Chapter Twenty Six.
Pages 172 and 173, the first two pages of Chapter XXVI, are missing from the scan. We will continue to try to find what was upon them.
the best way, but it was the best way that offered, was it not?”
“Of course; yes,” she said eagerly.
“Yes, decidedly it was,” he said, still speaking in the same quiet, thoughtful way. “You set me thinking, too, my dear, whether I have done right by you in bringing you here. Yes,” he said, turning upon her sharply, “I am sure I have, if I treat it as a temporary asylum. Yes, it is right, my child: but perhaps we ought to set to at once—if you feel equal to it, and now that we have time and no fear of interruption—and go over what distant relations or what friends you have, and invite the most suitable, that is to say, the one you would prefer—always supposing this individual possesses the firmness to protect you. Then he or she shall be sent for, and you shall go there.”
“I do not wish to be ungrateful to you, Mr Garstang.”
“You ungrateful! It isn’t in your nature, my dear. But what do you think of my suggestion?”
“I think it is right, and what I should do,” she replied.
“Very well then, you shall do it, my dear child; but you cannot, of course, do it to-night. It is a very important step, and you must choose deliberately, and after due and careful thought. In the meantime, Great Ormond Street is your temporary resting-place, where you are quite safe, and can make your plans in peace. As for me, I am your elderly relative, and we, I mean Mrs Plant and I, are delighted to have the monotony of the place relieved by your coming. Now, is this right?—does it set your little fluttering heart at rest?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr Garstang. I—I am greatly relieved.”
“Very well then, let us set all ‘the cares that infest the day,’ as the poet has it, aside, and have a calm, restful evening. You need it, and I must confess that I do not feel in my customary fettle, as the country folk call it. Why, you look better already. I see how it is. Your mind is more at ease.”
She smiled.
“That’s right; and by the way, man-like I did not think of it till I reached my office to see some letters. I did tell Mrs Plant to try and make everything right for you here, but it never occurred to me that a lady is not like a man.”
She looked at him wonderingly.
“I mean that a man can get along with a clean collar, a tooth-brush, and a pocket-comb, while a lady—”
He stopped and smiled.
“Now, look here, my child,” he said, “I will leave you for a few minutes while you ring and have up Mrs Plant. You can give her what instructions you like about immediate necessities, and they can be fetched while we are at dinner. Other things you can obtain at leisure yourself.”
“Thank you, Mr Garstang,” said Kate, with the look of confidence in her eyes increasing, as she rose from her seat and laid her hands in his.
“No, no, please don’t,” he said, with a pleasant smile, as he gently returned the pressure of her hands, and then dropped them. “Let’s see, dinner in half an hour.” He looked at his watch. “Don’t think me a gourmet, please, because I think a good deal of my dinner; for I work very hard, and I find that I must eat. There, I’ll leave you for a bit.”
He laid his book on the table, nodded and smiled, and walked out of the room, while with the tears rising to her eyes Kate stood gazing after him, feeling that the cloud hanging over her was lightening, and that she was going to find rest.
She rang, and Sarah Plant appeared with her head on one side, looking more withered than ever, and to her was explained the needs of the moment.
“Yes, ma’am,” said the woman, plaintively; “of course I’ll go, only there’s the dinner, and if I wait till afterwards the shops will be shut up. I don’t think you or master would like Becky to wait table with her face tied up, and if I make her take the handkerchief off she’ll go into shrieking hysterics, and that will be worse. And then—would you mind looking out, ma’am?”
She walked slowly across to the window, and drew aside one of the heavy curtains.
Kate followed her, looked, and turned to the woman.
“Draw up the blind,” she said.
There was a feeble smile, and a shake of the head.
“It is up, ma’am, and it’s been like that all day—black as pitch. Plagues of Ejup couldn’t have been worse.”
“Oh, it is impossible for you to go,” said Kate, quickly. “What am I to do?”
“Well, ma’am, if you wouldn’t mind, I think I could tell you. You see, master come to this place when Mr Jenour died, and there hasn’t been a thing taken away since. It’s just as it used to be when Mrs Jenour was alive, years before. There’s drawers and drawers and wardrobes full of everything a lady can want; and there’s never a week goes by that I don’t spend hours in going over and folding and airing, and I spend shillings and shillings every year in lavender. So if you wouldn’t mind—”
Sarah Plant did not finish her sentence, but stood looking appealingly at the visitor.
“It is impossible for you to go out, Mrs Plant.”
“Sarah, if you wouldn’t mind, ma’am, and it’s very good of you to say so.”
“Well, then, Sarah,” said Kate, smiling, and feeling more at ease, “you shall help me to get over the difficulty. Now go and see to your duties. I do not wish Mr Garstang to be troubled by my visit.”
“Troubled, my dear young lady! I’m sure he’d be pleased to do anything. I’m not given to chatter and gossip, and, as I’ve often told Becky, if she’d been more obedient to me, and not been so foolish as to talk to milkmen, she’d have been a happier girl. But I can’t help telling you what I heard master say this morning to himself, after he’d been giving me my orders: ‘Ah,’ he says, quite soft like, ‘if I had had a child like that!’ and of course, miss, he meant you.”
Speaking dramatically, this formed Sarah Plant’s exit, but Kate called her back.
“Would you mind and see that these two letters are posted? Have you any stamps?”
“There’s lots, ma’am, in that little stand,” said the woman, pointing to the table; and a couple being affixed the woman took the letters out with her.
About half an hour later Garstang entered, smiling pleasantly, and offering his arm.
“Dinner is waiting,” he said, and he led his guest into the dining-room, where over a well-served meal, with everything in the best of taste, he laid himself out to increase the feeling of confidence he saw growing in Kate’s eyes.
His conversation was clever, if not brilliant; he showed that he had an amply stored mind, and his bearing was full of chivalrous respect; while feeling more at rest, Kate felt drawn to him, and the magnitude of her step grew less in her troubled eyes.
The dinner was at an end, and they were seated over the dessert, Garstang sipping most temperately at his one glass of claret from time to time, and for some minutes there had been silence, during which he had been gazing thoughtfully at the girl.
“The most pleasant meal I have had for years,” he said suddenly, “and I feel loath to break the charm, but it is time for the lady of the house to rise. Will you make the curiosity place the drawing-room, and when the tea has been brought up, send for me? I shall be longing to come, for I enjoy so little of the simple domestic.”
Sarah Plant’s words came to Kate’s mind, “Ah, if I had had a child like that!” and the feeling of rest and confidence still grew, as Garstang rose and crossed the room to open the door for her.
“By the way, there is one little thing, my dear child,” he said gravely.
Kate started, and her hand went to her breast.
“Don’t be alarmed,” he said, smiling, “a mere trifle in your interest. You are rapidly getting over the shock caused by the troubles of the past twenty-four hours or so, but you are not in a condition to bear more.”
“My uncle!” cried Kate, excitedly.
“Exactly,” said Garstang firmly. “You see, the very mention of trouble sends the blood rushing to your heart. Those letters that were lying on the hall table ready for posting: is it wise to send them and bring him here post haste, with his gentlemanly son? Yes, I know neither is to him, but he would know where you were as soon as he saw your letter in the bag.”
“Mr Garstang, you do not think he would dare to open a letter addressed to my maid?”
“Yes,” said Garstang, quietly; “unfortunately I do.”