To leave fate to manage matters was the best plan, and to be ready to give a helping hand at the critical moment.
Mordryn was certainly suffering deeply or he would have returned to London, instead of staying on at Valfreyne.
Not by word or insinuation did she ever indicate to Katherine that she had remarked the Duke's interest in her, or the apparent cooling of it. Indeed, since that day at the Easter party when she had lightly spoken of his coming to the schoolroom, she had never mentioned him to her secretary in connection with herself at all. So on the surface everything was calm and peaceful, and life flowed in its accustomed stream.
Mordryn must be made to come to Berkeley Square again as of old, and he must not be allowed to see Katherine for some time. He must get into the way of dropping in as usual without fear.
And in the third week after Whitsuntide, the Duke returned to town and did dine there, and Miss Bush was nowhere to be seen. He had spent very miserable days down in his beautiful home. He had not reached the stage of reason yet, he was merely fighting desire with all his might—while daily it grew stronger.
How cold her hand had been when they had said a polite good-bye on the Tuesday morning; he could feel it through the glove! How pale her face had looked, too! He hoped to God she was not suffering; that would be too cruel, and he could not feel guiltless if it were so. He had certainly played upon her feelings, although in the most subtle manner, which made his conduct the more cowardly and inexcusable. This thought brought extreme discomfort, and plunged him into frantic work. He filled all his hours with the business of his estate, in order to banish memory, but with no great success, so at last he came up to London, determined to crush out every weakness. But when he went to Berkeley Square to dine he felt agitated, and he knew that he was fearing and yet hoping to see Katherine.
But he caught no glimpse of her, nor was she even mentioned, it was as though she had never been. He grew anxious—had she left Seraphim's service? This must be ascertained immediately, before he left the house.
"Miss Bush is not dining to-night, Seraphim?" he said, after dinner, when he had a moment with his hostess. "I hope she is well?"
"Yes, thanks," and Her Ladyship turned the conversation at once, so that he was left with this meagre information.
As he drove away to St. James's, he found himself thinking incessantly of the girl.