CHAPTER X.—ONLY TWO LETTERS!
At length the day for the party arrives. A hundred or more invitations have been accepted, and much expectation and curiosity is evoked at Seabright about the coming grand entertainment. Lady Dillworth's eagerness intensifies, and doubts spring up in her mind. What if the charade should prove a failure after all? She is nervous at having to sing in character, and angry with herself for her trepidation. She even tells Walter of her cowardice; and after the last rehearsal, as he goes away, she implores him to help her as much as he possibly can.
'Do, do come early, and manage everything, for I feel as if I were going to break down in the very midst. Recollect, the whole responsibility of making it a success rests on you.'
Walter promises all she requires; but Katie is not convinced, and her doubts increase as the time draws near.
The morning of that day does not begin auspiciously. A fierce storm has been raging for many hours. When the Admiral glances over the newspapers at breakfast, his face becomes grave as he reads down the long list of disasters and wrecks. Presently the footman hands him a letter, and then his face becomes still graver.
'Anything wrong, Herbert?' asks her Ladyship.
'A ship aground on the Short Reefs,' replies he shortly.
'O dear, how dreadful! What is the name of the ship, Sir Herbert?' asks Liddy clasping her hands, and opening her eyes very wide.
'The Daring; and unless they get her off at the top of spring-tide, I fear she will go to pieces on the rocks.'
The Admiral drinks his coffee quickly, and prepares to leave the room.
'Where are you going, Herbert? You haven't taken half a breakfast.'
'I can't stay, Kate; for I must give orders about sending off help to the Daring.'
'Are any lives lost?'
'Not so far, I'm thankful to say. I hope we shall have her afloat before long;' and he goes to the library with the letter in his hand.
Lady Dillworth is very busy that morning, and not the least of her engagements is trying on her 'Lucia' dress. Before she goes up to her dressing-room on this important business, she runs into the library to ask Sir Herbert what time he is to be home to dinner. But the room is empty. The Admiral must have been called out suddenly, for a letter, still glowing with wet ink, lies open on his desk. His wife glances at it in passing, then pauses, and bends over it closely. The words are few, written off in her husband's bold dashing hand, and the contents are evidently for her father. It is an order for the Leo to be despatched at once to the assistance of the unfortunate Daring.
Lady Dillworth stands aghast. How can the charade party get on without Captain Reeves? It will be an utter disappointment, and she will be overwhelmed with mortification and vexation in the eyes of all her guests!
'Why did Herbert fix on the Leo? There are numbers of other ships; any one of them would do as well. The Leoni, for instance,' she exclaims half aloud.
In an instant the pen is in her hand, and with an impulse that seems irresistible she adds two letters to the Leo's name, and is surprised to see how exactly she has imitated her husband's writing.
'Of course I must tell Herbert, and explain why I did it. What will he think of my daring?' she asks laughingly, as she returns the pen to its place.
Then she goes up-stairs, and is soon closeted with her dressmaker; and the recollection of ships and all such matters is soon banished from her memory; for the dress is an odious fit! The alterations required are legion. Madame Darcy may be clever at fashionable modern dress; but in medieval costume she has failed utterly. Katie waits patiently while the assistant, with scissors and needle, brings the garment into wearable shape. After the woman is gone, Lady Dillworth recollects about the letter, and returns to the library to tell her husband of the change she has made in it. But the letter has vanished, and the footman meets her with a message.
'My Lady, Sir Herbert told me to say he would not be home to dinner.'
'Did your master say where he was going?'
'No, my Lady; but the groom told me he was called off to Hillview, and was to go by the twelve o'clock train; and it's half-past twelve now, my Lady.'
So there is no help for it; the explanation cannot be given now; and Katie is fain to console herself by thinking that one ship is as good as another, and it can't matter much whether the Leo or the Leoni goes off to the rescue.
The day passes quickly. When it grows dark, Katie and Liddy, still in their morning dresses, and shivering a little from the cold, find their way up to Lady Dillworth's 'boudoir'—a cosy retreat, with its bright fire and closely drawn curtains. Here are Katie's books, her writing-table, and all the odds and ends that somehow gather in work-boxes and baskets. Here are periodicals uncut, for she has not had much time for reading of late, and drawing materials which are rarely touched.
On a round table near the fire is spread a delicately pink-tinted set of tea-things; and Dresden china baskets filled with tea-cakes and shortbread give promise of a dainty little meal. Miss Delmere, in a most becoming morning dress, with a warm blue shawl round her shoulders, plunges herself into the depths of a large arm-chair, places her feet on the fender-stool, and looks up brightly out of her merry blue eyes.
'How cosy this is, Kate! I'm quite enjoying it.' She pours a supply of cream into her fragrant tea and sips with keen relish.
'I wish Herbert were here,' sighs Katie in reply.
'Is he dining at Hillview this evening?'
'I hardly know, for he left no message about that; but I rather think he will dine at Belton Park, which is only a couple of miles from Hillview.'
'Is Lady Ribson gone back to Scotland yet?'
'No; she leaves Belton Park to-morrow; and I'm so sorry I have never once seen her, for Herbert is very desirous we should know each other. I believe old Lady Ribson is his beau idéal of what a woman should be. She is his god-mother; and her niece Bessie was his first wife.'
'You've never had time to go to Belton Park, Katie.'
'I know that; but I'm sorry now I didn't "make time," by setting other things aside. This hateful charade business has taken up every spare minute.'
'Hateful!' echoes Liddy reproachfully.
'Perhaps that is too strong a term; but the preparations have swallowed up all my time and everything else.'
'Don't begin to croak at the last minute. I mean to enjoy myself thoroughly!' exclaims Liddy, putting her cup down for more tea. Then she asks confidentially: 'Do you think Sir Herbert altered? Captain Reeves says he never saw a man aged so much in so short a time: he thinks the Admiral looks very ill.'
Lady Dillworth starts up impatiently: 'I don't know why Captain Reeves should think any such thing. My husband is not ill; I have never once heard him complain.'
'Ah! his is one of those grand reserved natures that would rather suffer anything than make a moan,' says Liddy, stirring her tea calmly.
'Why did you not tell me about Herbert's looking ill before, Liddy? I declare you make me quite uneasy.'
'Oh, I daresay it's all imagination on Walter's part. I'm sorry I ever mentioned it,' Liddy replies quickly.
'You needn't regret telling me; for if there is anything the matter, I ought to know it.'
Liddy is vexed at having introduced so disquieting a subject, for Katie remains silent and thoughtful during the rest of the repast, then goes languidly up-stairs to dress for the party.