Part 50 (1/2)
”No; not yet,” said Kate, wearily; ”and I have tried very hard.”
”Then don't try, my child,” he said, with a smile, ”and then perhaps the idea will come. I ought to say, though,” he added, playfully, ”do try hard, so as not to succeed, for I do not want you to go. It is as if a change had come over my life, and like the man in one of the old plays, I had discovered a long-lost child.”
”Pray don't treat it lightly, Mr Garstang,” said Kate. ”All this troubles me terribly. I feel so helpless.”
”Believe me that if I talk lightly, I think very, very seriously of your position,” said Garstang, quickly. ”I know how painful it must be for you to neglect your friends, those to whom you would write, but really I am obliged to advocate reticence for the present. I will have your letters posted if you desire me to, but I am bound to show you the consequences which must follow.”
Kate sighed, and looked more and more troubled.
”To put it more plainly,” continued Garstang, ”my position is that I have an extensive practice, with many clients to see, and consequently I must be a great deal away. Now suppose one morning, when I am out, James Wilton and his son present themselves. What will you do?”
Kate s.h.i.+vered, and gazed at him helplessly.
”I shall not feel best pleased to come back home to dinner, and find you gone.”
”My position is terrible,” said Kate. ”I almost wish I were penniless.”
”Come, come, not so terrible; it is only that of a prisoner who has her cell door barred inside, so that she can open it when she pleases. May I try and advise you a little?”
”Yes, pray, pray do, Mr Garstang.”
”Well, my advice is this--even if it causes your poor old nurse great anxiety. She will be content later on, when she learns that it was for your benefit. My advice is for you to try and settle down here for a while, so as to see how matters shape themselves, or till you have decided where it would be better for you to go.”
She looked at him wistfully.
”Could I not take apartments somewhere, and have Eliza up to keep house for me?”
”Well--yes,” he said, thoughtfully. ”It would be risky, for every movement of your old servant will be jealously watched just now. It would be better later on. What do you think?”
”That I do not wish to seem ungrateful for your kindness, neither do I feel justified in putting you to great trouble and expense.”
”Pooh, pooh,” he said, merrily, ”I am not so poor that I can not afford myself a few pleasures. But proper pride is a fine thing. There, you shall be independent, and pay me back everything when you come of age.”
He glanced at his watch, for breakfast had been over some time, and they had sat talking.
”I am keeping you, Mr Garstang,” she said.
”Well, I like to be kept, but I have several appointments to-day. Have a good quiet think while I am gone, and we will talk it over again to-night.”
”No,” said Kate, quietly, ”you will be tired then. I will take your advice, Mr Garstang.”
”Yes?” he said, raising his eyebrows a little.
”I will stay here for a time, where, as you say, I can be at rest and safe from intrusion. We will see what time brings forth.”
”Spoken like a thoughtful, wise little woman,” said Garstang, without the slightest display of elation. ”By the way, you find plenty of books to read?”
”Oh, yes, and I have been studying the old china.”
”A very interesting subject; but music--you are fond of music. We must see about that.”
He nodded and smiled, and then she saw that he became very calm and thoughtful, as if immersed in his business affairs.