Though she despised herself for it, this gave a new turn to Katherine’s thoughts too. Lady Somers! yes, that was what Stella was now. That little title, though it was not an exalted one, would have an effect upon the general opinion, however lofty might be the theories expressed, as to the insignificance of rank. Rank; it was the lowest grade of anything that could be called rank. And yet it would have a certain effect on the general mind. She was even conscious of feeling it herself, notwithstanding both the indignation and the sorrow in her mind. “My sister, Lady Somers!” Was it possible that she could say it with a certain pleasure, as if it explained more or less now (a question which had always been so difficult) who the Tredgolds were, and what they were worth in the island. Now Katherine suddenly realised that people would say, “One of the daughters married Sir Charles Somers.” It would be acknowledged that in that case the Tredgolds might be people to know. Katherine’s pride revolted, yet her judgment recognised the truth of it. And she wondered involuntarily if it would affect her father—if he would think of that?
“Is my father awake yet, Simmons?” she asked.
“Beginning to stir, Miss Katherine,” Dolby said. “How clever they are, them doctors, with their sleeping draffs and things! Oh, I’m quite opposed to ’em. I don’t think as it’s right to force sleep or anything as is contrary to the Almighty’s pleasure. But to be such nasty stuff, the effeck it do have is wonderful. Your papa, as was so excited like and ready to shoot all of us, right and left, he has slep’ like a baby all these hours. And waking up now, Dolby says, like a lamb, and ready for his breakfast.”
“I must go to him at once, Simmons,” cried Katherine, thrusting back into Simmons’s hand the cup and the spoon.
“You won’t do nothing of the sort, Miss, if so be as you’ll be guided by me. He’ll not think of it just at once, and he’ll eat his breakfast, which will do him a lot of good, and if he don’t see you, why, he’ll never remember as anything’s up. And then when he comes to think, Dolby will call you, Miss Katherine, if the doctor isn’t here first, which would be the best way.”
“I think I ought to go to him at once,” Katherine said. But she did not do so. It was no pleasant task. His looks when he burst forth into those oaths and curses (though she had herself felt not very long ago as if to do the same might have been a relief to her surcharged and sickened soul), and when he lay, with his keen small eyes gleaming red with passion, in his bed, looking at her, came back to her with a shudder. Perhaps she had not a very elevated ideal of a father. The name did not imply justice or even tenderness to her mind. Katherine was well aware that he had never done her justice all her life. He had been kind—enough; but his kindness had been very different from the love he had shown to Stella. He had elevated the younger sister over the elder since ever the children had known how to distinguish between good and evil. But still he was papa. It might be that an uneasy feeling that she was not proud of her father had visited the girl’s mind more than once, when she saw him among other men; but still he was papa just as Stella was Stella, and therefore like no one else, whatever they might say or do. She did not like to go to him again, to renew his misery and her own, to hear him curse the girl whom he had adored, to see that dreadful look as if of a fiend in his face. Her own feelings had fallen into a sort of quietude now by means of exhaustion, and of the slow, slow moments, which felt every one of them as if it were an hour.
It was some time longer before she was called. Mr. Tredgold had got up; he had made his toilet, and gone down to his sitting-room, which communicated with his bedroom by a little private staircase. And it was only when he was there that his eyes fell on his clock, and he cried with a start:
“Half-past twelve, and I just come downstairs! What does this mean—what does it mean? Why wasn’t I called at the right time?”
“You had a—a restless night, sir,” said the man, trembling. (“Oh, where’s that Miss Katherine, where’s that young person,” he said to himself.)
“A restless night! And why had I a restless night? No supper, eh? Never eat supper now. Girls won’t let me. Hollo! I begin to remember. Wasn’t there an alarm of burglars? And none of you heard, you deaf fools; nobody but me, an old man! I let go one barrel at them, eh? Enough to send them all flying. Great fun that. And then Katherine, Katherine—what do I remember about Katherine? Stopped me before I could do anything, saying there was nobody. Fool, to mind what she said; quite sure there was somebody, eh? Can’t you tell me what it was?”