The Career of Katherine Bush Part 29

"Very well."

"I want to hear so many things about you, child--tell me what made you come to my aunt's?--I somehow cannot ever feel that you should be in any dependent position."

"I came to educate myself--I do not mean to be dependent always--What do you do in the Foreign Office?"

He gave her a brief sketch of his days.

"Well, then," she said, "you have to do what you are told to also--nothing matters as long as the spirit is not dependent. You will be a Chief some day, I suppose?"

"Perhaps--and are you learning here?"

"Yes--and you could teach me if you liked."

"I should quite adore it--what wages should I have?"

"None."

"Then that means, by the rules of all games, that I should be working for--love----"

She shrugged her shoulders and put in another piece of paper in the typing machine. She had no intention of talking about--love----

"You are the queerest creature--you make me feel--I do not know what--Well, if you won't discuss wages--tell me what I am to teach you?"

"Literature--Do you remember a day when I came in and had coffee in the dining-room?--It was before you knew I existed--You and Her Ladys.h.i.+p talked of the things then which I would like you to talk to me about."

"Yes, was it not strange?--I must have been blind all those weeks."

The sphinxlike smile hovered round Katherine's mouth; it was enigmatic and horribly tantalizing. Gerard Strobridge felt a rush of wild emotion again; the temptation to seize her in his arms and pa.s.sionately kiss those mocking lips almost overcame him. It is quite doubtful what might have eventuated, if at that moment he had not caught sight of old Colonel Hawthorne in the rose garden. He had come out through the same little door which Katherine used, the pa.s.sage from which, on the ground floor, led to the smoking-room. He waved his hand and beckoned to Gerard.

It broke the spell, and drove some sense into the latter's head.

"Colonel Hawthorne is calling you; had not you better go and get some air?" Miss Bush suggested graciously. "It would be most beneficial, I am sure, to you, on this fine morning!"

"I daresay you are right--Well, I will go--only some day perhaps you will pay me some wages after all!"

"Is that a threat?"

"Not in the least"; he went towards the door. "Don't be cross--and when you have time will you come and see the pictures in the gallery?"

"Yes--I would love that," and her face brightened. "But you had better ask Lady Garribardine if I may."

"All right--Leave it to me--_Au revoir!_" and he was gone.

As he went down the stairs, he thought that it was a good idea of his aunt's to have had the smoking-room removed to this wing of the house.

It had only been done that autumn, so that the shooters could go straight in if they pleased, by the side door.

Katherine did not continue her typing for a moment after she was left alone. Her brows were contracted. She was thinking deeply.

Mr. Strobridge might not be quite so easy to rule as Charlie Prodgers.

She had heard that thoroughbred racers required the lightest hand, and also that there were moments when nothing would control them, neither bridle, nor whip, nor spur. She must think out her plan of action coolly. It was necessary for what she required of him that his desire to please her should surmount all other things. At the present stage it would be difficult to get him to talk sense--but she would do her best to make him do so. This point settled, she went on with her work again undisturbed.

Gerard Strobridge found old Tom Hawthorne a tiresome companion, on their prowl round the stables, and soon escaped to his aunt's sitting-room; he must somehow arrange for Katherine to see the pictures with him after lunch.

Lady Garribardine was reading the _Times_ when he came in, and looked up delightedly. She enjoyed converse with her favourite at any hour.

They talked of many things; politics in chief. Her Ladys.h.i.+p's views were Tory to the backbone, but she had a speculative cynical lightness which leavened any retrogressive tendencies. Gerard often disagreed with her just to draw out her views. She loathed the Radical government. It aroused her fiercest sarcasms and contempt.

How could such a cla.s.s of people, she argued, from their heredity, no matter what clever brains they had, have the right qualities in them to enable them to govern England? How could they with personal and financial axes to grind possibly concentrate honestly upon the welfare of the country above their own necessities? It was quite ridiculous in logic, whether their views were Radical or Tory. The supreme voice in the government of a country should only be in the hands of those raised by their position above all temptation for merely personal aggrandis.e.m.e.nt, so that the glory of the country could be their legitimate and undivided aim. It could not be that the little Mr.

Browns and Greens with their parochial lawyer instincts and bitter cla.s.s hatreds, greedy for their salaries and own advancement, could rise to the necessary heights of sublime prevision to enable them to see far enough ahead to have the final decision on any great question. She was all in favour of the most advanced views for the advantage and raising of the lower cla.s.ses in freedom and education, no matter from which side they emanated. But she resented the pus.h.i.+ng up of individuals totally unfit in integrity of character for the positions of authority they occupied, and who year after year were exposed as having in some way lowered the standard of honour in their office.

She would receive none such in her house.

"I eat with no one who lowers the prestige of my country in the eyes of other nations," she declared. "Making us a laughing-stock in Europe where we were once great!"

And for her that settled matters!

Mr. Strobridge coasted warily among the shoals of her opinions, and gradually got the conversation on the topic of the pictures in the gallery, some of which she really thought ought to be sent to London to be cleaned--had Gerard noticed lately?--particularly two early Italians?

This was a most fortunate suggestion! Mr. Strobridge had noticed--and had meant to speak about them.

"We must have a critical examination to-day after luncheon while the light is good. One ought not to delay over such matters."

He knew incidently that his aunt was going to drive Tom Hawthorne into the town in her phaeton, to try a new pair of cobs which she had bought just before Christmas, and would be starting the moment that meal was finished--but he showed just the right amount of regret and surprise when she informed him of this fact.

"Never mind. I will go round alone, or better still, if you could spare Miss Bush for an hour, I will get her to make shorthand notes of what I think should be done to each picture."

Lady Garribardine looked at her nephew shrewdly; his face was innocent as a babe's.

"I believe Miss Bush would make quite an agreeable companion in a picture gallery," she remarked.

"I am sure you are perfectly right."

Then they both laughed.

"G., you won't flirt with the girl, will you, and turn her head?"

"The sad part of the affair is that it is the girl who is more likely to turn my head. Her own is far too well screwed on."

"Upon my word, I believe you! Well, then, innocent of thirty-five, don't be beguiled into idiocy by this competent _seductrice_ of twenty-two!--If you were forty-five there would be no hope for you, but a glimmer of sanity may remain in the thirties!"

"She _is_ attractive, Seraphim--and will love to see the pictures. She says she wants to learn about art and literature--and kindred things."

"And you have offered to teach her?"

Mr. Strobridge put on a modest air, while his humorous grey eyes met his aunt's merrily.

"I have applied for the post of tutor--with no salary attached."

"She won't put up with inefficiency; you will have to keep your wits at high-water mark, then."