The Career of Katherine Bush

by Elinor Glyn

  CHAPTER XII

  Christmas Day fell upon a Tuesday in 1911, and on the Saturday beforeKatherine Bush accompanied her employer, and the two dogs, down toBlissington in the motor. She had only been in one for short drives inthe Bois with Lord Algy, so to tear through the frozen country was agreat joy to her, although, not possessing proper wraps, she was rathercold.

  "You must have a fur coat, Miss Bush! I am greatly annoyed that I didnot remark that you were insufficiently clad before we started. Here,crouch down under this rug--and there is an extra one at my feet youmust wrap round you."

  Katherine was grateful.

  "Stirling must find you some warm garment of mine while we are atBlissington. I have no patience with idiots who deliberately take cold."

  Katherine agreed with her.

  "Do you know the English country, or are you quite a cockney girl?" shewas then asked.

  "No, I hardly know it at all. I know Brighton, and a lot of seasideplaces, but we never chanced to go to the country for our holidays."

  "It is a wonderful place, the English country, the most beautiful in theworld, I think; it will interest me immensely to hear your impressionsof it; after a week you must tell me."

  "I shall be very pleased to do so."

  "We pass Windsor; you must go over it some day--it is only twenty milesfrom Blissington--. Are you interested in historical associations?"

  "Extremely--any places which are saturated with the evolution of man andnations are interesting, I think. I am afraid I would not care to go toAustralia, or a new country."

  Lady Garribardine turned and looked at her secretary. The creatureevidently had a brain, and this would be a good opportunity to draw herout.

  "You feel the force of tradition, then?"

  "Oh, yes--in everything. It acts for generations in the blood--it makespeople do all sorts of things, good and bad, quite without reason."

  Lady Garribardine chuckled--she loved discussions.

  "How does it act in yourself, for instance?"

  "I have tried to stop its action in myself, because I saw the effects ofthe traditions of my class in my brothers and sisters, and howstultifying it was."

  "You certainly seem to have emerged from them in an extraordinarymanner--how did you set about it?"

  Katherine thought a little and then answered deliberately.

  "I always wanted to know the reason why of everything and I soon feltsure that there was no such thing as chance, but that everything whichhappened was part of some scheme--and I always desired to be able todistinguish between appearance and reality, and I got to understand thatpersonal emotion distorts all reality and creates appearance, and so Ibegan to try to dissociate things from personal emotion in my judgmentsof them."

  "Yes, but how about tradition?"

  "Tradition suggested certain views and actions to me--but looked atwithout emotion, I saw that they were foolish. I analysed my brothers'and sisters' ideas and instincts because I wanted to see if what I didnot like in them was inevitable in myself too from the force oftradition or if there was any way to get rid of stupidities."

  "And you found?"

  "Of course, that everything, even instincts, can be eradicated if onlytheir origins can be traced and the will is strong enough to overcomethem."

  "Yes, everything depends upon will. And you found time for all thisreasoning while you kept the accounts at the pork-butcher's?"

  Lady Garribardine's eyebrows ran quizzically up into her forehead, andthere was a twinkle in her eye. She was greatly amused.

  "Yes--in the evenings."

  "No wonder you have emerged! You do not allow yourself to have anyemotions then?"

  Katherine looked away demurely.

  "I try not to indulge in them; it is more prudent to watch their actionin others."

  "Have you ever been in love, child?"

  "It depends upon what one calls love." The tone was dignified. Katherinedid not think this quite a fair question.

  Lady Garribardine laughed appreciatively.

  "You are quite right. I should not have asked you that, since we were upupon a plane of discussion in which even women do not lie to oneanother!"

  "If Your Ladyship will permit me to say so, women have very littlenotion of truth, I think!"

  "Oh! that is too bad. You must always stand up for your sex."

  "Forgive me for differing, but I should be acting from good nature inthat case, not from justice."

  Lady Garribardine was delighted.

  "So you think we are not truthful as a company?"

  "Oh, no, we have no love of abstract truth, truth for itself. When weare truthful in our general dealings with people, it is either becausewe have decent characters or religious views, or for our own ends, notfrom a detached love of truth."

  "What a cynic! And how about men?"

  "A man is truthful because he likes truth, and to tell lies he feelswould degrade himself."

  "And yet men always lie to women--have you remarked that, girl?"

  "Yes--that seems to be the one exception in their standard of truth."

  "How do you account for this? Have you found the 'reason why' of thispeculiarity?"

  "It seems presumptuous of me to give my views to Your Ladyship."

  "I think I am the best judge of that matter," and Lady Garribardinefrowned a little. "I asked a question."

  Katherine answered then immediately. She was not quite pleased withherself for her last remark, it had laid her open to a snub.

  "Original man had no regard for women--they were as the animals tohim--he would not have felt degraded in lying to animals--because such athing could not occur. He would not consult animals--he simply orderedthem."

  "Well?"

  "Then as soon as he had to consider women at all he found it easier tolie to them because of their want of understanding, and chatteringtongues, and as he did not consider that they were his equals inanything, no degradation was entailed in making things easy for himselfwith them, by lying to them."

  "How ingenuous!"

  "That is how it seems to me, and so things have gone on--tradition andinstinct again! Until even now when man is forced to consider women, theoriginal instinct is still there making him feel that it does not matterlying to them."

  "I believe you are right. You are not a suffragette?"

  "Oh, no! I like women to advance in everything, but unless you coulddestroy their dramatic instinct, and hysteria, I think it would be apity for a country if they had votes."

  "You despise women and respect men, then?"

  "Not at all; it would be like despising bread and respecting water. Ionly despise weakness in either sex."

  "Well, Miss Bush, I think you have a wonderfully-stored mind. I don'tfeel that ninety pounds a year and drudgery is the right thing for you.What is to be done?"

  Katherine gave one of her rare soft laughs.

  "Believe me, madam, the lessons I am learning in Your Ladyship's serviceare worth more to me than my salary. I am quite contented and enjoy mydrudgery."

  "So you are learning lessons--are you!" Lady Garribardine chuckledagain. "Of the world, the flesh or the devil?"

  "A little of all three, perhaps," Katherine answered with shydemureness.

  "Look here, young woman, I have remarked more than once that you possessa quality--almost unknown in ninety-nine females out of a hundred, andnon-existent in the middle classes--a fine sense of humour. It is quiteout of place--and like the royal rose imprinted upon the real queen'sleft shoulder, I expect we shall discover presently that the butcher andbaker forebears are all moonshine, and that you are a princess indisguise.--See, that is Windsor--isn't it fine?"

  "Ah! Yes!" cried Katherine. "It makes one think."

  They were rushing along the road from Staines where they could see thesplendid pile standing out against the sky.

  "All those old grey stones put together by brutes and fools and brainsand force. I will take you there myself some day."

  "I
shall love to go."

  Then Her Ladyship became quite silent as was her custom when she feltinclined so to be. The obligation to make conversation never weighedupon her. This made her a delightful companion. They arrived at the parkgates of Blissington Court about one o'clock, and Katherine Bush feltagain a delightful excitement. She had never seen a big English countryhome except in pictures.

  The lodge-keeper came out. He was an old man in a quaint livery.

  "I cannot stand the untidy females escaping from the washtub who attendto most people's gates. This family of Peterson have opened those ofBlissington for two hundred years, and have always worn the same sort oflivery, from father to son. Their intelligence is at the lowest ebb, andthey make capital gate-keepers. There is generally a 'simple' boy or twoto carry on the business. The women folk keep out of sight, it is atradition in the family--they take a pride in it. I give them unusuallyhigh wages, and whatever else grows more and more idiotic, thegate-keeping instinct survives in full force. There are threelodges--all kept by Petersons."

  "How wonderful," said Katherine.

  "Good day, Jacob!--The family well? Jane quite recovered from thechicken-pox, eh?"

  "Quite well, Your Ladyship," and the old man's wandering eyes were fixedin adoration upon his mistress's face. "And Your Ladyship's godchild,Sarah, is growing that knowing my daughter can hardly keep her from thefront garden."

  "I am delighted to hear it. I shall be stopping in to see you to-morrow,tell Mrs. Peterson. This is my new secretary, Miss Bush, Jacob--you willknow her again, won't you?"

  "I'll try to, Your Ladyship," a little doubtfully, and he bowed deeplyas the motor rolled on along a beautiful drive through the vast park,with its groups of graceful deer peering at them from under the gianttrees.

  Katherine was taking in the whole scene, the winter day, and the brownearth, and the blue sky, and the beauty of it all!

  Yes--this sort of thing was what must be hers some day when she hadfitted herself to possess it. They came to another gate--and yetanother--iron ones with no lodges, and then they swept through a wideavenue with sprucely kept edges and so on up to the front door.

  It was a long irregular building which Katherine saw, principally builtin the middle of the seventeenth century, and added to from time totime. It was very picturesque, and when they were inside, the hallproved to be very fine. It was huge and square and panelled with somegood Grinling Gibbons carving, and quantities of indifferently paintedancestors, for the most part in stiff peers' robes.--They had been adistinguished crew, not of the fox-hunting type.

  "These are my people, Miss Bush, not Garribardines," Her Ladyship said,pointing to the portraits. "They were not handsome, as you see, andevidently did not encourage the best artists--the few who did are in theother rooms and the picture gallery. Come, we will go straight in tolunch; I am as hungry as a schoolboy--You will lunch with me."

  Bronson had gone down much earlier and was awaiting them with twofootmen, as dignified as usual.

  The dining-room was in a panelled passage to the right and was a long,low room of much earlier date.

  "A relic incorporated later in the present structure," Katherine wastold.

  It was perfectly beautiful, she thought, with its deep brown oak, waxpolished to the highest lustre, and its curtains of splendid Venetianvelvet in faded crimson and green, on a white satin ground allharmonious with age and mellowing.

  "I had a terrible struggle to oust the Victorian horrors I had beenbrought up with, and which had insinuated themselves, as all vulgarthings do, into almost every room among their betters--taste was quitedead sixty years ago in my father's day. I had to combat sentiment inmyself and ruthlessly condemn the whole lot."

  "It is most beautiful." Katherine's admiration was indeed sincere.

  "Yes--it has been a great pleasure to me getting it perfect. You shallsee the whole house presently, but now food is the only importantmatter.--Bronson--I distrust the look of that ham souffle--are you sureit has not been kept waiting? A second or two alters its consistency.Take it away at once, man!"--with an indignant sniff--"and tell Francoisnever to hazard so precarious a dish again for arrivals by motor!"

  "Very good, Your Ladyship."

  "One can eat bread and cheese, but one cannot stomach an indifferentsouffle--it is like an emotional woman, its charm is just as capriciousand just as ephemeral!"

  The rest of the lunch was to her taste and no further disapproval wasexpressed.

  It was the first time Katherine had broken bread with her mistress, orindeed had even assisted at a whole luncheon. Coffee was the extent ofher knowledge hitherto. It interested her to see the varied dishes, towatch the perfect service, the style of the placing and removing of theplates--the rapidity and noiselessness of it all. She thought of thepressed beef and the stout and the cheese-cakes and the frightfuluntidiness of everything at Laburnum Villa. That was the strangedifference, the utter want of method and order which always rendered thehome table a mass of litter and miscellaneous implements towards the endof a repast, plates and cups pushed here and there and everywhere.

  How very good to be out of it all!

  To her great surprise, Her Ladyship drank beer--clear golden stuffpoured from a lovely crystal and silver jug into a chased silvertankard.

  "The best beverage in Christendom!" that epicure said, as she quaffedit. "Have some, Miss Bush. You are young enough to have no dread ofgout. It is a vice with me, the worst thing in the world for myrheumatism, and yet I cannot resist the temptation! The day I returnhome I must fall to my tankard! To-morrow, Bronson removes the accursedthing to the sideboard, out of sight, and I keep up my courage onridiculously thin Zeltinger."

  Katherine tasted it; it was delicious, and as different from what sheknew as beer as the tea had been from her original idea of tea.

  "Isn't it a heavenly drink, girl! I am glad to see you like it."

  Then Lady Garribardine chatted on, giving crisp, witty descriptions ofthe village and the inhabitants, in language which would often haveshocked the genteel sensibilities of Mabel Cawber, but the tones of hervoice, whether loud or soft, were the dulcet tones of angels. She hadindeed that "excellent thing in woman."

  Katherine's workroom was the old schoolroom up in a wing which containedrooms as ancient as the dining-room, and her bedroom adjoined it; andfrom this a little passage led to a narrow staircase going down to adoor which opened into the small enclosed rose garden. Up another set ofsteps from her corridor you were brought into the splendid gallery whichran round two sides of the hall, and into which Her Ladyship's own roomsgave. But in Katherine's corner she was isolated and could come and goabroad without ever passing the general living rooms--what an advantage,she felt!

  And when, later in the afternoon, her things were unpacked, and she wassitting before a glorious wood fire in the old chimney, sniffingthe scent of the burning logs and taking in the whole picture ofquaint chintz and shining oak, she felt a sense of contentment andsatisfaction.

  Fate was indeed treating her handsomely.