A Crooked Path Part 47

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.

"Perhaps," she added, "the counter-irritation was good for me, for I feel more braced up. And of all your many benefits, dear Miss Liddell, nothing has done me so much good as the books you sent me, except the sight of yourself. Do not think I am exaggerating, but I am a mere machine, resigned to work because I must not die, save when I see you and speak to you; then I feel I can live--that I have something to live for, to show I am not unworthy of your trust in me. Perhaps time will heal even such wounds as mine. Is it not terrible to try and live without hope?"

"But you must hope, Rachel. You are not alone. I feel truly, deeply interested in you; believe me, I will always be your friend. You are looking better, but I want to see your eyes less hollow and your mouth less sad. We are both young, and life has many lights and shades for us both, so far as we can antic.i.p.ate."

A long and confidential conversation ensued, in the course of which Katherine quite forgot there was any difference of position between herself and the humble dressmaker whom her bounty of purse and heart had restored.

CHAPTER XVIII.

"MRS. NEEDHAM."

When Katherine returned that afternoon she found Miss Payne was not alone. On the sofa opposite to her sat a lady--a large, well-dressed lady--with bright black eager eyes, and a high color. She held open on her lap a neat black leather bag, from which she had taken some papers, and was speaking quickly, in loud dictatorial tones, when Katherine came in.

"Here is Miss Liddell," said Miss Payne.

"Ah! I am very glad," cried the large lady, starting up and letting the bag fall, much of its contents scattering right and left.

"Mrs. Needham, Miss Liddell," said Miss Payne, with the sort of rigid accent which Katherine knew expressed disapprobation.

"Oh, thank you--don't trouble!" exclaimed Mrs. Needham, as Katherine politely bent down to collect the letters, note-book, memorandum, etc.

"So sorry! I am too careless in small matters. Now, my dear Miss Liddell, I must explain myself. Mr. Payne and I are deeply interested in the success of a bazar which I am trying to organize, and he suggested that I should see you and make our objects thoroughly clear."

With much fluency and distinctness she proceeded to describe the origin and progress of the work she advocated, showing the necessity for a new wing to the "Children's Refuge," and entreating Katherine's a.s.sistance at the bazar.

This Katherine gently but firmly declined. "I shall be most happy to send you a check, but more I cannot undertake," she said.

"Well, that is very good of you; and in any case I am very pleased to have made your acquaintance. Mr. Payne has told me how ready you are to help in all charitable undertakings. Now in an ordinary way I don't do much in this line; my energies have been directed to another channel. I am not what is generally called a religious woman; I am too broad in my views to please the orthodox; but, at the same time, religion is in our present stage essential."

"I am sure religion is much obliged to you," observed Miss Payne. "How do you and my brother get on?"

"Remarkably well. _I_ think him rather a fanatic; he thinks me a pagan.

But we both have common-sense enough to see that each honestly wishes to help suffering humanity, and on that broad platform we meet. Mr. Payne tells me you don't know much of London, Miss Liddell. I can help you to see some of its more interesting sides. I shall be most happy, though I am a very busy woman. I am a journalist, and my time is not my own."

"Indeed?" cried Katherine. "You mean you write for newspapers?"

"Yes; that is, I get what crumbs fall from the press_men's_ table. They get the best work and the best pay; but I can work as well as most of them, and sometimes mine goes in in place of what some idle, pleasure-loving scamp has neglected. Let me see"--pulling out her watch--"five minutes to four. I must not stay. I have to look in at Mrs.

Rayner's studio; she has a reception, and will want a mention of it.

Then there are Sir Charles Goodman's training schools for deaf-mutes and the new Art Photography Company's rooms to run through before I go to the House of Commons to do my 'Bird's-eye View' letter for the Australian mail to-morrow."

"My dear Mrs. Needham, you take my breath away!" exclaimed Katherine. "I am sure you could show me more of London--I mean what I should like to see--than any one else."

"Very well. Let me know when you come back to town, and you shall hear a debate if you like. I am not a society woman, but I have the _entree_ to most places. Now good-morning--good-morning. You see your agreeable conversation has made me forget the time." And shaking hands cordially, she hastened away.

"_Our_ agreeable conversation," repeated Miss Payne, with a somewhat cynical accent. "I wonder how many words you and I uttered! Why she makes me stupid. Really Gilbert ought not to inflict such a tornado on us."

"I like her," said Katherine; "there is something kind and true about her. I should like to see some of the places she goes to and the work she does. She seems happy enough, too. I must not forget to write to her and send that check I promised."

"Hem! If you give right and left you'll not have much left for yourself," growled Miss Payne. Katherine laughed.

"Oh, by-the-way," resumed her chaperon, "I forgot to tell you that Colonel Ormonde arrived, shortly after you went out, with a large basket of flowers. He was vexed at missing you. He came up about some business, and wanted to take you to see some one. However, he could not come back.

I can't say that I think he is well mannered. He was quite rough and brusque, and asked with such an ill-bred sneer if you were off on any private business with my brother."

"I can't help thinking that he was annoyed because I appointed Mr. Payne co-trustee with Mr. Newton to my deed of gift," said Katherine, thoughtfully. "But I know I could not have chosen a better man."

"Well, I believe so," returned his sister, graciously. "He is coming to dinner, so you can give him your check."

It was a great day for Cis and Charlie when they arrived in London to stay with "auntie," who was at the station to receive and convey them to Wilton Street.

Charlie still looked pale and thin enough to warrant a general treatment of cuddling and coddling calculated to satisfy any affectionate young woman's heart. They were to sleep at Miss Payne's residence, in order to be rested and fresh for their journey to the sea-side next day.

Miss Payne herself was unusually amiable, for she had let her house satisfactorily for the greater part of the season, and this as Katherine paid for the Sandbourne villa, was clear gain.

When the boys and their auntie drove up to Miss Payne's abode she was a good deal annoyed to find De Burgh at the door in the act of leaving a card. He hastened to hand her out of the carriage, exclaiming:

"This is the first bit of luck I have had for weeks. You always manage to be out when I call. Come along, my boys. What lucky little fellows you are to come to town for the season!"

"Ah, but we are not going to stay in town. We are going to the sea-side to bathe, and to sail in boats, and--"

"Run in, Charlie, like a good boy," interrupted Katherine. "Your tea will be quite ready."

"I suppose you will think me horribly intrusive if I ask you to let me come in?" said De Burgh. There was something unusually earnest in his tone.

"Oh, not at all," returned Katherine, politely, though she would have much preferred bidding him good-morning. "Here, Sarah, pray take the boys to their room and get their things off. I am sure they want their tea."

Miss Payne's sedate elderly house-maid looked quite elated as she took Charlie's hand and, preceded by Cecil, led him upstairs.

"Are you really 'out' when I come?" asked De Burgh when they reached the drawing-room.

Katherine took off her hat and pushed her hair off her brow as she seated herself in a low chair.

"Yes, I think so. I do not usually deny myself to any visitor." She looked up, half amused, half interested, by the almost imploring expression of his usually hard face.