Her first thought on awakening was, “What shall I wear? I cannot go to breakfast in a white silk gown.” Then, as she rose, she saw a street costume laid ready for her use. “Mrs. Atheling sent it very early this morning,” said the maid; and Kate thought with a blessing of the good mother who never forgot her smallest necessities. At breakfast, the Duchess was particularly gracious to her; she affected an entire oblivion of Piers’s evident devotion, and talked incessantly of the stupidity of the Grey Ministry; but as she rose from the table, she said,–
“My dear Miss Atheling, will you do me the favour to come to my private parlour before you leave?”
Kate stood up, curtsied slightly, and made the required promise. But she did not at once attend the Duchess, as that lady certainly expected. She had promised Piers to walk with him in the conservatory, and finish their interrupted conversation of the previous night; and a gentle pressure of her hand reminded her of this previous engagement. So it was near the noon hour when she went to the room which the Duchess had selected for their interview.
She entered it without a suspicion of the sorrow waiting there for her, though the first glance at the cold, haughty face that greeted her made her a little indignant. “I expected you an hour ago, Miss Atheling,” said the Duchess.
“I am sorry if I have detained you, Duchess. I did not think my interview with you could be of much importance.”
“Perhaps not as important to you as the interview you put before it–and yet, perhaps, far more so. For I must tell you that such entirely personal companionship with Lord Exham, must cease from this very hour.”
Kate had taken the seat the Duchess indicated on her entering the room; she now rose to her feet, and answered, “If so, Duchess, it is proper for me to leave your home at once. My mother is waiting to see me. She will tell me what it is right for me to do.”
“In this case, I am a better adviser than your mother. I believe you to be a girl of noble principles, so I tell you frankly that Lord Exham is bound, by every honourable tie, to marry Miss Vyner. When you are not present, he is quite happy in her society; when you are present, you seem to exert some unaccountable influence over him. Miss Vyner has often complained of this. I thought it was simple jealousy on her part, until I observed you with Lord Exham last night. I am now compelled, by my duty to my son and his affianced wife, to tell you how impossible a marriage between you and Lord Exham is and must be. I believe this information to be all that is necessary to a girl of your birth and breeding.”
“What information, Duchess?” She asked the question with a dignity that irritated a woman who thought her word, without her reasons, was quite sufficient.
“If you persist in having the truth, I must give it to you. Remember, I would gladly have spared you and myself this humiliation. Know, then, that many years ago the late General Vyner rendered the Duke a great service. When Annabel was born, the Duke offered himself as her godfather and guardian, and his son as her husband. It is not necessary to go into details; the facts ought to be sufficient for you. There are circumstances which make the fulfilment of this promise imperative; and, if you do not interfere, my son will very willingly perform his part of it. Pardon me if I also remind you that your birth and fortune make any hopes you may entertain of being the future Duchess of Richmoor very presumptuous hopes. I assure you that I have spoken reluctantly, and with sincere kindness; and I do not desire this conversation to interfere with our future intercourse. If you will give me your promise, I know that I may trust you absolutely.”