The Career of Katherine Bush Read online

  CHAPTER V

  "Darling pet! What a delightful surprise!"

  "Algy! Where did you spring from?"

  Then they both drew quick breaths.

  "Come back towards the Serpentine, I must talk to you. Your horridlittle note made me feel quite wretched, and I have been to Liv andDev's to-day, and they refused to give me your address--why were yousuch a little cat, darling?"

  "I was not a cat, Algy."

  They had turned and were walking towards the Row.

  "I meant what I wrote--I want you to forget all about me. Joys can't goon--I have other things to do, dear."

  "But it is perfectly brutal of you, Katherine, when I love you so--andyou love me--at least you told me that you did!"

  Katherine Bush's heart was beating very fast--would she have courage tokeep to her determination now that she saw him face to face?

  He looked so extremely delectable, here in the lowering sunshine. He waseverything that a woman could desire in the way of a lover.

  "I am in the hell of a mess, too," he sighed. "My father has cut upawfully rough about my transactions with Liv and Dev--and I had a badweek at Doncaster. I am in for a regular facer and am obliged to agreeto be transferred to the Egyptian army for three years. Everything, evenyou, are against me."

  "No, I am not, Algy." There was quick sympathy and distress in her deepvoice. "I hate to think that you are unhappy, and you know that I wouldhelp you in any way I could."

  "Then be kind to me, darling--and don't say you never want to see meagain."

  Katherine Bush felt this was a supreme occasion--and that she must notwaver. She so longed to comfort him, to let him kiss her and forget allhis cares. The cynical side of her character, even at this movingmoment, whispered that it was fortunate that they were out of doors!

  "When do you start for Egypt?"

  "As soon as I can get ready--my mother and sisters are going to winterout there, but probably I shall be sent to the Soudan!"

  Katherine had heard that they killed lions or something in that part ofthe world, she knew that sport meant a great deal in Lord Algy's life.

  "You will get some kind of shooting, won't you?" she suggested by way ofconsolation.

  But Lord Algy looked full of misery. They had walked on, taking a sidepath and were now in sight of two chairs.

  "Let us go and sit down," he pleaded. "I want to look at you. I can't, Iwon't believe, that you don't mean ever to be my own girl any more."

  "Algy, I do mean it--just as much for you as for myself."

  They had reached the chairs and sat down, Lord Algy pushed his hat tothe back of his head; his immaculately brushed hair glistened bronze inthe setting sun, and his forehead was puckered with distress. Hisattractive eyes sought hers with a fond persistence. Katherine Bush wasobliged to clench her hands tight in the pockets of her coat.

  "Why, what in Heaven's name for? Why must we part?" he demandedfiercely. "Katherine, I have missed you awfully--I have not known whatto do with myself--and before this bother fell upon me, I had determinedto come up to ask you to marry me--we'd be awfully happy married,darling--like we were in Paris. I have never loved anything half so muchas our time together."

  "It is dear of you to say that, but I would not marry you for anythingin the world, it would spoil everything, destroy a memory that has notgot any flaw in it.--Listen to me, Algy--I went with you because Iwanted to--I wanted to understand life, and find out what is worthwhile, and what men are like. I am only at the beginning of existenceand I intend to learn most of its meaning before I die. I thought thatwhatever cold, tiresome path I might have to follow afterwards, to carryout my scheme of things, I would at least have some good hours toremember with you, so I went deliberately--but I never meant to do itagain. Let's both be grateful for what we have had and part friends."

  "I simply can't," protested Lord Algy, growing more and more full ofemotion, as he felt the attainment of his desires receding from him. "Icall it awfully cold-blooded of you, Katherine, and I can't and won'tconsent to it. I want you--I want you now--to-night," and he stretchedout his arms. "I am sick with longing for you--I mean it, darling. Ihave been away with other girls often before, Jack Kilcourcy and Istayed down the river with Laure de Laine and Mary Green this June.Laure was my friend, and she simply wasn't a patch on you, pet, in anyway, and I didn't care a straw when it was over, although they are suchcelebrities, and it did make Berty Aberhams so mad, and was such a scoreoff the bounder. I have never felt anything like I feel for you,darling--I want you to be my wife."

  As he spoke, something withered a little in Katherine Bush; hisunconscious placing of the affair galled her, although she knew that itwas perfectly just; she had gone with him under no other pretence thanhad gone those ladies of the Frivolity Theatre. She analysed his simpledirectness, and appreciated the triumph conveyed to her in the finalexpression of his feelings, but it made her task rather easier. She sawso plainly what a renewal of their relations would mean. She looked andlooked at him, seated dejectedly there beside her, and then she spoke,and her voice was full of quiet determination and very deep.

  "You must be a man, Algy, dear, and go on and make something of yourlife, as I mean to do. You must be a great soldier. You come of such agrand old family, you ought to remember what all your ancestors havedone, and try to be as fine as they were--It's so paltry to drift--Youcan remember me if you want to--as someone who wasn't weak, even thoughI am only a common girl, and much beneath you in class. If I was of yourclass I should now be tempted to marry you, and then I expect with mysort of nature I'd just shove you on into doing something great. But Icouldn't as it is, all my time would be taken up with trying to educatemyself to keep my own head above water, and trying to suppress myhumiliation at the contempt of your friends. You are only a younger son,and they would never forgive you, and we would just lead a hole andcorner sort of existence in wretched poverty, and grow to have quarrelsand not love at all."

  "'You must ... go on and make something of your life, asI mean to do.'"]

  He was going to interrupt her but she put her grey gloved hand acrosshis lips. "No, dear, don't say anything--I want to go away from you withthe memory that you have asked me to be your wife--I cannot be that forboth our sakes, and it would cut me to the heart to hear you say words,now that you know this, which would mean that you want me, failing that,to go on with the other relation."--She paused, for a second, andleaning forward, looked straight into his face--"Algy, I want toremember you as a really perfect gentleman."

  She had gained her point with this last appeal. She saw that in aninstant; he straightened himself and raised his handsome head, while thepride of race looked forth from his eyes for a moment, and then wasquenched by the mist of tears.

  "You are a splendid girl, Katherine," he said in a choking voice, "a fargreater lady than the rotters I have to dance with at balls and see asmy sisters' friends. You--by Jove! you have taught me to respect women.I should be honoured if you would marry me, and my family ought to bejolly glad to get such a good sort among them!"

  "Thank you, Algy!" her voice now trembled, too. "Then you understand,dear, and I want you to do just as well as you can in Egypt--and,and--Algy, do try not to spend so much money, and when they have paid upfor you, don't go and get back into any moneylender's hands. They arenot all so honest as Liv and Dev. And now I want to say good-bye! Idon't want to be silly and--cry----"

  "Oh! it's too cruel!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands. "Katherine, youare like--only I think you mean to be kinder than she was--_Mademoisellede Maupin_!"

  She stiffened, and her eyes, which were growing very misty, became hardand bright. She thought he was referring to another lady of thehalf-world--of Paris, perhaps, this time. He saw that she hadmisunderstood him, and he added quickly:

  "Darling, she is in a book--by a fellow called Theophile Gautier--shewas a wonder and so are you--I've always thought you were like her,but--Oh! why do we talk such bosh about books in our few moments, I wantto te
ll you that I love you. Oh! Katherine, if you knew how much!"

  The hardness all melted from the young woman's grey-green eyes and wasreplaced by a divine sweetness.

  "Algy," she whispered, "it is good to hear that, and you know that Ilove you, too, and now good-bye, my dear--I can't bear any more."

  She rose quickly and drew her hand away. She passionately longed for himto take her in his arms.

  He got up also, he was extremely pale, and more than a suspicion of misthung upon his eyelashes. As a young, splendid lover, he could not havelooked more desirable, but Katherine Bush never lost her head.

  "Good-bye, Algy, and God bless you, dear."

  Two people were approaching or he certainly would have kissed her--as itwas they only wrung each other's hands and Katherine Bush turned andwalked into the gathering twilight.

  He watched her until she had disappeared and then sat down again. Hefelt quite wretched. She seemed to him to be a wonderful character.

  "What an impotent wretch I am beside her," he said to himself. "But Ishould never be able to make the family see it. My mother would ratherI married Elaine Percival with her five thousand a year--" then helaughed contemptuously--"Elaine Percival!"

  For the first time in his life he began to reason about things.Katherine Bush was of course perfectly right. Marriage would have beenmadness, as he had always known before he became too much in love tothink; and he knew he had been lately only entirely influenced byselfish desire, and had never so much as faced what the consequenceswould be either to himself or to her. He had been quite ready to make ahash of both their lives just because he wanted her so badly for themoment. What an incredible fool--and she, this fine girl, had pulledthem both on to firm land. He was not of the type who could contemplateasking a woman to wait for him while he worked to obtain a home for her;such an idea, of course, never entered his head. He had no romanticillusions of this sort, and once having realised the hopelessness of thecase he had stoicism enough to accept it. But the things she had saidaffected him deeply. He would try not to drift.--He would pull himselftogether and do his best to become a fine soldier. They should not sayhe had grumbled over going to Egypt. Oh! if there could only be a war,that he might go out and fight! But wars would never happen again atthis time of the world's day!

  The present pleasant, easy stage of his life had come to an end, andunpleasant realities must be dealt with, but he would keep ever thememory of this splendid girl in his heart, the memory that she had notbeen weak or permitted him to make a fool of himself or of her.

  And as he walked on out of the Park he felt a new self-reliance anddetermination.

  Meanwhile, Katherine Bush had got into an omnibus and was on the way toVictoria, and once arrived at Laburnum Villa and her attic, shecarefully wrote down on the little book which she kept for jottings,"_Mademoiselle de Maupin_, in a book by Theophile Gautier," while herthoughts ran:

  "He did not say what was the name of the story, but I can read the wholelot this man wrote. I'll go to a French library on Monday."

  Then she sat down in her armchair by the fire and reviewed the entirechain of events.

  She was embarked upon a new current which would help to carry her tosome definite goal--she was out of the backwater. It was not a voyage toCythera, but youth was at the prow, and ambition, not pleasure, at thehelm; and there live philosophers who say these two things bring morelasting good than all the bliss that is to be snatched from the othercombination.--Who knows!--They may be right!

  Matilda was nervous with excitement when after supper she was told ofthe definite settlement of her sister's affairs.

  "So you are really engaged, Kitten!" she exclaimed. "Now, do tell me allabout it. There's a dear--and what was she like, and is it a grand houseand are you going to be properly treated as a real lady?"

  "Yes, I am engaged. I am to go in on Wednesday, 'bag and baggage,' asLady Garribardine said."

  "My! what a vulgar expression for a lady to use, Kitten--are you sureshe's all right?"

  Matilda hated what was not genteel.

  "Oh! yes, Tild--she's all right--and the house is beautiful--and, yes,what you'd call grand--and you may be sure they will treat me exactly inthe way I deserve to be treated. If you aren't respected it's your ownfault--people don't make a mistake as to whom they are with a secondtime, even if they do the first. If anyone gets put upon continually, orgets snubbed, it's her own fault."

  Matilda totally disagreed.

  "There you are quite wrong. Why, look at Gladys! Bob treats her anyhowsometimes of a Sunday, and her as good as gold."

  "Well, she has made him think that he can by not stopping it in thebeginning. It is never a question of goodness as I often tell you aboutthings, it is a question of force. Goodness does not count unless it isso perfect that it is a force, too--like Christ's."

  "Oh, my! What awful things you do say, Katherine!"

  Matilda felt so uncomfortable when her sister spoke of what she thoughtought only to be mentioned in church!

  "No, I merely tell the truth, it is the weaklings who do all the harm inthe world, never the bad or good."

  "Well, what was Lady Garribardine like?" Matilda was tired of abstractspeculations.

  "She was tall and rather stout, and had a golden wig--and blackeyes--and she understood things. She knows how to order her house,because the servants had the same awe for her as the office-boy has forLiv. Her writing-table was awfully untidy, though. I expect she has notmuch method, and it is just personality and temper which causes her tobe obeyed."

  "You won't stand being ordered about ever, Kitten?"

  "It will depend on how much good I feel I am getting out of it. If theplace and people in it are being lessons for me, I shan't mind what shesays--I shall stick it out and try never really to deserve a scolding."

  "Was there anyone else there?" Matilda was still curious.

  "Yes--a man left when I was going in. He had a clever face. I shall likehim, I believe, if he comes there often."

  "You won't go falling in love with any of them gentlemen, Kitten,"Matilda pleaded affectionately.

  She felt that things might develop as they did in the cases of theinnocent actresses and governesses and the villains in her serials.

  "Have I ever been given to falling in love?" Katherine asked with ahumorous flash in her eyes.--"You have not seen me tumble into the armsof Charlie Prodgers or Percy Watson--have you?"

  "No, dearie, but these gentlemen in your new biz might be different andmight not mean so honest by you. I do wish I could hope to see yousettled with Charlie some day. He is such a dear fellow, and veryrising. He'll be head clerk at the estate agent's he is in very soon,and could give you a comfortable home like this is for your own; and noneed to be hanging on for years like Glad and Bob."

  "Can you picture me settled in a comfortable home with Charlie Prodgers,Tild!" Katherine laughed out at the idea, it seemed so comic to her. "Heis as great a snob as Fred, and even more ignorant. I would not let himbutton my boots, much less call himself my husband! I'd as soon be deadas tied to that! At Brixton, too! With the prospect of being the motherof numbers of sandy-haired little Prodgers. What an outlook!"

  Matilda was hurt. They had never spoken in words upon this secret hopeof hers, but she had often hinted at it, and Katherine had been silentand seemingly preoccupied, but not actually scornful, and to have thescheme denounced with derision and the happy picture scoffed at was ablow to her which she could not bear in silence. She felt indignant.

  "Charlie Prodgers is good enough for any young lady. Mabel herselfthinks highly of him. He is one of the few of Fred's gentlemen friendsthat she thinks worthy to be asked into her mother's house--and I wouldhave liked to have seen you married into her set safely before shebecomes our sister-in-law, and can patronise you."

  "Then I am afraid I must disappoint you, dear," Katherine now tried tohide her smile. "I have quite another game to play in life. But whydon't you keep him for Ethel--she is nearly sixteen and will
soon belooking out for a young man--or take him yourself?"

  This was a new idea for Matilda. She had always been too loyal to dreamof turning her eye in the direction of one whom she regarded asexclusively her sister's property.

  She bridled a little--the picture was so glorious--if it only could behers! Charlie Prodgers who scorned to be seen in anything but a frockcoat, unless, of course, he went golfing--Charlie Prodgers who eachSunday attended the church parade in Hyde Park as a matter of course!But would he ever look at her? Proud, haughty fellow! and she not sopretty as Katherine--and not half so nobby as Gladys. But strangerthings than that happened in her serials, and she need not feel that itwas quite hopeless. But how could Kitten willingly relinquish suchtriumph? There must be something of a suffragette in her after all,since no girl in her senses could ask more of fortune!

  The Sunday was spent by Katherine in packing up all her belongings andin selecting the books she meant to take with her, a volume or two ofVoltaire, Bacon's Essays, Kant and Bergson, and a new acquisition, OttoWeininger's "Sex and Character." This latter had interested her deeply.There was a great deal of biting truth in his analysis of women, and itwas probably also true that they did not possess souls; but she totallydisagreed with his ending of the matter that the solution of the problemlay in a voluntary annihilation of the human species through abstinencefrom procreation. She, for her part, thought that it was taking thingsout of the Hand of God, or the Divine Essence, or whatever the greatPrinciple should be called--and her eminently practical mind failed tosee the use of such far-reaching speculations. "The poor man was mad, ofcourse," she said, as she closed the book again before packing it. "ButI will try to watch the feminine traits in myself and crush them. He hastaught me that amount, in any case. And if I have no soul, I have abrain and a will, and so I am going to obtain as much as a woman can getwith those two things. As for the infinite, men are welcome to that, asfar as I am concerned!"

  She looked forward with deep interest to perusing the story with_Mademoiselle de Maupin_ in it. What could it be about? She had hardlythought that Lord Algy had read at all, he never spoke of books--but itwas perhaps not surprising; they had been always too occupied in moreagreeable converse. How good it was to remember all that, even thoughnever in her life she should have such foolish sweetness again!

  She had not the slightest sentiment about "leaving home"; she would havefound such a thing quite ridiculous. On the contrary, a sense ofexaltation filled her. She was going forever from this cramped, smallattic and the uncongenial environment of the house. And she must holdherself in stern command and never waste an opportunity to improveherself in manner and mind. Of course, she might be liable to make a fewmistakes at first, and the work might be hard, but if will was strongand emotions were checked, the road to success and development ofher personality could not be a long one. And when she had gainedfreedom--how splendidly would she use it! There should be no falsevalues for her!

  Her new dress, the one in the style of Lady Beatrice Strobridge, wouldbe home by the Tuesday night, and she had got a "dressy" blouse fromOxford Street, in case she should ever have to appear in the evenings.She would do very well, she felt.

  The family, with the exception of Matilda, were not sorry that she wasdeparting. The father had left Laburnum Villa and a certain sum to keepit up for the benefit of the whole bunch of them; and when Mr. FrederickBush would move into a house of his own with the refined Mabel Cawber,Gladys and Bert and Ethel looked forward to an uninterrupted time ofjollity, unclouded by Katherine's aloofness and contempt.

  Matilda alone grieved in secret. She thought Katherine was superior tothem all in spite of her reserve, and the last evening, while she satwith her by the attic fire, she told her so.

  "No, I am not, Tild--I am not superior. I am just different--all ouraims are as wide apart as the poles. Glad and Ethel and the boys neverwant to learn anything--they resent the thought that there could beanything that they do not know. Their whole attitude is resentfultowards any knowledge. They like to browse on deceiving themselves overevery question and aspect of life. So they will all just stay where theyare. Fred, an auctioneer, henpecked by Mabel; Bert, a clerk. Poor Glad,the downtrodden drudge of Bob Hartley, and Ethel probably something ofthe same. You, dear old Tild, will be a sentimental old maid lookingafter the others' children--because you are entirely a 'motherwoman'--unless you take Charlie Prodgers, as I said the other day, andhave heaps of little Prodgers! Oh! it is all just respectable,comfortable squalor--and words won't express how glad I am to get out ofit!"

  Matilda was quite incensed.

  "I'd rather be a lady, however poor, in my own circle, and treated assuch there, than a servant in a grand house as you're going to be,Kitten. I'd let them see I'd be above taking their orders!"

  She hoped this taunt would tell, but Katherine only smiled.

  "Poor, dear old Tild," she said. "You do not know, perhaps, that it is awise man who understands how to obey those placed over him, and to exactthe same obedience from those beneath. When I have learned my lessonsand have obtained a place of command, then I shall not only enforceobedience, but I shall remove from my path anyone who crosses my will."

  "Oh, my!" gasped Matilda.

  "Do you suppose I argued with Liv and Dev and showed them that I wouldnot take their orders? No, of course not; they valued me and raised mysalary because I did what I was told to do. They were paying me moneyand were in a position to command. No one forced me to take their money;I went there of my own free will, and was to do specified things for aspecified remuneration. I did them to the best of my ability, and so Iam going on to something better. Lady Garribardine is paying me ninetypounds a year with a rise; and I am to be hers to command for certainthings. When I have learned all that that situation can teach me, Ishall get a larger and higher position, and so on until I reach my goal,when I shall rule--do not fear, Tild. _I shall rule._"

  "I daresay you will," Matilda admitted, awed.

  Katherine's face had a strange, compelling force when she spoke thus.

  "But we aren't all the same, Kitten. Glad, for instance, has more pride;look how she left Brown and Melbury's, where she was getting more thanat Ermantine's, because she would not take orders from the new managerthey put over her department."

  "That sort of pride was entirely worthy of Gladys' intelligence, and ithad landed her with a less salary, no one's added respect, and not muchto look forward to in the future." And then, with a burst of feeling,"Oh! Tild, if I only could make laws, I would enforce education to suchan extent that there could not be left any fools like Gladys!"

  Then she said good-night to Matilda and gently pushed her from the room,where she looked as though she meant to stay for another half-hour, andreturning to her armchair, she began to read that book of TheophileGautier's which she had bought on the Monday morning, and discoveredthat its title was simply "Mademoiselle de Maupin."