"She is not coming to-day," snapped Miss Payne; "she is not coming till Saturday."
"Indeed!" In a changed tone, "I hope she is all right?"
"It's hard to answer that. It seems one of the nephews has had a feverish cold, and she did not like to leave him. I do not feel sure there is not some real reason under this, for she adds that she is anxious to see and consult me about some matter she has much at heart. Perhaps there is a man at the bottom of it."
"I hope not," said Bertie, quietly, "unless she has found some former friend at Castleford. I do not think Miss Liddell is the sort of girl to accept a man on five or six weeks' acquaintance, and she has scarcely been at Castleford so long."
"It is impossible to fathom the folly of women when a lover is in the case."
"You are hard, Hannah."
"I do not care whether I am or not. I don't want to lose Miss Liddell before the time agreed for."
"No doubt she is a profitable—"
"It is no question of profit," interrupted Miss Payne, grimly. "Whether she goes or whether she stays she is bound to me financially for twelve months. But I am interested in Katherine, and it will be far better for her to stay on here and feel her way before she launches into the whirl of what they call society. I want to save her for a while from the wild rush of dressing, driving, dining, dancing, that has swept away all my girls sooner or later. Look here: the mothers are flocking round her already." She began to take the cards out of the dish and read the names: "Lady Mary Vincent, 23 Waldegrave Crescent; she is a sister of that Lord Melford who ran such a rig years ago. Her boys are still at Eton. I suppose she comes because her niece and Miss Liddell have struck up a friendship at Castleford. Then here are Mrs. and Miss Alford; we all knew them in Rome; there's a son there; they are respectable people, well off, and fighting their way up judiciously enough. Lady Barrington; she has a nephew, but she will be useful. Mr. and Mrs. Tracey; they were at Florence, and have a couple of daughters; there may be a nephew or a cousin, but I never heard of one; they are pleasant, sensible, artistic people, who just enjoy themselves and don't trouble. Lady Mildred Reptan, Miss Brereton, John de Burgh; I don't know these. All these people evidently think she is in town, or have only just come themselves, but you see the outlook."
"John de Burgh," repeated Bertie, thoughtfully. "I remember something about him; nothing particularly good. I believe he is on the turf. Yes, he is a famous steeple-chase rider, and rather fast—not too desirable a follower for Miss Liddell."