'Worse, I believe. A life like that is better ended.'
'God doesn't think so, that is evident,' said Catherine.
CHAPTER III
Uncle Jack
Mrs. Arderne made Catherine give a full account of her visit to Uncle Ross, but wisely refrained from commenting upon the recital, knowing that her companion would be distressed by any expression of her own firm opinion that a fortune and a good position were to be had for even less than the asking. The kindly-natured, worldly woman was quite excited over Catherine's prospects, though she dared not speak of them. A rich, lonely old uncle, with no relatives near him but a brother from whom he was estranged, and that brother's invalid ward, a girl twelve years of age,—where could Catherine be more sure to find a benevolent patron for Brian North (if she was resolved to be faithful to her promise to him), or to whom could she more reasonably look for help in her orphanhood and poverty?
But Catherine was such an oddly unpractical, independent young woman that she absolutely refused to speculate as to her chances! For this reason, Mrs. Arderne felt positively bound to speculate for her, and to persuade her to behave to Uncle Ross in a manner likely to please him. Needless to say, therefore, she strongly disapproved of Catherine's intention of visiting Uncle Jack on this, her first whole day at Beverbridge.
'My dear child, you really ought not to go roaming about the country after nightfall,' she remonstrated.
Ted and Toddie had just been sent back to the nursery, after the usual game of play following upon dessert, and Catherine's cheeks were flushed, her brown hair rumpled by exercise. She was now seated on a low stool at Mrs. Arderne's side, smiling up at her confidentially.
'Why, I simply couldn't get lost on a starlight night,—besides, I have a compass on my watch-chain! Do you think I relied upon the aid of street-lamps and sign-posts in Australia? Uncle Jack lives quite near us, in a bye-lane or street of the village. The postman looked so pleased just now when I asked him about Colonel John Carmichael! "The nicest gentleman I ever met, miss," he said. "Quite one of the old sort. There's no telling the kindnesses he's shown to the poor; not so much money-giving, for folk do say he isn't well off enough for himself, but in other ways, that mean more, usually. Oh, that village postman is quite a philosopher, I assure you!'