Part 24 (1/2)
”No one has a better right to pay his attentions to you, for he has asked and received my permission to do so.”
Kate drew herself upright and gazed at her father with eyes full of horror.
”You gave him permission to pay attention to me!” she exclaimed, slowly, as though scarcely comprehending his meaning; then, springing to her feet and drawing herself to her full height, she demanded,--
”Do you mean, papa, that you intend me to marry him?”
For an instant Mr. Underwood felt ill at ease; Kate's face was white and her eyes had the look of a creature brought to bay, that sees no escape from the death confronting it, for even in that brief time Kate, knowing her father's indomitable will, realized with a sense of despair the hopelessness of her situation.
”I suppose your marriage will be the outcome,--at least, I hope so,”
her father replied, quickly recovering his composure, ”for I certainly know of no one to whom I would so willingly intrust your future happiness. Listen to me, Kate: have I not always planned and worked for your best interests?”
”You always have, papa.”
”Have I not always chosen what was for your good and for your happiness?”
Kate gave a silent a.s.sent.
”Very well; then I think you can trust to my judgment in this case.”
”But, papa,” she protested, ”this is different. I never can love that man; I abhor him--loathe him! Do you think there can be any happiness or good in a marriage without love? Would you and mamma have been happy together if you had not loved each other?”
No sooner had she spoken the words than she regretted them as she noted the look of pain that crossed her father's face. In his silent, undemonstrative way he had idolized his wife, and it was seldom that he would allow any allusion to her in his presence.
”I don't know why you should call up the past,” he said, after a pause, ”but since you have I will tell you that your mother when a girl like yourself objected to our marriage; she thought that we were unsuited to each other and that we could never live happily together. She listened, however, to the advice of those older and wiser than she, and you know the result.” The strong man's voice trembled slightly. ”I think our married life was a happy one. It was for me, I know; I hope it was for her.”
A long silence followed. To Kate there came the memory of the frail, young mother lying, day after day, upon her couch in the solitude of her sick-room, often weeping silently, while she, a mere child, knelt sadly and wistfully beside her, as silently wiping the tear-drops as they fell and wondering at their cause. She understood now, but not for worlds would she have spoken one word to pain her father's heart.
At last Mr. Underwood said, rising as though to end the interview, ”I think I can depend upon you now, Kate, to carry out my wishes in this matter.”
Kate rose proudly. ”I have never disobeyed you, papa; I will treat Mr.
Walcott courteously; but even though you force me to marry him I will never, never love him, and I shall tell him so.”
Her father smiled. ”Mr. Walcott, I think, has too much good sense to attach much weight to any girlish whims; that will pa.s.s, you will think differently by and by.”
As she stopped for her usual good-night kiss she threw her arms about her father's neck, and, looking appealingly into his face, said,--
”Papa, it need not be very soon, need it? You are not in a hurry to be rid of your little girl?”
”Don't talk foolishly, child,” he answered, hastily; ”you know I've no wish to be rid of you, but I do want to see you settled in a home of your own--equal to the best, and, as I said a while ago, and told Mr.
Darrell in talking the matter over with him, I know of no one in whose hands I would so willingly place you and your happiness as Mr.
Walcott's. As for the date and other matters of that sort,” he added, playfully pinching her cheeks, ”I suppose those will all be mutually arranged between the gentleman and yourself.”
Kate had started back slightly. ”You have talked this over with Mr.
Darrell?” she exclaimed.