This was a pleasant interlude to Katherine. She had succeeded in hushing her heart to rest for a while, in banishing the thoughts which had long tormented her. Nothing had comforted and satisfied her as did this project of adopting her nephews. It is true she had not yet announced it, but in her own mind she resolved that once they were under her wing, she would not let them go again, unless indeed something quite unforeseen occurred; nor did she anticipate any difficulties with their mother. She would thus secure a natural legitimate interest in life, and make a home, which to a girl of her disposition was essential. Yet she knew well that in renouncing the idea of marriage she was denying one of the strongest necessities of her nature. The love and companionship of a man in whom she believed, for whom she could be ambitious, who would link her with the life and movement of the outer world, who would be the complement of her own being, was a dream of delight. Not that she felt in the least unable to stand alone, or fancied she was too delicate to take care of herself, but life without the love of another self could never be full and perfect. She was too true a woman not to value deeply the tenderness of a man; yet she had firmly resolved in justice to herself, in fairness to any possible husband, to renounce that crown of woman's existence. It was the only atonement she could make. Well, at least her loving care of these dear little boys, who were in point of fact motherless, would in some degree expiate her evil deed, and would keep her heart warm and her mind healthy.
Possessed of the true magic, "money," obstacles faded away. The expedition to Sandbourne was most successful. Katherine was brighter than Miss Payne had ever seen her before. The day was sunny, the place looked cheerful and picturesque. It lay under a wooded hill, ending in a bold rocky point, which sheltered it and a wide bay from the easterly winds. A splendid stretch of golden sands offered a playground for the racing waves, and an old tower crowned an islet near the opposite point of the land, which there lay low, and was covered with gorse and heather.
There was an objectionable row of lodging-houses, against which must be entered a low, red-brick, ivy-grown inn, old-fashioned, picturesque, and comfortable. One or two villas stood in their own grounds but were occupied, and one, evidently older was shut up.
Perhaps because it was inaccessible, perhaps because it had a pleasant outlook across the bay to the island and tower at its western extremity, Katherine at once determined it was the very place to suit them, and made her way to the local house agent to see what could be done toward securing it. Cliff Cottage was not on his books, said the agent; but if the lady wished "he would apply to the owner, who had gone with his wife in search of health to the Riviera. In the meantime there is Amanda Villa, at the other end of Beach Terrace, very comfortable and elegantly furnished"—pointing to a glaring white edifice with a Belvedere tower in would-be Italian style. "I don't think you could find anything better." But the aspect of Amanda Villa did not please either lady, so they returned to Cliff Cottage: and remarking a thin curl of blue smoke from one of the chimneys, they ventured to make their way to a side entrance, where their knocking was answered by an old deaf caretaker, who, for a consideration, permitted them to inspect the house. It proved to be all Katherine wished. Though the furniture was scanty and worn, it was clean and well kept, and "We can easily get what is necessary," she concluded, with the sense of power which always goes with a full purse.
"Let us go back to the agent and get the address of the owner."
"Better make your offer through him," returned Miss Payne, and Katherine complied.
The days which succeeded seemed very long. Katherine had taken a fancy to the quaint pretty abode, and was impatient to be settled there with her boys. There was a "preparatory school for young gentlemen," which was an additional attraction to Sandbourne, both children being extremely ignorant even for their tender years; and Katherine was greatly opposed to Colonel Ormonde's intention of sending Cecil away to a boarding-school. She wished him to have some preliminary training before he was plunged into the difficulties of a large boarding-school. To Colonel Ormonde her will was law, and if only she could get the house she wanted, all would go well.
Of course Katherine lost no time in visiting her protegee Rachel. She had written to her during her absence to let her feel that she was not forgotten; and the replies were not only well written and expressed, but showed a degree of intelligence above the average.
When Katherine entered the room where Rachel sat at work she was touched and delighted at the sudden brightening of Rachel's sunken eyes, the joyous flush that rose to her cheek.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I did not expect you so soon. How good of you to come!" She placed a chair, and in reply to Katherine's friendly question, "How have you been going on?" Rachel gave an encouraging account of herself. Mrs. Needham had introduced her to two families, both of whom wished her to work in the house, which, though infinitely disagreeable to her, she did not like to refuse.