeply or he would have returned toLondon, instead of staying on at Valfreyne.
Not by word or insinuation did she ever indicate to Katherine that shehad remarked the Duke's interest in her, or the apparent cooling of it.Indeed, since that day at the Easter party when she had lightly spokenof his coming to the schoolroom, she had never mentioned him to hersecretary in connection with herself at all. So on the surfaceeverything was calm and peaceful, and life flowed in its accustomedstream.
Mordryn must be made to come to Berkeley Square again as of old, and hemust not be allowed to see Katherine for some time. He must get into theway of dropping in as usual without fear.
And in the third week after Whitsuntide, the Duke returned to town anddid dine there, and Miss Bush was nowhere to be seen. He had spent verymiserable days down in his beautiful home. He had not reached the stageof reason yet, he was merely fighting desire with all his might--whiledaily it grew stronger.
How cold her hand had been when they had said a polite good-bye on theTuesday morning; he could feel it through the glove! How pale her facehad looked, too! He hoped to God she was not suffering; that would betoo cruel, and he could not feel guiltless if it were so. He hadcertainly played upon her feelings, although in the most subtle manner,which made his conduct the more cowardly and inexcusable. This thoughtbrought extreme discomfort, and plunged him into frantic work. He filledall his hours with the business of his estate, in order to banishmemory, but with no great success, so at last he came up to London,determined to crush out every weakness. But when he went to BerkeleySquare to dine he felt agitated, and he knew that he was fearing and yethoping to see Katherine.
But he caught no glimpse of her, nor was she even mentioned, it was asthough she had never been. He grew anxious--had she left Seraphim'sservice? This must be ascertained immediately, before he left the house.
"Miss Bush is not dining to-night, Seraphim?" he said, after dinner,when he had a moment with his hostess. "I hope she is well?"
"Yes, thanks," and Her Ladyship turned the conversation at once, sothat he was left with this meagre information.
As he drove away to St. James's, he found himself thinking incessantlyof the girl.
She had understood. She was so fine, she had grasped the situationcompletely--had she not herself explained to him the duty he owed to hisrace?
But a woman who could take such an abstract view must surely have a verywonderful soul! Every one of her ideas had shown the highest sense ofduty, the most profound grasp of what was meant by _noblesse oblige_. Heremembered even her remark about his attending the House of Lords, howshe had said it was cowar
dly of him to shirk his work there just becausehe so despised modern views. In what high esteem, too, she was held bySeraphim--a woman not to be imposed upon by any mere charm, and one whowould bring the most critical judgment to bear upon every questionbefore she would accord her friendship.--And that Katherine had LadyGarribardine's friendship in full, he knew.
He went into his library which looked out on the Green Park, and heopened the window side and walked on to the terrace. In the distance theroar of Piccadilly thundered by, but his immediate neighbourhood wasquiet and he could think.
He reviewed every minute incident from the beginning of his acquaintancewith Katherine that night not so very long ago at the house of GerardStrobridge. She had admitted that it was she herself who had desiredthis meeting after she had heard him speak. That proved that she hadbeen drawn to him even then. And how attractive she had appeared, howcultivated and polished, how clever and refined! And to think that suchachievement was the result of steadfastness of purpose! A will tocompass an ideal against extraordinary odds. An intelligence greatenough to realise that facts alone count, and that no assumption of therights of ladyhood, or demonstration in words, would convince anyone,but only the inward reality of fineness of soul directing outwardaction. How much more meritorious and to be respected was herachievement then than if these things had been her natural heritage! Shehad obtained a state of perfection through deliberate intention in a fargreater degree than anyone he knew but Seraphim. Her every idea,thought, expression and point of view, accorded exactly with his own.Her sense of duty was paramount. Her level-headedness, and her commonsense, and her balance were such as he had never before seen in woman.
And she was young and beautiful, and in perfect health. No nervousfancies beset that evenly poised brain.
Suddenly, as he stared up into the deep blue starlit sky, it seemed thatthe scales fell from his eyes, and fog was lifted from his inner visionof the soul.
This beloved creature--daughter of an auctioneer and granddaughter of abutcher--was truly and really an aristocrat in the purest and truestsense of the term. And just because he could trace his pedigree back forcountless generations, who was he to stand aside and not give her herdue when her spirit and character were so infinitely above him? (Thuslove engenders humility in noble hearts!)
Where in the whole world could he find one so worthy to share his greatname and great estate? He laughed aloud in glee! It would not be givingway to temptation for personal joy to think of her as his Duchess, butit would be conferring the greatest honour upon his house that it hadever known.
He marvelled at his blindness--marvelled at his pitifully conventionalpoint of view. How had it ever weighed with him a second? How had he notrealised at once the utter paltriness of the designation of aristocratunless the inner being carries out what that word is intended to convey?
He thought of his wife Laura, with her stupid, mean little brain,developing into madness. He thought of Gerard's wife Beatrice--of whatuse was she to any man? He thought of his own cousin, Dulcie Dashington,with her vulgar barmaid's instincts, and her degradation of her greatstate, and he thought of all the crew of frivolous, soulless, mindlessworldlings who had flung themselves at his head at Blissington, any oneof whom society would call a well-bred lady suitable for him to marryand take to his home!
And then he thought of Katherine's simple dignity. She had not tried toentrap him. She had not been insulted at his holding back, she hadunderstood. In her humility of greatness, she had _understood_ whatwould be likely to be his view--or rather the view of his class.
But now he saw the truth, and the truth was that she stood out a staramong womankind and none other was worthy to tie the latchet of hershoe.
He would not hesitate another second. He would telephone in the morningto Seraphim and propose himself for Saturday, and then he should seeher--this sweet Katherine--and talk to her and tell her the truth. Andif she would so honour him then she should be his own.
The vision exalted him. He let his imagination, curbed and deniedexpression for so long, have full rein. She was not cold by nature, shewould not have to simulate passion like Julia Scarrisbrooke! Hers, ifshe felt it at all, would be real. She had experienced that part of lovebefore. He even thought of this without a pang, for that was past--andsomething told him that she was not indifferent to him now. Howenchanting to make her really love him--how divine to teach her all theshades of that "something beyond" which she had asked him about!
And then their life together there at Valfreyne! Yes, this was the truekind of strength which she had spoken of, the strength which breaks downall shams.
And to think how near he had been to allowing the stupid, blind,hypocritical ideas of his world to part them forever! He must have beenmad, since he had known her worth always, from the first day. Seraphimwould help him after all--had she not told him not to go against hisconscience, but only against custom and tradition and any other man-madebarrier? And now conscience was with him, and he would break every barwhich divided him from his heart's delight!
Lady Garribardine's surprise was great on receiving the telephonemessage in the morning: Might His Grace speak to Her Ladyshippersonally?
Katherine repeated the message of the servant.
Certainly His Grace might.
Katherine handed the receiver and was preparing to leave the room, butLady Garribardine made a sign for her to stay while she sat up in bed.
"Is that you, Mordryn--Oh!--Why, of course you may come down to-morrow!Yes--London is hot. It will only be a dull party--Gwendoline and theColvins and old Tom Hawthorne. I was merely going for rest myself. Youdon't mind, you would like that?--Oh! very well, come either by motor orthe three o'clock train. All right--good-bye."
Then she looked at Katherine who met her eyes with a perfectly unmovedface.
"The Duke proposes himself to come to us to-morrow at Blissington, he isbored with London, and out of sorts."
But no joy appeared on the secretary's countenance; in fact she turned ashade paler, as she asked if she should transmit any orders to thehousekeeper about his room.
"She feels things like the devil," Her Ladyship thought. "But Mordrynhas evidently come to his senses, so they will presently settle thematter all right."
Katherine was glad that her duties now took her out shopping, she feltshe must be in the open air and free to think.
What did this mean? Why was he coming to Blissington so suddenly? Wouldit produce a climax in her fate?
And as Mordryn had done the night before on his terrace overlooking theGreen Park, so she too reviewed all their acquaintance and what it hadgrown to mean to her--something very bitter sweet.
Should she allow herself a fool's paradise for just a day? Should shelet him make love to her, if that was his intention in coming toBlissington? But no, she must be firm with herself and act always as shethought right. But her mind was in a turmoil, and she felt tired andexcited. The picture held out nothing but pain.
If he came and made love to her, she would have to cut his protestationsshort. And if he ignored her, that would hurt still more. She devoutlywished she might run away.
At luncheon the next day, after their arrival at Blissington, HerLadyship said rather irrelevantly:
"You look thoroughly tired out, girl. I advise you to take a rug and abook and go out under the chestnut trees in the beautiful air, and havea nap--and don't come in for tea if you do not want to, there are so fewof us I can manage by myself."
And Katherine, glad to escape, did as she was bid.
