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CHAPTER X

ONE or two days later, when Miss Bouverie was thoroughly established in her pretty little flat, Henley walked in. She had been practising for some hours, and jumped up now from the piano bright and radiant.

"No, you are not to hear me yet," she said, with a smile. "I find I lost much of my former skill by not touching the piano for some months, but long before we are married I shall be able to play you anything in the world you like, Ralph darling. Now, then, let us sit by the open window. Oh, it is so good to see you, and to feel that we shall not be interrupted."

"By the way, Kate," said her lover, "I have something to tell you. I wasn't able to go to the Ormes' yesterday, but I went to-day."

"Oh, don't mind about the stupid Ormes," interrupted Kate. "Talk about yourself."

"But it is strange, my love; just listen. Sir John was present, and as he was leaving the room I followed him and spoke about you. He prides himself on remembering all about his patients--their names, and everything--but he could not recall anything whatever about you. When he went to look in his case-book, he found that your name was not entered. I must say, I was dissatisfied."

"How funny of him to forget!" said Kate. "But I'm afraid I have no solution of the mystery." Her | | 84 face had turned pale for a moment, but now her eyes looked bright and resolved. "I called on him and got his prescription. What can he be thinking about?"

"He says you had better come again."

"So I will in a week or two, when I have given his gargles a careful trial. But don't let us bother about it any more now, Ralph. I am so happy here; it is so much nicer than staying at the Grange."

"You don't seem to be very fond of the Humes, when all is said and done," said Ralph. "And you used to be devoted to them--more particularly to your Aunt Susannah."

"I was a child then; you cannot expect girls to feel exactly as they did when they were little children. But I do like them all very much indeed."

"Kate, I knew there was something else I wanted to say. Mr. Hume met me this morning, and said that he had an offer for the Pines; a very nice family want to take it on lease, and they offer quite a big rent. I don't suppose for a single moment you will approve, but Castellis is really a great castle of a place, and--your uncle would have mentioned it himself but he asked me to do so, as Sir John Fenton-Douglas wants to know as soon as possible. From all accounts, the Fenton-Douglases will be pleasant neighbours; but still--"

"Tell Uncle Robert when you see him to let the Pines, by all means," replied Kate.

"I am glad you take it in such a sensible spirit; but of course you remember what a queer objection your father had to letting the old house, and when I wrote to you last spring on the subject, you replied that nothing would induce you to allow strangers to inhabit the Pines."

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"That was quite natural during father's lifetime," replied Kate. "But things are changed now, and I really cannot live at the same time both at Castellis and the Pines, and it would be nice to have neighbours. When you see Uncle Robert, tell him that I have no objection to the Pines being let."

Ralph gave a sigh, which he no sooner uttered than suppressed. Kate was very sensible, but his memory of the old Kitty was that she had less sense and more--was it possible--more heart? But just then Kitty, the present Kitty, bent forward and touched his cheek with her red lips, and then all feeling, except that he loved her with all his heart and soul, left him. He kissed her rapturously, and they went out and stood on the little balcony.

An hour later Henley went away. The instant he was out of the house Kate began to pace restlessly up and down.

"What a fool I have been!" she muttered. "I thought myself so clever, I certainly ought to have gone to see Sir John Orme. There is one lesson I must bear in mind, and that is, never, never, in a position like mine, to tell one unnecessary lie. Now, I have told several, and got myself into a scrape. What shall I do? I really have subjected myself to a serious risk. I must think this out."

She stood with her hand pressed to her cheek in anxious thought. Presently she rang her bell.

When the smartly dressed page answered the summons he found his young mistress writing a note at her davenport.

"Send Marryat to me at once," she said.

The boy withdrew, and in another moment the maid entered the room.

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"You want me, madam? What can I do for you?" she asked.

"I wish you, Marryat, to take this note immediately to Sir John Orme's house in Queen Anne Street."

"Yes, madam; you mean the great throat specialist?"

"You know about him," said Kate. "Come a little nearer, Marryat; I want to say something."

The woman approached.

"There are several things you can do for me if you continue to be my maid. First, and above all other things, you can hold your tongue. Do you quite understand?"

"Yes, of course, miss."

Marryat narrowed her dark eyes and fixed them curiously upon Kate's blooming face. This was by no means the first time the young lady had puzzled her.

"People can be paid for holding their tongues," continued the girl. "I am, as you know, Marryat, very rich. Now, you quite understand. There is to be no tattling in servants' halls, no breach of confidence. You, Marryat, would not object to having a little more of this world's goods, would you?"

"Oh, certainly not, Miss Bouverie. Who would? And I have an invalid mother at home."

"Ah, I daresay. Here is a five-pound note. Have it changed into postal orders and send it to your mother to-morrow."

"Is this over and above my wages, miss?"

"It has nothing to do with your wages; it is a little present from me for doing that great thing--holding your tongue. You quite understand."

"Yes, Miss Bouverie, I quite understand."

"Then, that is all right. Now take a hansom | | 87 and drive straight to Sir John Orme's house. If he is in, wait for an answer to this note."

"Yes, miss."

"And while you are waiting, use your wits, Marryat."

"What do you mean, miss? It may be best to confide in me to a certain extent, miss."

"I want you while you are waiting for Sir John Orme to find out something about his establishment--I mean the medical part. Find out if another doctor ever assists him, and if so, on what days. Find out all you can--all about his practice, I mean--what times he is in and what times he is away, and bring me back word as soon as possible."

"And I am to bring an answer to the letter, Miss Bouverie?"

"If he is in, you will wait for an answer. Now go, and be quick. Remember what you are paid for."

"I quite remember, miss."

When the maid left the room a queer look came over her face.

"Now what does this mean?" she soliloquised. "Miss Bouverie bribes me to keep silence; she pays me to hold my tongue. What does she want to know about Sir John Orme's medical establishment? Well, I must do her bidding; but I'm blessed if I know what it means."

About an hour and a half later Marryat returned. Kate was now in her bedroom. She was in a pretty dressing-gown of white, trimmed with lace and pale blue ribbons. Her long hair streamed down her back.

"What a time you have been!" said the girl impatiently.

"The doctor was out, miss, when I arrived. I | | 88 thought I had better wait, as the note seemed important. Sir John was dining out, and didn't come in till past eleven."

"Has he given you an answer for me?"

"Yes, miss; here it is."

Kate hastily tore open the envelope and read as follows:--

"Sir John Orme presents his compliments to Miss Kate Bouverie, and regrets that he cannot find her name in his case-book. He cannot, therefore, supply the missing prescription. If Miss Bouverie will call upon Sir John Orme to-morrow morning, he will be pleased to see her."

"That is all right," said Kate. "Have you anything to tell me, Marryat?"

"The footman, miss, was very polite and confidential, so to speak. Sir John has had a doctor helping him lately--a Mr. Jacobs."

"Mr. Jacobs saw some of Sir John's patients, did he?"

"So it seems, miss. But he has gone away now, owing to a case of illness in his own family in the north of England. He won't be back, the footman thinks, for some weeks."

Kate uttered a sigh of relief.

"You have done admirably, Marryat," she said. "Please brush my hair now; I am very tired, and will get into bed quickly."

About eleven o'clock on the following morning Kate called upon the great specialist. She was dressed most charmingly, and looked her very best. The moment Sir John Orme came in she gave a start.

"Are you Sir John Orme?" she said impulsively.

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The doctor bowed.

"Then, of course, I have not seen you before. I called here, but the man I saw was quite different."

"A little man with red hair--eh?" exclaimed the doctor.

"Exactly," answered Kate, gladly taking up the cue which was so unexpectedly offered to her.

"Did you come here on Wednesday of last week?" continued the doctor.

"Yes, it was Wednesday."

"Well, then, the whole thing is explained. Jacobs saw my patients on that day. He saw you, of course; that accounts for the mistake."

"Of course," answered Kate, with a laugh.

"Nevertheless," continued the doctor, "it does not account for his omitting to enter your name in his case-book--Jacobs is always most particular with regard to that. Now I find, on looking through the book, that there is no mention of your name."

"After all, does it matter?" said Kate. "I want you to see my throat now. I thought when I was consulting Mr. Jacobs that I was consulting you, Sir John Orme."

"And you really lost his prescription?"

"I did. It was so stupid of me. I must have taken it out of my pocket with my handkerchief. When I got to the chemist's it was missing. Was it very rude of me to ask you to send me another last night?"

"It was not customary," replied the old doctor with a smile. "But pray say nothing more, about that. Now tell me what is the matter with you."

Kate described her imaginary symptoms.

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"And you used to sing a great deal?"

"Yes."

"Your voice was supposed to be a fine one?"

"I think it was a very fine one, Sir John. It used to give me great pleasure and also my father."

"And you say it has now completely left you?"

"It has; I cannot sing a note."

"Then the vocal chords must be seriously injured. You do not appear to be suffering from cold."

"I have none of the symptoms of the ordinary cold."

"I will examine your throat. Come and sit in this chair near the window."

The examination took place and was quickly over. Sir John wrote a prescription.

"Is there much the matter?" asked Kate, as she was leaving the room.

"Nothing to be alarmed about. If you have got the vocal chords which are essential to a great singer they will soon recover their tone. Use this gargle three times a day, and take this tonic also."

"And shall I see you again?"

"It is scarcely necessary. If you have a voice, and the voice is gone, what you have to do is to get yourself stronger. Good-bye."

Kate laid her two guineas in the doctor's palm. When she had gone he looked strangely at the money.

"Not at all the throat of a great singer," he said to himself. "I must be careful to question Jacobs when he comes back. It is quite unaccountable his omitting to enter Miss Bouverie's name in his case-book."

As Kate was driving home she thought--

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"Sir John Orme knows perfectly well that I have never sung a note; I saw the knowledge in his face. I shall take good care never to visit him again."

"Ralph," said Kate, when her lover visited her in the afternoon of that same day, "my throat was so uncomfortable last night that I determined to see Sir John Orme this morning. He then told me that it was his assistant, Mr. Jacobs, who saw me when I first called."

"Well, then, that's all right, Kitty; but the main thing to consider is not who saw you, but what these men are doing for your voice. Perhaps, when we are married, the doctor would like you to visit some of those foreign spas, such as Aix-les-Bains."

"Oh, I don't think I need do that," said Kate; "I just want to get quite strong and to get over all the worry I had in India. You know, dear," she added, "I am naturally very cheerful; but with all that, I cannot help thinking over matters. I have had restless nights of late, and my poor little companion dying so suddenly at Mentone has upset my nerves. I often think of her, and I miss her so much."

"To be sure, Kate. I always knew you were intensely affectionate. Well, dearest, now I have something else to talk over. I do so wish we might be married before the end of June."

Kate smiled.

"And so do I," she answered. "The sooner I am your wife the happier I shall be. But we won't marry in May--of that I am quite determined. It is an unlucky month for weddings."

"Well, say the first of June?"

"You must hurry up Uncle Robert. He does | | 92 seem to have such a fearful lot to do with regard to my marriage settlements."

"Oh, that can be managed," said Ralph in a somewhat inconsequent tone; "a few more lawyer's clerks must be engaged in the matter, and the thing is done. Kate, my darling, you make me the happiest man on earth. A whole life devoted to you will not be too much. You will see when I am your husband how deeply I love you, my Kate."

"And I hope you will also find out, Ralph, how much I love you. You suit me exactly. After all, it was an experiment; but it has succeeded."

"An experiment! What do you mean?"

"I mean this. The chances were that things would be quite different. Remember you have not seen me since I was a little girl of eleven. How could you possibly tell that you would like me when I was grown up? I also felt that there was great risk. I knew it was quite on the cards that I should not like you; but things are not so. The dream, Ralph, has turned out to be much more delightful in the reality, and I believe you feel the same about me. Yes, we are lucky, and our combined fortunes--"

"Oh, don't talk about our fortunes in the same breath," answered Henley with some impatience. "The thing that worries me is your being so rich. Compared to you, I am a poor man."

"What is your income, Ralph?"

"I am supposed to possess between four and five thousand a year."

"We could be very happy on that," said Kate in a plaintive voice. She was silent for a moment; she was thinking down deep in her heart. Suppose she had won Ralph as her true self--as Kate Mildmay. | | 93 Suppose that this terrible deception had never taken place, and that this tissue of lies had not existed. Suppose--suppose, too--but what was the use of supposing? She could not have climbed this hill of pleasure by any other means than those which she had resorted to. She must go on now; she must not falter and turn back. Of one thing she was determined--remorse should never seize her.

"Let us go into the park for a drive," she said restlessly to her lover. "I have ordered a nice little victoria from the nearest livery stables to come here every afternoon at four. Will you come, Ralph?"

"Of course I will."

Half-an-hour later, Kate, in her gayest and most fashionable dress, was seated by her lover's side in a small victoria drawn by a pair of spirited bays. Many people noticed the handsome pair as they drove past. Ralph was smiling and replying to some light words of Kate's, when suddenly the smile died on his lips, and his brows were contracted in an ominous frown.

"Why, what is the matter?" she cried. "Who are you looking daggers at?"

"I thought it was the fellow; now I am sure," was his answer.

"What fellow, Ralph? What do you mean?"

"A ruffianly chap who molested me at Mentone. He knocked me down in one of the passes and tried to get ten pounds from me, the scoundrel! I did not want to frighten you about it at the time. There he is--and he recognises me. There, Kate--over there! He is a most objectionable person."

"Where--where?" said Kate, her lips trembling in her eagerness. "Show me the man, Ralph."

Henley pointed out the shabby figure of Merriman.

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"Kate, my darling, what is the matter?" he cried a moment later. "You look as if you were going to faint."

"It is the heat," answered Kate. "It is a very hot day for the time of year."

"Hot! I thought it quite cold!"

"Never mind. I should like to go home."

"Did you see the man, Kate? There he is, moving away in the crowd to the right."

"I saw a man; he was looking very hard at you. I am not quite certain if he is the man you mean. It doesn't matter. My head aches badly. Do ask the coachman to drive us home."