A Crooked Path Part 58

Beyond sending a newspaper which recorded his victory in the Barton Towers steeple-chase De Burgh made no sign, and life ran smoothly in its ordinary grooves at Sandbourne.

Rachel Trant revived marvellously. The change of scene, the fresh salt-air, above all the society of Katherine, who frequently visited and walked with her, all combined to give her new life--even emboldening her to look at the future. Her manner, always grave and respectful, won reluctant approval from Miss Payne. And the boys were always pleased to run to the boatman's cottage with flowers or fruit, and talk to, or rather question, their new friend. Rachel seemed always glad to see them, though she evidently shrank from returning their visits. She was never quite herself, or off guard, except when alone with Katherine.

Then she spoke out of her heart, and uttered thoughts and opinions which often surprised Katherine, and set her thinking more seriously than she had ever done before. Finally, hearing from her good old landlady that some of her customers had returned to town and were inquiring for her, Rachel said it was time her holiday came to an end.

"I feel now that I can bear to live and try to be independent. Indeed my life is yours; you have given it back to me, and I will yet prove to you that I am not unworthy of your wonderful generosity," she said, the morning of the day she was to start for London, as she sat with Katherine among the rocks at the point. "The idea of an establishment such as Mr. Payne suggests is excellent. It ought to be your property, and good property--I need only be your steward--while it may be of great use to others."

"I feel quite impatient to carry out the project, and we will set about it as soon as I return to town," returned Katherine.

"Will you write to me sometimes?" asked Rachel, humbly. "I feel as if I dare not let you go: all of hope or promise that can come into my wrecked life centres in you. While you are my friend I can face the world."

"Yes, Rachel, write to me as often as you like, and I will answer your letters. Trust me: I will always be your true friend."

CHAPTER XXII.

"WARP AND WOOF."

When the rough weather of a stormy autumn obliged Katherine to keep in-doors she began to feel the monotony of existence by the sad sea waves, and to wish for the sociability of London. The end of October, then, saw Miss Payne and party re-established in Wilton Street, having left Cecil at school. With Charlie, Katherine could not part just yet.

She intended to keep him till after Christmas, when he was to go to school with his brother.

Though town was empty as regarded "society," there was plenty of life and movement in the streets, and Katherine, always thankful for occupation which drew her thoughts away from her profound regret for the barrier which existed between Errington and herself, was glad to be back in the great capital. She threw herself into the scheme of establis.h.i.+ng Rachel Trant as a "court dressmaker" most heartily, and Bertie Payne spared time from his multifarious avocations to give important a.s.sistance. Rachel herself, too, proved to be a wise counsellor, her previous training having given her some experience in business.

Katherine therefore found interesting employment in looking for a small house suited to the undertaking.

Mr. Newton was writing busily in his private room one foggy afternoon when he was informed that Miss Liddell wished to speak to him.

"Show her in at once," he said, cheerfully, as if pleased, and he rose to receive her. "Glad to see you, Miss Liddell, looking all the better for your sojourn by the sea-side. Why, it must be nearly six months since I saw you."

"Yes, quite six months, Mr. Newton. I suppose you have been refres.h.i.+ng yourself too, after the fatigues of the season. You must try Sandbourne next year. It is a very nice little place."

"Sandbourne? I don't think I know it. But now what do you want, my dear young lady? I don't suppose you come here merely for pleasure."

"I a.s.sure you it always gives me great pleasure," said Katherine, with a sweet, sunny smile. "You have always been my very good friend."

"Well, a sincere one, at all events," returned the dry old lawyer, whose aridity was not proof against the charm of his young client.

"I must not waste your time," she resumed, drawing her chair a little nearer the table behind which he was ensconced. "I want to buy a house which I have seen, and I want you to attend to all details connected with it."

"Oh--ah! Well, a good house would not be a bad investment; it would be very convenient to have a residence in London."

"It is not for myself; it is a speculation."

"A speculation? What put that into your head?"

Whereupon Katherine told him her story.

"I think it rather a mad undertaking," was Mr. Newton's verdict. "These projects seldom succeed. I don't care for clever interesting young women who have no one belonging to them and cannot corroborate their stories.

How do you know she was not dismissed from Blackie & Co.'s for theft?"

Katherine laughed. "I certainly do not know," she said, "but I _feel_ it is quite as impossible for her to steal as it is for myself."

"Feel!--feel!" (impatiently). "Just so: impostors thrive on the good feelings of--of the simple."

"You were going to say fools," said Katherine. "Don't let us waste time, my dear Mr. Newton," she went on, with good-humored decision. "We shall never agree on such a topic; and I am going to buy this house, or another of the same kind if this proves not to be desirable; and I should be very sorry to employ any one but you to arrange the purchase."

"Oh, you know your own mind, and how to threaten--eh, Miss Liddell?" he returned, with a smile. "I must know more about the tenement before I can consent to act for you."

"It is an ordinary three-storied house, with a couple of rooms built out at the back, in a small street where there are a few shops; but it is near Westbourne Terrace, and therefore in a region of good customers.

The late owner has been succeeded by a son, who seems very anxious to get rid of it. The price asked is seven hundred and fifty pounds, and I believe the taxes are under ten pounds. Do, dear Mr. Newton, look into the matter, and get it settled as soon as possible, and on the best terms you can."

"Hum! and the furniture? Do you undertake that too?"

"Of course. Don't you see, I can do it all out of the money I have not been able to use. There is quite three thousand pounds on deposit in the bank. You know you wrote to me only a month ago about letting the money lie idle. I shall employ it now, for my _protegee_, Miss Trant, will be my only manager. I will pay her wages, and whatever profit after comes to me."

"A very unknown quant.i.ty," said the lawyer, drily. "Still, the house can't run away, and I suppose will aways let for fifty or sixty pounds a year."

"Fifty, I think."

"Then I will look into the matter. Is it in habitable repair?"

"It seems so. Do your best to have the purchase completed as soon as possible, dear Mr. Newton. I want to start my modiste in good time to catch the home-coming people."

"Believe me, it is an unwise project," said Newton, thoughtfully.

"I know you think so, and you are right to counsel me according to your conscience; but as I am quite determined, you must not let me go to a stranger for help."

"Very well; give me the address."

"Seven Malden Street, Paddington. Bell & Co., house agents, in Harrow Road, have it on their books."

"Good! I'll get a surveyor to see to sanitary arrangements, etc. Now that, as usual, you have conquered again and again, tell me something of yourself. Are you tired of the little nephews yet?"

"No, indeed. I have been happier with them than I dared hope to be when I was left alone nearly a year ago, yet"--Her voice faltered and her soft dark eyes filled.

"Yes, yes," hastily, with a man's dread of tears; "you couldn't get over that all at once. But you know it is a very Quixotic business taking those boys; and Mrs. Ormonde is not the woman to relieve you should any difficulty arise."

"But when boys are well provided for there never can be a difficulty.

Ah, Mr. Newton, what a wonderful magician money is! What would become of me without it? It is almost worth risking anything to get it."

"Or, apparently, to get rid of it," remarked Mr. Newton. "By-the-way, that was a tremendous smash of Errington's. Did you hear anything about him?"

"Yes," rather faintly.

"The reason I mention him is that, curiously enough, _he_ was the man your uncle left everything to in that will he very fortunately destroyed. Of course I should only mention it to you: though now all is pa.s.sed and gone, it is of no importance. He has behaved very well. I am told he has turned to literature. It's a pity he did not follow his profession; but it would be rather late in the day for that. I think you must find these rooms rather stuffy and warm after the sea-breezes, for you are looking pale and f.a.gged again."

"I feel a headache coming on," said Katherine, pulling herself together.

"I hope you will pay me a visit someday. I should like to show you my dear little Charlie. He has a great look of my mother, especially his eyes; they are _just_ like hers."