The Career of Katherine Bush

by Elinor Glyn

  CHAPTER XXVII

  On Easter Sunday in church, Katherine sat in the overflow pew, and socould be looked at by those highly placed in the chancel seat of honourwithout the least turning of their heads. It was not surprising, then,that the Duke found the sermon a very good, and a very short one, as histhoughts ran on just as Gerard Strobridge's had done in that same churchonce before.

  What a charming oval face the girl had--and how purely white was herskin! What was she thinking about with that inscrutable expression? Themouth was so firm and so was the chin. Full red lips, which were yetfirm, were dangerous things. Her air was very distinguished and hergarments showed great taste. The whole thing was incredible, of course;there must be some harking back to gentle blood. Not one of the partylooked so like his ideal of a lady as she.

  And she had spoken, too, of love! She had admitted that she knew of oneside of it. What were her words, "It makes one feel mad--agitated,unbalanced, animal, even motherly and protective," but what it could beif it touched the soul she could not fathom----Well, the phase which shedid know was not without its charm! What extraordinary, alluring eyesshe had! Who could the fellow have been? Not a person from--er--Bindon'sGreen, of course; she must always have been too refined for that--andnot Gerard. A woman who had once felt those emotions for a man did notlook at him with that serene calm with which Miss Bush had looked atGerard. What a most damnably exasperating circumstance it was that shewas not a guest--and that he could not spend the afternoon discussinglove, and its aspects, while pacing that sunny walk in the walledgarden, safe from the east wind!

  How beautifully her hair grew! The brow was queenly. How well it wouldlook with an all-round crown of diamonds surmounting it. Sir John wouldprobably give her something of the sort. These rich parvenus--peoplewith but a grandfather, perhaps--would buy some flashy modern thing!That kind of head would do justice to family jewels. He knew of oneparticular crown which had belonged to a certain Duchess of earlyregency days, which was reposing now at Garrards, and which would bespecially becoming. Italy--she had spoken of Italy, she had never beenthere; what a companion to take to Italy! She grasped the spirit ofcountries. How she had understood "Eothen!"

  But the people were rising--the sermon was over. Capital fellow,Woolman, his sermons were much shorter, though, than they used to be.Would she walk back across the park? Yes, of course, and he would haveto motor. What contemptible slaves civilisation made of people!

  As everyone was assembled in the hall on the way to luncheon, theexasperated Duke came over to Katherine.

  "Can I find shelter in the peaceful backwater again this afternoon, MissBush? It is a vile day, you see, and no tennis is possible."

  "No, I am afraid not."

  "Does that mean no tennis or no backwater?"

  "Both."

  "Why?"

  "The schoolroom is not intended for visitors, and Sunday afternoon isthe only time in which I can sit in the armchair myself and read."

  "I would not take more than the edge of the table, if you would let mecome," eagerly, "and we could talk over what you are reading."

  Katherine looked at him, and there was reproach in her eyes.

  "Your Grace must know that it is altogether impossible for you to cometo the schoolroom; it could but bring censure upon me--is it quitekind?"

  He was contrite in a moment.

  "Forgive me! I see my suggestion was not chivalrous--forgive me athousand times."

  She moved on with the general company without answering and it chancedat luncheon that the Duke could see her face, and it looked to himrather sad. He felt a number of things, and even though it rained hewent for a walk in the early afternoon alone.

  There was obviously only one post which a woman in her position in lifecould fill, in regard to a man in his----But every fine sentiment in himrevolted at the picture of it. That proud head could never bow to thestatus of mistress. He must dismiss such vagrant thoughts, he mustdismiss all thoughts of her except that she was a pleasant companionwhen chance allowed him to be naturally in her society, for a minute nowand then.

  There were so many other interests in his homecoming which he must thinkof. His public duties, which the tragic circumstances of his life hadforced him to waive for so long. There were politics, too. Therenovation of the London house--the plans for the Season--the reopeningof Valfreyne. By the way, which rooms should he give to Seraphim and hersecretary for Whitsuntide? The Venetian suite on the ground floor in thewest wing. Seraphim should have the bedroom and dressing-room andsitting-room, which looked on to the park, and Miss Bush the smallerbedroom hung with green damask adjoining--and how would things be? Shewould be his guest then, and should be treated with all honour. Thereshould be no more coming into the drawing-room after dinner--andlunching if the numbers had to be made up!

  But to what end? This was ridiculous weakness, this allowing histhoughts to dwell upon her so much. He had better go back to the houseand talk to one of the newcomers--quite a nice woman, who was not intentupon falling into his arms.

  And Katherine sat in the schoolroom for a little, but she did not read.She had seen the Duke from the window for an instant passing the end ofthe rose garden. The sight of him had made her sit down in her armchairand begin to think.

  Could the barrier of the enormous difference in their positions ever besurmounted, after all? Dukes had married even actresses in the past, butshe would never accept such a position as had been the lot of suchDuchesses. She must only wear the strawberry leaves if they could begiven her in all honour, and with the sympathy and the approval of herown immediate world. It almost looked as though her mistress'sacquiescence would be forthcoming. But there was yet another side of thequestion; there was the recollection of the three days with Lord Algy.No faintest uneasiness or regret about that episode had ever entered herbrain during all her friendship with Gerard except on that one evening,after hearing of the misfortune of Gladys and upon that one occasionwhen first she had again seen the hotel in Paris. Now she was faced withthe thought what would the Duke say if he knew of this circumstance inher life? With his lofty point of view, his pride and his present greatrespect for her, the knowledge would inevitably part them. And if heshould remain in ignorance and marry her, the secret fear of his everdiscovering the truth afterwards would hang like Damocles' sword overher head. It would insidiously and inevitably destroy the harmony andperfect balance of her mind, necessary for her to carry through thegreat task of playing successfully the part of Duchess, and it wouldeventually spoil her whole life.

  She more than ever realised the certain reaction of every single actioncommitted, and of every thought thought. Therefore the tremendousnecessity of forethought.

  Unless the mind is perfectly at peace with itself, she knew it couldnever have magnetic force to propel its desires, and must loseconfidence and so fail to reach its goal. This she realised fully. Herparticular type and logical brain, weighing all matters withoutsentiment, totally uninfluenced by orthodox ideas as to morality if suchorthodox ideas did not seem to be supported by common sense, caused herto feel no guilt, nor any so-called conscience prickings on having takenLord Algy as a lover. They had both been free and were injuring none. Toher it appeared no sin, merely that such actions, not being sanctionedby custom, would inevitably draw upon those who committed them thepenalty attached to breaking any laws, even should they be only those ofconventionality.

  But beyond all this, there was another and quite newly experiencedemotion troubling her. It had arisen sharply and suddenly in her breast,born of that strange thrill she had felt when the Duke had kissed herhand----What if he--the man himself--should grow to matter toher--matter as Algy had done, quite apart from his Dukedom and his beingthe medium through which she could gratify her ambitions?

  What a unique, subtle, extraordinary emotion she had experienced! Shemust keep her head; she must not give way to such things. How hateful,how unbearable it would be if one day she should see disgust andcontempt in those dark-blue eyes, in
stead of the look of homage whichhad preceded the kiss!

  Then she scolded herself. To fear was to draw inevitably the thingfeared. She must have no fears and no regrets. She must pursue her planwith intelligence, and if the feeling that she was using deception grewto be insupportable, then she must have courage to face the result ofher own past action, and she must admit herself beaten and retire fromthe game. She went over the chances of discovery. Lord Algy would nevergive her away; she had calculated upon that fact when she had chosen anaristocrat for her partner in initiation. There remained only the valetHanson, who had seen her often enough possibly to recognise her again.But he did not know her real name, and had shown no interest in her--tooaccustomed, probably, to the changes in his master's fancies to remarkupon individuals. Also, she was so completely altered since those days,no casual remembrance Hanson might have kept of her would be likely torevive if he chanced to see her now.

  The odds were ten thousand to one that neither the Duke nor anyone elsewould ever know of her adventure. It thus resolved itself only into aquestion for her own honest soul to decide.

  The common sense way to look at everything was that the time for theseheart-searchings was not yet; and that her energies must be concentratedupon continuing to profit by the results of her first sensible action inmaking the impression upon the Duke's imagination unbiased by classprejudices.

  So presently she grew quieter and at last fell asleep over the woodfire, the volume of the "Letters of Abelard and Heloise" still in herhand.

  She was awakened after a while by the entrance of Lady Garribardine, andquickly rose from her seat.

  "I am sorry to disturb your well-earned Sunday peace, Miss Bush, butsome of the guests are growing restive with the wet. Go and take chargeof those in the drawing-room and accompany their songs. I don't thinkthis party has been well chosen, the elements do not assimilate."

  Katherine was laboriously doing her duty when the Duke came in. He didnot attempt to come near her, but stayed by the great centre fireplacetalking to one of the newcomers without his usual air of making a virtueof necessity, which his attitude towards the three charmers had hithertosuggested to Katherine.

  She could get a good view of him from the piano, and found her eyegreatly pleased. He was certainly very attractive. He had that samehumorous and rather cynical expression which so often distinguished hermistress. His figure was so perfect and his clothes, with their air of abygone day!

  For a second, Katherine's hand seemed to tingle again in the place whichhe had kissed, and she experienced that nameless thrill which is halfquiver and half shock. She felt that she hated having to play theaccompaniments, and resented her position. It gave her some relief tocrash loud chords. None of the younger men could approach the Duke incharm. What was he talking to that woman about? Interesting books? someof their mutual friends, perhaps? She wished she could hear--but shecould not. His voice was lazy again; she caught its tones now and then,but not the words, and the firelight made his emerald ring sparkle. Shewondered if there was some history connected with it; it was so largeand so unusual a signet for a man to wear. How exquisite it would havebeen to have been able to have let him come up to the schoolroom, thenshe could have asked him about it, perhaps. She sighed unconsciously,and presently they all went in to tea.

  There was some inscrutable expression in her eyes as they met his inhanding him his cup. They were a little shadowed and sorrowful. Theydrew him like a magnet, so that desire made him at last use sophistry inhis arguments with himself.

  What harm could there be in a little casual conversation? and he took aseat near.

  "Had you profitable repose this afternoon in your armchair, Miss Bush?"

  "Yes, I hope so--I was sorting things and getting them into their nichesin my mind. I hope you had not too wet a walk; I saw you from the windowpassing the end of the rose garden."

  "I wish you had come out; the air was fresh and it is rather nice tohave the wet in one's face at times----So you put everything into nichesin your mind? Was it in chaos before, then?"

  "Yes, partly."

  "What has caused this upset?"

  "That----" and there was a peculiar tone in her voice--"I should muchlike to know--We seem to come to new vistas in life, do we not--wheneverything must be looked at in a fresh perspective?"

  "That is very true----"

  "And then we must call up all our sense of balance to grasp the newoutlines accurately, and not to be led away into false conceptionsthrough emotion."

  The Duke was greatly interested. How exactly she was describing his ownstate of mind--but what had caused such thoughts to arise in hers?

  "It is extremely difficult to see things as they are when emotion entersinto the question," he said, "and how dull everything appears when itdoes not!"

  She looked at him, and there were rebellion and suppressed passion inher compelling eyes--and the Duke's pulses suddenly began to bound; butthis was the sole exchange of sentences they were vouchsafed, forBlanche Montague subsided into a sofa close to his side and beamed athim with a whispered challenge. So Katherine turned and devoted herselfto some other guests beyond.

  She did not come into the drawing-room again that night. She asked hermistress if she might be excused, for if not really wanted, there werenumbers of letters to write. And Mordryn looked for her in vain, andeventually manoeuvred the conversation round to the reason for herabsence, when speaking to old Gwendoline l'Estaire who, he hadperceived, was devoted to the girl.

  "I think she must be tired to-night, having asked Sarah to excuse her. Idon't remember her ever to have done such a thing before. She is such adear child, I don't know what Sarah would do without her--we are allvery fond of her. A perfect lady, wherever she came from, but I reallydo not care from where."

  "Of course not!" cordially responded the Duke. And he wondered what hadmade her tired, and why her eyes had been rebellious and sad. Was shewounded because he had suggested coming to the schoolroom, with the riskof drawing down censure upon her head? She needed some explanationcertainly from him, he felt, upon this matter. It had been thoughtlesson his part and not really kind. He would not leave to-morrow, afterall. Why should not Gwendoline, who was stupid and good-natured, be usedto further his plans if the chance to see Miss Bush looked tooimpossibly difficult of attainment? But he went to bed with no sense ofhappiness or satisfaction in his heart.

  He liked rising early, and escaped to the rose garden alone about nineo'clock on Easter Monday morning. No windows but those of thesmoking-room wing and those of the picture gallery and the main halllooked out upon this secluded spot. He had walked to the end when he sawin the distance at a turn in the shrubbery, the figure of Katherinedisappearing towards the park. This was luck, indeed! He hurried afterher, and overtook her as she opened the shrubbery gate. She carried abasket of fresh eggs and a black bottle.

  "Whither away, Mistress?" he asked, as he raised his cap and walked byher side.

  "I am going to take these to old Mrs. Peterson at the far lodge; she hasnot been well these last days."

  "Jacob's wife?"

  "Yes."

  "Then may I come, too? I must have some exercise; look upon it likethat, since I strongly suspect if I told you that it was simply for thepleasure of being with you, you would send me back."

  "I should not want to, but I suppose I should have to say that."

  She was looking very pretty in her rough homespun suit and green felthat. The wind had blown no colour as yet into her cheeks, but had madeher little ears almost a scarlet pink. She seemed the embodiment ofsensuous youth and health and life. Her type was so far from beingascetic. What ever the mental gifts might be, Nature would have a strongsay in everything concerning her. The Duke admired her supple, slenderlimbs, and he reflected, just as Gerard had done long before, howvery stately she would become presently--if she married and hadchildren----Sir John--but he banished Sir John!

  "Shall we forget all those stupid conventions on this wild Marchmorning, and
return to the stage in our acquaintance at which we werewhen we said good-night at Gerard Strobridge's?"

  "That would be nice."

  "Is it a bargain, then?"

  "Yes."

  "I am not to be 'Your Grace,' and you are not to remind me every twominutes that you are Lady Garribardine's secretary."

  "Very well."

  "If you remember, the last words we had together then were finished bya question from you to me, as to whether there was not something else inlove beyond that passionate side which you intimated that you alreadyknew."

  "Yes, I remember."

  "I think there is a great deal more, but it would not be complete alone.Love to be lasting must be a mixture of both passion and idealism, butwhere can one find such a combination in these days? The emotion whichmost people call love is composed of self-interest, and a littletransitory exaltation of the senses. But such old-fashioned and divinequalities as devotion and tenderness and self-sacrifice are almostunknown."

  Katherine did not speak; the "Letters of Abelard and Heloise" were veryfresh in her memory; one passage in _Heloise's_ first letter had struckher forcibly:

  If there is anything that may properly be called happiness here below, I am persuaded it is in the union of two persons who love each other with perfect liberty, who are united by a secret inclination and satisfied with each other's merits. Their hearts are full of love and leave no vacancy for any other passion; they enjoy perpetual tranquillity, because they enjoy content.

  And now, with sudden illumination of the spirit, the conviction came toher that this was the truth, and that this man walking by her sidetalking in his exquisite voice to her, looking at her with his deep blueeyes, could inspire in her all the passion and all the devotion, and allthe tenderness which _Heloise_ had felt of old. And the magnitude of thediscovery kept her silent, with lowered lids.

  He waited for her to speak, but when no words came, he bent forward andlooked into her face. The eyes which at last met his were troubled andsweet, and not falcon-like in their proud serenity as usual.

  "Do not let us talk about love," she said at last. "It is a movingtheme, and better left alone. Yesterday I was reading the 'Letters ofAbelard and Heloise,' and it is wiser to remember the wisdom in thisphrase of _Abelard's_ than to talk of love: 'What great advantages wouldphilosophy give us over other men, if by studying it we could learn togovern our passions.'"

  Mordryn smiled.

  "Finish the quotation," he commanded, "or shall I? 'What efforts, whatrelapses, what agitations do we undergo. And how long are we tossedin this confusion unable to exert our reason to possess our souls,or to rule our affections. What a troublesome employment is love!'Philosophers remember _Abelard_ as a great scholar and ethical teacher,but he lives not by his learning or his philosophy, but by the memory ofhis profound and passionate love."

  Katherine sighed.

  "I suppose it is indeed divine, but please do not let us talk of it; itmakes everyday life grey and commonplace by contrast."

  The Duke was sufficiently master of himself to realise that it was wiserto take her advice. To discuss love on a March morning with this mostattractive and forbidden young woman was not wisdom, so he changed thesubject by expressing his contrition at having come to the schoolroom.He hated to think that his chivalry had been at fault.

  Then they talked of many things, all in the abstract, evolution andethics and aspirations and theories, and at last Katherine said:

  "How glorious to be you! To have all that is noble your own by right,and so to have leisure to let your soul expand to the highest, withoutwasting it in the struggle to emerge from clay."

  Her deep voice had a passion in it, and her eyes flashed. "You, and allaristocrats, should be grateful to God."

  Later in the day, Mordryn felt that it was fortunate that at thisparticular moment they had reached the gate of the far lodge, theopening of which broke the spell, of what he might have answered he didnot feel altogether sure, so deeply had she affected him.

  Mrs. Peterson was a good deal better, it seemed, and Katherine proposedto stay with her for half an hour--so she came out of the door and askedthe Duke not to wait for her.

  "Go back without me--I have been so happy--and please--do not talk to meany more to-day--and, oh! please, remember who you are and who I am, andleave me alone."

  And to his intense surprise and sudden unhinging, her fearless glancewas softened by a mist which might have presaged tears.