Meanwhile, Katherine Bush had got into an omnibus and was on the way to Victoria, and once arrived at Laburnum Villa and her attic, she carefully wrote down on the little book which she kept for jottings, "Mademoiselle de Maupin, in a book by Théophile Gautier," while her thoughts ran:
"He did not say what was the name of the story, but I can read the whole lot this man wrote. I'll go to a French library on Monday."
Then she sat down in her armchair by the fire and reviewed the entire chain of events.
She was embarked upon a new current which would help to carry her to some definite goal—she was out of the backwater. It was not a voyage to Cythera, but youth was at the prow, and ambition, not pleasure, at the helm; and there live philosophers who say these two things bring more lasting good than all the bliss that is to be snatched from the other combination.—Who knows!—They may be right!
Matilda was nervous with excitement when after supper she was told of the definite settlement of her sister's affairs.
"So you are really engaged, Kitten!" she exclaimed. "Now, do tell me all about it. There's a dear—and what was she like, and is it a grand house and are you going to be properly treated as a real lady?"
"Yes, I am engaged. I am to go in on Wednesday, 'bag and baggage,' as Lady Garribardine said."
"My! what a vulgar expression for a lady to use, Kitten—are you sure she's all right?"
Matilda hated what was not genteel.
"Oh! yes, Tild—she's all right—and the house is beautiful—and, yes, what you'd call grand—and you may be sure they will treat me exactly in the way I deserve to be treated. If you aren't respected it's your own fault—people don't make a mistake as to whom they are with a second time, even if they do the first. If anyone gets put upon continually, or gets snubbed, it's her own fault."