But the devil was there also. He whispered to her now the last sentence that David had spoken: “I belong to another!”
Up to that moment Marcia had been a very negative factor in the affair to Kate’s mind. She had been annoyed and angry at her as one whose ignorance and impertinence had brought her into an affair where she did not belong, but now she suddenly faced the fact that Marcia must be reckoned with. Marcia the child, who had for years been her slave and done her bidding, had arisen in her way, and she hated her with a sudden vindictive hate that would have killed without flinching if the opportunity had presented at that moment. Kate had no idea how utterly uncontrolled was her whole nature. She was at the mercy of any passing passion. Hate and revenge took possession of her now. With flashing eyes she rose to her feet, brushing her tumbled hair back and wiping away angry tears. She was too much agitated to notice that some one had knocked at the front door and been admitted, and when Harry Temple walked into the room he found her standing so with hands clenched together, and tears flowing down her cheeks unchecked.
Now a woman in tears, when the tears were not caused by his own actions, was Harry’s opportunity. He had ways of comforting which were as unscrupulous as they generally proved effective, and so with affectionate tenderness he took Kate’s hand and held it impressively, calling her “dear.” He spoke soothing words, smoothed her hair, and kissed her flushed cheeks and eyes. It was all very pleasant to Kate’s hurt pride. She let Harry comfort her, and pet her a while, and at last he said:
“Now tell me all about it, dear. I saw Lord Spafford trail dejectedly away from here looking like death, and I come here and find my lady in a fine fury. What has happened? If I mistake not the insufferable cad has got badly hurt, but it seems to have ruffled the lady also.”
This helped. It was something to feel that David was suffering. She wanted him to suffer. He had brought shame and humiliation upon her. She never realized that the thing that shamed her was that he thought her better than she was.
“He is offensively good. I hate him!” she remarked as a kitten might who had got hurt at playing with a mouse in a trap.
The man’s face grew bland with satisfaction.
“Not so good, my lady, but that he has been making love to you, if I mistake not, and he with a wife at home.” The words were said quietly, but there was more of a question in them than the tone conveyed. The man wished to have evidence against his enemy.
Kate colored uneasily and drooped her lashes.
Harry studied her face keenly, and then went on cautiously: