Despite Mrs. Ormonde's assurances that De Burgh had quite forgotten her, the news that he was once more in town disturbed Katherine. Unless some new fancy had driven her out of his head, she felt sure that his first step in the new and independent existence on which he had entered would be to seek her out and renew the offer he had twice made before. Money or no money, position, circumstances, all were but a feather-weight compared to the imperative necessity of having his own way.
It would be very painful to be obliged to refuse him again, for, in spite of her grave disapprobation of him in many ways, she liked him, and had a certain degree of confidence in him. There were the possibilities of a good character even in his faults, and it grieved her to be obliged to pain him.
"After all, I may be troubling myself about a vain image; it is more than a month since I saw him. He is now a wealthy peer, and it is impossible to say how circumstances may have changed him."
When Mrs. Needham had dressed for the dinner which was to precede Madam Caravicelli's reception, Katherine put on her bonnet and cloak and set off to spend a couple of hours with Rachel Trant, not only to avoid a lonely evening, but to change the current of her thoughts—loneliness and thought being her greatest enemies at present.
She had grown quite accustomed to make her way by omnibus, and as the days grew longer and the weather finer, she hoped to be able to walk across Campden Hill, not only shortening the distance but saving the fare. A visit to Rachel amused Katherine and drew her out of herself more than anything; the details of the business and management of property which she felt was her own had a large amount of interest—real, living interest. The state of the books, the increase of custom, the addition to the small capital which Rachel was gradually accumulating—all these were subjects not easily exhausted. Both partners agreed that their great object, now that the undertaking was beginning to maintain itself, was to lay by all they could, for of course bad debts and bad times would come.
"It is a great satisfaction to think that though people may do without books or pictures or music, they must wear clothes; and if you fit well, and are punctual, you are certain to have customers. Of course if you give credit you must charge high; people are beginning to see that now. You cannot get ready money in the dressmaking trade except for those costumes you give for a certain fixed price; but I stand out for quarterly accounts."
"And do you find no difficulty in getting them paid?"
"Not much; you see, I deduct five per cent. for punctual payment. Every one tries to save that five per cent. But talking of these things has put a curious incident out of my head, which I was longing to tell you. You remember among my first customers were Mrs. Fairchild and her daughters. They keep a very high class ladies' school in Inverness Terrace, and have been excellent customers. Yesterday Miss Fairchild called and said that she wanted an entire outfit for a little girl of ten or eleven, who was to be with them. They did not wish for anything fine or showy; at the same time, cost was no object. I was to furnish everything, to save time. This morning they brought the child to be fitted; she is very tall and thin, but lithe and supple, with dark hair, and large, bright, dark-brown eyes. She will be very handsome. I could not quite make her out; she is not an ordinary gentlewoman, nor is she the very least vulgar or common. She gives me more the idea of a wild thing not quite tamed. When all was settled I was told to address the account to Mr. George Liddell, Grosvenor Hotel."
"Why, it must be my cousin George!" cried Katherine. "How strange that in this huge town they should fix on you amongst the thousands of dressmakers! You must make my little cousin look very smart, Rachel."
"She is not little. She is wonderfully mature for ten years old, something like a panther."