by Elinor Glyn
CHAPTER VI
Lady Garribardine was having a tea-party with some good music, whenKatherine Bush arrived. She realised immediately that it was stupid ofher to have chosen the afternoon for her entrance into her new post, andBronson, the dignified butler, left her in no doubt as to his view ofthe matter, as he directed the hurried transport of her luggage throughthe hall.
"Her Ladyship expected you this morning, miss," he said, severely.
"Then she should have told me at what hour I was to come," Katherineanswered, quietly; "she mentioned none."
Bronson stared. Miss Arnott, clergyman's daughter though she was, wouldnever have said a thing like that; she would have been nervous andapologetic in a minute, poor thing! But this young woman, whom Bronsonhad very good reason to believe, from what he had been able to gather,belonged merely to the lower middle class, had yet the audacity to giveherself all the airs and calm assurance appertaining to a lady of theworld!
Here the entrance of two guests took up his attention, a man and awoman.
Katherine stood back and waited for directions, while she watchedclosely. The man was the same that she had seen on the former occasion.The woman interested her; she was tall and droopy, with wide vagueeyes, and a wisp of buffish chiffon about her neck inside her furs,which Bronson assisted her to remove. Then Katherine saw that she worethe dress which Gladys had described, and which in its general featureshad been taken more or less as the model for her own.
This must be Lady Beatrice Strobridge.
"Gerard," the lady said, rather querulously, "I don't mean to stay formore than ten minutes--so don't get away into some difficult corner withLaeo, if you mean to leave with me."
The man answered with polite indifference.
"Bronson will see you safely to the motor; I promised my aunt to stay tohear Venzoni; he is sure to be late."
Then they went on up the marble stairs and a young footman was sent withKatherine Bush in the lift at the back of the hall.
"'Gerard'--it is a nice name--and he looks a nice man," she mused, whilethey were carried aloft, "and he is bored with his wife. Gladys wasquite right; why did she have that rag of chiffon? It spoilt the wholedress."
The housekeeper met her when they arrived in the top passage, and tookher under her wing.
"Some tea will be sent to your room, miss," she informed her, "and HerLadyship said she would not have time to see you this evening, but youwould doubtless have things to unpack and arrangements to make foryourself. Your trunks will be up in a minute."
And then she opened the door into a back room which faced west, so theafterglow of the setting sun made it not quite dark. There was a fireburning, and it all appeared gay when the housekeeper turned on thelights, with its old-fashioned rose-flowered chintz on a brightparrot-green ground. There was a scent of lavender, too, and KatherineBush was pleasantly impressed; nothing looked cheap and gimcrack likethe bedrooms in Laburnum Villa, she thought, or still more those at thehouse of Mabel Cawber, which were the envy of Matilda's soul. Thefurniture here was solid mahogany of early Victorian make, and thearmchair gave the impression that it would be a pleasant place to restin.
When she was alone, Katherine Bush made herself take in every detail.Lady Garribardine had suggested that she was observant; she mustremember that and always cultivate this faculty, for she realised thatevery trifling thing would be different from anything she had everknown.
She liked the space of the place, she would not feel that she wastumbling over things. There was an empty bookcase awaiting her books, nodoubt, and a big sensible writing-table there in the window where therewould be plenty of light. The wardrobe was a monster, ample room in itfor any amount of clothes! How pleasant not to have to put most thingsaway in cardboard boxes under one's bed--often to find them discolouredby dust when taking them out again! And how pretty and quaint was thechina on the washstand, matching the chintz. And the towels! Of finerquality--and nearly as many as there had been at the Palatial in Paris,which she had supposed was a case of French hotel extravagance and notwhat would be the custom in private life.
She fingered them softly. They were arranged peculiarly, too, with thetop fold turned back so that one could pick them up in a second.Katherine Bush smiled cynically when she remembered her two coarsehuckabacks, changed only every Saturday at Laburnum Villa!
Everything gave the impression of spotless cleanliness and order. Thebrass hot-water can and the fender and the fire-irons all shone withsuperlative polishing.
Presently her tea was brought up by a housemaid in neatest black, with acap and apron which would have made Em'ly snort with indignation had shebeen asked to wear them, so unmodish was their style! It was a joy tohave a perfectly arranged tea-tray with shining silver and prettyporcelain, a tray all to herself, too, instead of a breakfast cupalready poured out and mixed with milk and sugar, and probably a littleof the contents upset into the saucer, which also contained a thickslice of bread and butter and a piece of cake! This is what she hadalways been accustomed to at the office, or on Saturday afternoons athome, while she read her books and a sister brought her tea up to herattic. And with the exceptions of a Lyons or an A. B. C. restaurant, andthe brief time of glory in Paris, when chocolate was the order of theday, this one unappetizing cup had represented to her what many womenlook forward to as the most delightful meal of all.
The housemaid's manner had been quiet and respectful, as she drew thecurtains and shut out the dying light, the muffin was done to a turn,and, above all, the tea tasted as tea had never tasted before. She wastoo ignorant as yet to know that it was China, not the rankest Ceylonwhich she was accustomed to, but she found it particularly nice, thoughrather weak. The whole room and the service and the atmosphere spoke ofinhabitants who, somehow she knew, belonged to the same class as thosewhose voices she had always admired from beyond the half-high glassscreen.
She sat and dreamed for a while before beginning her unpacking. Herheart ached underneath for Lord Algy--but aches are possible to bearwhen there is an element of triumph and self-glorification about them.She was quite aware that she had behaved remarkably well, and in amanner which Lord Algy could never look back upon but with respect. Andto renounce happiness and union when the other person is clamouring fora continuance of relations, brings a great measure of consolation,because there is no wound to the self-love, no disastrous feeling thatbut for personal stupidity the ache need not be. There is even amelancholy pleasure in it, giving a pensive sadness not all pain.
After a while, she began to arrange her clothes and books, and it hadstruck seven o'clock before all was complete and she had sat down againto finish "Mademoiselle de Maupin," which had so thrilled her far intothe night.
She read French quite easily, but she was not accustomed to judge of itsstyle, and as yet hardly appreciated _nuances_, but the story, thecynical, enchanting, wonderful story, seized hold of her imagination. Asshe read the last words, the book dropped into her lap and she stared infront of her. She saw what Lord Algy had meant--and it flattered hergreatly. She understood entirely _Thedore's_ feelings. How wise she hadbeen to go! How she had grasped the salient points of life! And she,Katherine Bush, no great lady, but a daughter of the lower middle class,had evolved some such instincts herself--had played her game with equalcoolness, and had lived through some such joys.
She thrilled and thrilled. The subtle, whimsical, polished wit of thebook seemed to open some new vista of comprehension to her. She did notperceive its immorality. She would read it over again and again--andeverything else this man had written. It seemed that she was newlyawakened to a sense of power that she had not known she possessed. Ifonly she could have read this before she had gone to Paris, what a helpit would have been!
"So Algy was not so ignorant, after all," she mused. "Of course, he musthave thought I was, and so did not let me see that he himself was morethan a fool--darling Algy." But, at all events, he had thought she waslike _Theodore_, only kinder--that was good enough! Well, she would
makethat true some day, and meanwhile she was away from stultifyingsqualor--away from minds only interested in petty local affairs--awayfrom sham gentility, away from gramophones and cinemas--away frompretence, away among the real things where she could learn to understandevery shade of the meaning of life step by step! And at this stage ofher musings, after a gentle knock the same housemaid opened the doorwith a can of hot water.
"Your dinner will be served in the secretary's room at eight o'clock,miss; it is half-past seven now. When would you like me to return tofasten you up?"
The two red spots appeared in Katherine Bush's cheeks. So she had beenexpected to change her dress--and she had not thought of doing so! Shehad not even imagined that she would go again downstairs or have anydinner after that wonderful tea! A little supper probably on a traylater on, or something like that.
But here was dinner! perhaps the same kind of meal as she had had withLord Algy. Of course, she ought to have known that she must change herdress. She felt very angry with herself, and after the exaltation overher own instincts this was a fall! But she would never err again, andfortunately the housemaid would not know that she had been ignorant.
"My things fasten in the front, thank you, so that I need not troubleyou," she answered, graciously; "but will you tell me, please, where Ishall find the secretary's room?"
The housemaid gave directions--but one of the footmen would be certainto be in the hall and would show her. Thomas, the one who had broughther up, would wait on her.
"When you are ready, miss, will you please ring, and I will whistle downto say you are coming. We always did for Miss Arnott, and then theyserve the dinner at once. This bell rings up and this one down; it isthe upstairs one for me. I am Martha, the second housemaid, miss, andwill be pleased to do anything I can for you."
Katherine Bush thanked the girl again and quickly began to dress, and ata minute or two to eight was on her way. This upper staircase she founddescended to the ground floor independently of the stately, shallowmarble one she had walked up on to the sitting-room on her former visitand which went no farther than the first floor.
Thomas was waiting for her and conducted her to a room down thecorridor, whose windows she discovered later looked out on a dull, blankwall. It had comfortable, solid, leather-covered furniture, the relicpossibly of some country smoking-room, and faded crimson silk brocadecurtains, the discarded splendour of a salon, perhaps. These were cosilydrawn, and there was plenty of electric light, and she saw that therewould be space to do her typing on the solid, large table, and to keepall records in those capacious cupboards which lined the walls. Thefeeling that she was in space again gave her satisfaction; she had sooften longed to break down the partition of her attic, or stretch outand push away the glass screen at Liv and Dev's. The room was very high,too--another advantage.
"I shall always have large, high rooms when I have won my game," shesaid to herself.
A small table by the fire was laid for one. She made herself notice thesilver and the glass and the cloth, and almost immediately Thomasbrought in a large tray with her dinner. There was soup in a quaintcovered cup with two handles, and some hot silver dishes.
He placed them all with regularity within her reach, and then askedrespectfully if she would please to ring when she was ready for hersweet. Miss Arnott was wont to take claret, he informed her, but whatwould she, Miss Bush, desire to drink?
"A cup of tea," almost escaped from the tip of Katherine's tongue--butshe stopped herself. Probably one did not take tea with one's dinnereven alone like this, and if she had it, Thomas would know that she wasnot accustomed to the regulation things. Water would be safest. So sheindicated her wishes and Thomas left the room.
A sense of strangeness, almost of awe, stole over her, a sensation shehad not felt even when with Lord Algy in the gilded luxury of the Parishotel. She had known then that those surroundings were just part of any_demi-mondaine's_ life, and could be had by the lowest for money--butthese were quite different. These were rather shabby, but were theexpression of people who had had them for countless years, and were, ofcourse, ordinary and everyday in their existences--the whole atmosphereaffected her.
She was glad that Thomas had gone out of the room. She knew that at thepresent stage she should hate to be watched, while she ate, by a silentservant.
"But I must accustom myself to that," she told herself, for Algy, sheremembered, had never seemed to remark servants at all, and would go ontalking to her, while his coat was being handed or his boots put on, asthough Hanson did not exist.
She was hungry and began to break her bread. She wished she felt quitesure whether or no she was expected to turn the soup out into the soupplate or drink it as it was? She decided to try the former course, sinceof what use was the soup plate if it had not been brought for thatpurpose?
The food proved to be excellent; and the sweet and fruit just to hertaste, and when all was finished, Thomas removed everything and foldedup the small table and put it back into its, evidently, accustomedcorner, and bringing her the evening papers, he made up the fire andleft her alone.
This, she supposed, would be the time she would have to herself. Shehardly noticed the headlines as she glanced at the news; her mind wastoo full of herself and her new life to take interest in outside things.
Where did that door lead to? she wondered--a heavy mahogany door; butshe was soon to know, for it opened suddenly, and the man she hadalready twice seen came in, leaving it open after him, so that she couldperceive that the room he had left was a dim, vast library; it was linedwith books.
"I beg your pardon," he said. "I have come for some large-sized paper.My aunt used to have it kept in this drawer, I think."
Katherine Bush rose while he went to get it out for himself--he was nother employer, and she did not yet know where things were kept, so shedid not offer to help him. He was in evening dress, and his hair was aswell groomed as Lord Algy's, but not cut quite so short, and it wasbrushed straight back from his forehead and was brown and thick. Hisface was tired and humorous and very distinguished, but for the momenthe looked cross and impatient. The paper was evidently not where he hadthought that it would be.
"Confound it!" he muttered, almost inaudibly, and then aloud, "I am in agreat hurry. Will you please look in those cupboards while I look inthese?"
Katherine Bush did as she was asked, and chanced upon the paperimmediately. She handed it to him without a word. She noticed that hehardly looked at her, and did not take in her personality at all. Shewas just his aunt's new secretary and typist; and more important matterspressed.
"Thanks, awfully;" then he glanced at the table, where the typingmachine used by Miss Arnott stood. "Oh!--er--I was wondering if youwould be so awfully kind as to type this when I have written it; it is aletter I must send to the _Times_, and I shall have to go in to dinnerin a minute.'
"I have not seen how this machine works yet," Katherine Bush answered,"but if you care to dictate, I can take it down in shorthand and thenwrite it out very quickly afterwards."
"That is most kind of you--will you come into the library then?--mynotes are there."
She followed him silently, and when he had found some scribbled wordswritten on the back of an envelope, he went to the hearth-rug, and,leaning against the mantelpiece, began to speak. Katherine had taken upa block and pencil and was waiting ready.
He was not coherent at first; he had neither Mr. Livingstone's precise,oily slowness, nor Mr. Devereux's crisp fluency. She took down exactlywhat he had said. Then he asked her to read it aloud.
"That is frightful English!" he exclaimed, impatiently. "I never candictate properly, I must always write myself or my ideas do not flow."
"If the substance is all right and it is just the English you wantregulated, I can do that when I copy it out."
He looked at her in doubt, and Katherine smiled to herself--thisflattered her.
"It would be awfully kind of you if you would, though," he went on,hesitatingly. "I have kept
them waiting a quarter of an hour as it is.Could you do it immediately and send it in to the dining-room by one ofthe footmen? I have my fountain-pen with me, I will sign it there. It isto be addressed to the Editor of the _Times_."
"Yes, I will."
Mr. Strobridge thanked his aunt's new secretary courteously as he wenttowards the door, and then he left the room. At the moment of his exit,Katherine Bush heard the sound of voices, male and female; they wereevidently going in to dinner without waiting for him. She looked up atthe clock, it was ten minutes to nine; then she smiled again and, goingto the writing-table, she began her task, a very simple one to her whowas accustomed to frame euphonious sentences. And when she hadcompleted it, she went back into the secretary's room and rang the bell.
"This is to be taken to Mr.--is his name Strobridge?--LadyGarribardine's nephew," she told the astonished Thomas.
"Yes, miss. _Her Ladyship's_ nephew is _the Honourable_ Mr. GerardStrobridge--if you mean him."
"Yes, I do--he is dining here and wants it at once."
She made no further explanation, but took up the paper and reseatedherself in her chair by the fire; and Thomas could but obey orders.
"A cool card," he whistled to himself, as he disappeared.
Meanwhile, Gerard Strobridge was saying to the lady at his side:
"I had to repudiate Warrington's insolence in the _Central Gazette_to-night. I have written to the _Times_--that is what made me keep evenyou waiting, dearest lady. My aunt's new shorthand typist took it down,and I shall send it off in a few minutes. I hope it will not be toolate."
"You look quite serious, G.," the lady laughed. "It is too attractive tosee you in earnest over something!"
"I am always in earnest--especially when I tell you that I love you--whydid you not come this afternoon, Laeo, I stayed late on purpose and younever turned up."
"I knew I should meet you to-night, G.--and I do not want soon to growbored!"
Mr. Strobridge looked at her reproachfully. She was extremely pleasantto the eye, with her marvellous skin and dark hair, and her curlyaffected mouth. He was a cynic and an epicurean. He was not in the leastdisenchanted by his knowledge that the whole woman was a mass ofaffectation, from the conscious pouting of her red lips to the way sheheld her soup spoon. He rather admired the skill she showed in it all.She pleased his senses, had just enough wit to chirp like a parrot goodthings others had said, and was full of small talk--while she knew thegame to her finger-tips. He did not want the repetition of a seriousaffair since he had so happily escaped by the skin of his teeth fromAlice Southerwood. Laeo Delemar, widowed and rich and circumspect,promised an agreeable winter to him, with few complications.
Women were more or less necessities to Gerard Strobridge's life; theywere his choruses, his solaces, his inspirations.
In a few minutes a footman brought the large envelope, and amidstgeneral chaff he read aloud the letter, his astonishment momentarilygrowing at the apt rearrangement of his words.
"She is no fool, your new secretary, Seraphim," he called down the tableto his aunt. "I do thank you for her services to-night."
Sarah Lady Garribardine laughed complacently.
"I told you, G., I had found a treasure in Miss Katherine Bush!"