Cursed by a Fortune Part 52

But the sensation of dread was momentary, and the warm flush of life came back to her cheeks as she said softly:

"What is there to fear?" and then found herself repeating:

"'There is no Death! What seems so is transition; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian Whose portal we call Death.'

"Oh, father--father!" she moaned softly; "but I am so lonely without you;" and she sank into a chair, to weep bitterly.

The tears brought relief and firmness, and drying her eyes, she went slowly from room to room, thinking of him who had once trod those boards--a sad and solitary man.

Somehow her thoughts brought her back to Garstang, who seemed so n.o.ble and chivalrous in his conduct to her, and how that he, too, was a sad and solitary man, for she had heard in the past that his marriage had proved unhappy.

A few minutes later, when she let the curtain drop behind her, and stood once more on the staircase, a change had come over her, and in spite of the slight redness and moisture remaining in her eyes, she looked brighter and more at rest, till she caught a glimpse of a strangely wild pair of staring eyes gazing at her from one of the dark doorways in horror and wonder, till their owner grasped the fact that she was observed, and fled.

"Poor Becky!" thought Kate, as she smiled sadly? "I must try and make friends with her now."

CHAPTER THIRTY.

The days pa.s.sed calmly enough with Kate Wilton, and no more was said on either side about communicating with anyone. Garstang was there at breakfast, and left till dinner time, when he returned punctually.

Kate read and worked, and waited for him to speak, striving the while by her manner to let her guardian see that she was trying to show her grat.i.tude to him for all that he had done. And so a fortnight glided by, and then, unable to bear it longer, she determined to question him.

That evening Garstang came in looking weary and careworn. There was evidently some trouble on the way, and as she rose to meet him she felt that she must not speak that night, for her new guardian had cares enough of his own to deal with.

But he began at once as he took her hands, smiling gravely as he looked in her eyes.

"Well, my poor little prisoner," he said, half-banteringly, "aren't you utterly worn out, and longing, little bird, to begin beating your breast against the bars of your cage?"

"No," she said, gently; "I am getting used to it now."

"Brave little bird!" he said, raising both her hands to his lips and kissing them, before letting them fall; "then I shall come back some evening and hear you warbling once again. I have not heard you sing since the last evening I spent in Bedford Square long months ago."

He saw her countenance change, and he went on hastily:

"By the way, has Sarah Plant bought everything for you that you require?"

"Oh, yes," she said; "far more."

"That's right. I am so ignorant about such matters. Pray do not hesitate to give her orders. Do you know," he continued, as he sat down and began to warm his hands, gazing the while with wrinkled brow at the fire, "I have been doing something to-day in fear and trembling."

"Indeed?" she said, anxiously.

"Yes," he said, thoughtfully, as he took up the poker and began to softly tap pieces of unburned coal into glowing holes. "My conscience has been smiting me horribly about you, my child. I come back after fidgeting all day about your being so lonely and dull, with nothing but those serious books about you--by the way, did they send in that parcel from the library?"

"Yes. Thank you for being so thoughtful about me, Mr Garstang."

"Oh, nonsense! But I think, my child, we could get rid of that formal Mr Garstang. Do you think you could call me guardian, little maid?"

"Yes, guardian," she said, smiling at him, as he turned to look at her anxiously.

"Hah! Come, that's better," he cried; and he set down the poker and rubbed his hands softly, as he gazed once more thoughtfully at the fire.

"That sounds more as if you felt at home, and I shall dare to tell you what I have done. You see, I have been obliged to beg of you not to go out for a bit without me, and I have not liked to propose taking you of an evening to any place of entertainment--not a theatre, of course yet awhile, but a concert, say."

"Oh no, Mr Garstang!" she said, hastily, with the tears coming to her eyes.

He coughed, and looked at her in a perplexed way.

"Oh no, guardian," she said, smiling sadly.

"Hah! that's better. Of course not; of course not. Forgive me for even referring to it. But er--you will not feel hurt at what I have done?"

She looked at him anxiously.

"Yes," he said, speaking as if he had been suddenly damped. "I ought not to have done it yet. It will seem as if I were making it appear that you will have to stop some time."

"What have you done?" asked Kate, gravely.

"Well, my child, I know how musical you used to be, and as I was pa.s.sing the maker's to-day the thought struck me that you would like a piano.

'It would make the place less dull for her,' I said, and--don't be hurt, my dear--I--I told him to send a good one in."

"Mr Garstang!--guardian!" she said, starting up, with the tears now beginning to fall.

"There, there, fought to have known better," he cried, catching up the poker, and beginning to use it hurriedly. "Men are so stupid. Don't take any notice, my dear. I'll counter-order it."

"No, no," she said gently, as she advanced to him and held out her hand "I am not hurt; I am pleased and grateful."

"You are--really?" he cried, letting the poker drop, and catching her hand in his.

"Of course I am," she said, simply. "How could I be otherwise? Don't think me so thoughtless, and that I do not feel deeply all your kindness."

"Kindness, nonsense!" he said, dropping her hand again, and turning away. "But will it help to make the time pa.s.s better?"

"Yes, I shall be very glad to have it."

"And, er--you'll sing and play to me sometimes when I come back here?"

"Yes," she said, smiling through her tears; "and I would to-night, now that you have come back tired and careworn, if it were here."

"Tired and careworn? Who is?"

"You are. Do you think I could not see?"

He looked at her with his eyes full of admiration, and then turned to the fire again.

"I am most grateful, guardian," she said. "But shall I have to be a prisoner long?"

"Hah!" he said with a sigh, and as if not hearing her question, "you are right, my child. I have had a very, very worrying day."