The Career of Katherine Bush. Glyn Elinor

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СКАЧАТЬ for anything in the world, it would spoil everything, destroy a memory that has not got any flaw in it. – Listen to me, Algy – I went with you because I wanted to – I wanted to understand life, and find out what is worth while, and what men are like. I am only at the beginning of existence and I intend to learn most of its meaning before I die. I thought that whatever cold, tiresome path I might have to follow afterwards, to carry out my scheme of things, I would at least have some good hours to remember with you, so I went deliberately – but I never meant to do it again. Let's both be grateful for what we have had and part friends."

      "I simply can't," protested Lord Algy, growing more and more full of emotion, as he felt the attainment of his desires receding from him. "I call it awfully cold-blooded of you, Katherine, and I can't and won't consent to it. I want you – I want you now – to-night," and he stretched out his arms. "I am sick with longing for you – I mean it, darling. I have been away with other girls often before, Jack Kilcourcy and I stayed down the river with Laure de Laine and Mary Green this June. Laure was my friend, and she simply wasn't a patch on you, pet, in any way, and I didn't care a straw when it was over, although they are such celebrities, and it did make Berty Aberhams so mad, and was such a score off the bounder. I have never felt anything like I feel for you, darling – I want you to be my wife."

      As he spoke, something withered a little in Katherine Bush; his unconscious placing of the affair galled her, although she knew that it was perfectly just; she had gone with him under no other pretence than had gone those ladies of the Frivolity Theatre. She analysed his simple directness, and appreciated the triumph conveyed to her in the final expression of his feelings, but it made her task rather easier. She saw so plainly what a renewal of their relations would mean. She looked and looked at him, seated dejectedly there beside her, and then she spoke, and her voice was full of quiet determination and very deep.

      "You must be a man, Algy, dear, and go on and make something of your life, as I mean to do. You must be a great soldier. You come of such a grand old family, you ought to remember what all your ancestors have done, and try to be as fine as they were – It's so paltry to drift – You can remember me if you want to – as someone who wasn't weak, even though I am only a common girl, and much beneath you in class. If I was of your class I should now be tempted to marry you, and then I expect with my sort of nature I'd just shove you on into doing something great. But I couldn't as it is, all my time would be taken up with trying to educate myself to keep my own head above water, and trying to suppress my humiliation at the contempt of your friends. You are only a younger son, and they would never forgive you, and we would just lead a hole and corner sort of existence in wretched poverty, and grow to have quarrels and not love at all."

      He was going to interrupt her but she put her grey gloved hand across his lips. "No, dear, don't say anything – I want to go away from you with the memory that you have asked me to be your wife – I cannot be that for both our sakes, and it would cut me to the heart to hear you say words, now that you know this, which would mean that you want me, failing that, to go on with the other relation." – She paused, for a second, and leaning forward, looked straight into his face – "Algy, I want to remember you as a really perfect gentleman."

      She had gained her point with this last appeal. She saw that in an instant; he straightened himself and raised his handsome head, while the pride of race looked forth from his eyes for a moment, and then was quenched by the mist of tears.

      "You are a splendid girl, Katherine," he said in a choking voice, "a far greater lady than the rotters I have to dance with at balls and see as my sisters' friends. You – by Jove! you have taught me to respect women. I should be honoured if you would marry me, and my family ought to be jolly glad to get such a good sort among them!"

      "Thank you, Algy!" her voice now trembled, too. "Then you understand, dear, and I want you to do just as well as you can in Egypt – and, and – Algy, do try not to spend so much money, and when they have paid up for you, don't go and get back into any moneylender's hands. They are not all so honest as Liv and Dev. And now I want to say good-bye! I don't want to be silly and – cry – "

      "Oh! it's too cruel!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands. "Katherine, you are like – only I think you mean to be kinder than she was —Mademoiselle de Maupin!"

      She stiffened, and her eyes, which were growing very misty, became hard and bright. She thought he was referring to another lady of the half-world – of Paris, perhaps, this time. He saw that she had misunderstood him, and he added quickly:

      "Darling, she is in a book – by a fellow called Théophile Gautier – she was a wonder and so are you – I've always thought you were like her, but – Oh! why do we talk such bosh about books in our few moments, I want to tell you that I love you. Oh! Katherine, if you knew how much!"

      The hardness all melted from the young woman's grey-green eyes and was replaced by a divine sweetness.

      "Algy," she whispered, "it is good to hear that, and you know that I love you, too, and now good-bye, my dear – I can't bear any more."

      She rose quickly and drew her hand away. She passionately longed for him to take her in his arms.

      He got up also, he was extremely pale, and more than a suspicion of mist hung upon his eyelashes. As a young, splendid lover, he could not have looked more desirable, but Katherine Bush never lost her head.

      "Good-bye, Algy, and God bless you, dear."

      Two people were approaching or he certainly would have kissed her – as it was they only wrung each other's hands and Katherine Bush turned and walked into the gathering twilight.

      He watched her until she had disappeared and then sat down again. He felt quite wretched. She seemed to him to be a wonderful character.

      "What an impotent wretch I am beside her," he said to himself. "But I should never be able to make the family see it. My mother would rather I married Elaine Percival with her five thousand a year – " then he laughed contemptuously – "Elaine Percival!"

      For the first time in his life he began to reason about things. Katherine Bush was of course perfectly right. Marriage would have been madness, as he had always known before he became too much in love to think; and he knew he had been lately only entirely influenced by selfish desire, and had never so much as faced what the consequences would be either to himself or to her. He had been quite ready to make a hash of both their lives just because he wanted her so badly for the moment. What an incredible fool – and she, this fine girl, had pulled them both on to firm land. He was not of the type who could contemplate asking a woman to wait for him while he worked to obtain a home for her; such an idea, of course, never entered his head. He had no romantic illusions of this sort, and once having realised the hopelessness of the case he had stoicism enough to accept it. But the things she had said affected him deeply. He would try not to drift. – He would pull himself together and do his best to become a fine soldier. They should not say he had grumbled over going to Egypt. Oh! if there could only be a war, that he might go out and fight! But wars would never happen again at this time of the world's day!

      The present pleasant, easy stage of his life had come to an end, and unpleasant realities must be dealt with, but he would keep ever the memory of this splendid girl in his heart, the memory that she had not been weak or permitted him to make a fool of himself or of her.

      And as he walked on out of the Park he felt a new self-reliance and determination.

      Meanwhile, Katherine Bush had got into an omnibus and was on the way to Victoria, and once arrived at Laburnum Villa and her attic, she carefully wrote down on the little book which she kept for jottings, "Mademoiselle de Maupin, in a book by Théophile Gautier," while her thoughts ran:

      "He did not say what was the name of the story, but I can read the whole lot this man wrote. СКАЧАТЬ