"There is. One stops at Northbury to take up the mails at a quarter to twelve. I shall go by it."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"By no means. Of what use would you be?"
"I don't know. Perhaps not of any use, and yet long ago when you had headaches, Kitty could cure them."
There was something so pathetic and so unwonted in Catherine's tone that Mrs. Bertram was quite touched. She bent forward, placed her hand under the young chin, raised the handsome face, and printed a kiss on the brow.
"Kitty shall help her mother best by staying at home," she said. "Seriously, my love. I must leave you in charge here. Not only in charge of the house, of the servants, of Mabel—but—of my secret."
"What secret, mother?"
"I don't want any one here to know that I have gone to London."
Catherine thought a moment.
"I know you are not going to give me your reasons," she said, after a pause. "But why do you tell me there is a secret?"