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CHAPTER XXIV

MEANWHILE Ethel, with the daring and courage of which she had never believed herself capable, had ordered a hansom and had driven straight to the Métropole. She found Kate in her bedroom.

"My dear Ethel, how glad I am to see you," said Mrs. Henley.

Kate was looking quite blooming; she had cast off the last vestige of care, her daring idea had succeeded, she was soon going to leave England and these cares, these dangers, these terrors, behind her for ever. Already she and her husband had taken their passage on one of the largest Orient liners. They were to sail for Australia in a week's time.

"It's very nice to see you again, Ethel," said Kate; "but where is Mary?"

"Oh, goodness knows. Don't ask me where Mary is," said Ethel. "It is perfectly distracting; I cannot imagine what is the matter with her; she grows queerer every day. What do you think we did the day after we left you? Where do you think we went?"

"How can I tell?"

"Well, my dear Kitty, if I am worn out with travel and anxiety don't be astonished--we went down to Cornwall."

"To Cornwall? What for?" said Kate. A little of the old anxiety visited her clear eyes, but she quickly veiled them. She was learning better day by day to suppress all undue emotion.

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"To Cornwall!" she repeated. She turned and began to fold up different ribbons which she was putting into a hat-box.

"Do look at this unique, delicious travelling case for hats and bonnets," she said. "See all these little pegs-- everything in such complete order. I can take eight hats in this trunk, and they will be as fresh and as little likely to get injured, as if they were reposing in my wardrobe at home. Oh dear, oh dear, how tired I am! But what took you to Cornwall? You were just telling me."

"If you want to know who took me to Cornwall--Mary took me," replied Ethel. "I always go where Mary goes; I have done so all my life. She wanted me to accompany her, so I went. We went down the day before yesterday, and who do you think we saw in the evening? We went to your place, you know."

"To my place--to Castellis?" said Kate.

She was getting intensely, fearfully interested, but she did not dare to show it.

"Yes, to Castellis. Not to the house, of course, but to the village. We put up at the inn, and in the evening we had a visitor."

"Who?"

"Oh, can't you guess? We don't know many people round there. Sir John Fenton-Douglas."

"Oh, do be careful, Ethel; you are spoiling that Marabout feather."

Kate sprang towards her cousin and, almost roughly, took the small pink Marabout feather which Ethel was playing with from her hand.

"There, do forgive me. I was cross," she said.

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"You certainly were; you jumped on me almost as if you meant to give me a blow. And I really was not injuring the feather."

"I am so sorry, darling. Sit down here and let us talk. How very funny of Mary to go to Cornwall!--but what did she say to Sir John Fenton-Douglas?"

"Ah, I wish I could tell you that, Kate, but I cannot. They had a long interview, a very long interview, but when she came up to bed afterwards she would not tell me a word of what they had said."

"Then you were not present? Oh, Ethel, wish you would not fidget!"

"Fidget? I am sitting as still as a mouse. You seem to have got Mary's nerves. I was not present because Mary wished to see him alone. Oh, it was a great mystery, and she was frightfully excited. I cannot think what has come to her: she seems to have a sort of suspicion about you, Kate--why, Kitty darling, how white you are!"

"It is because I am not strong," said Kate. "What in the world can Mary suspect me of? But I have noticed it, Ethel; I don't mind confiding in you."

"I should think you could scarcely help noticing it. She has been suspecting you ever since you came home, and it breaks my heart, Kitty--that it does." Here the impulsive Ethel sprang towards her cousin, flung her arms round her neck, and burst into tears.

"Oh--I love you so--I love you so!" whispered Ethel. "It's horrid of her--it is--it is!"

"Never mind," answered Kate, "she cannot do me any harm; only I should like to know what she really thinks."

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"Oh, who cares what she thinks?" said Ethel. "But it is a sign of insanity, isn't it, when one begins to suspect people?"

"A very grave sign," said Kate.

"Well, I am awfully nervous about Mary. Did you ever hear, Kate, that any of our family were--I scarcely like to ask it, but did you ever hear that any of our family were insane?"

"Oh, don't question me," said Kate. She turned away and began once more to fiddle with her ribbons and feathers.

"But why don't you speak? You know all about our family, of course."

"I was only thinking of a story my father once told me; it was about an aunt of both of ours."

"Oh, tell me--do tell me!"

"She went queer, very much as Mary is going queer. She began to suspect all kinds of people. They locked her up for a time, then she got better. That is the only case I have heard of, and her name was Julia--Aunt Julia."

"Aunt Julia--why, of course, we have her picture at home."

"Poor thing, she made a very low marriage--married beneath her."

"We have the picture up in the attic," continued Ethel. "It is not thought anything of. She was very pretty, sweetly pretty."

"Yes, that was her. She married beneath her, and then she got queer. She began to suspect her husband of all sorts of things, and he was a very good man and very faithful to her; and they locked her up, and she came out again, but she did not live very long--she died of consumption. We are not a | | 241 very healthy race," continued Kate, and here she gave a deep sigh.

"Oh, do tell me, please Kate--never mind about Mary just now; I earnestly hope she is not going off her head--but just tell me, please, what Dr. Agnes Stevenson said of you."

Kate sat down gravely. She said "You don't mind my telling you quite the truth, go you, Ethel?"

"Why, of course not; but she is not frightened about you?"

"Not frightened, darling; but she acknowledges that I have been very ill--the traces of my illness are quite apparent. She says if I go to Australia soon I shall be all right."

"And are you going? How I wish you would take me with you!"

"I would gladly, Ethel, if you liked it. Would you care to come?"

"Awfully--beyond anything. Since Mary has got so queer I cannot stand her, she makes me so nervous."

"Poor Mary! she ought to have a change; she ought to go away from her people."

"I will suggest it to father, and I will suggest that I go with you and Ralph. Oh, do agree to it, Kitty darling!"

"I should like it of all things," said Kate. She considered carefully for a moment. After all, it would be an excellent plan if she took Ethel with her and left Marryat behind. Marryat knew too much. She might pension Marryat off, she could make it worth her while to be silent, and she was no longer essential to her. She could do without a maid, and take this gentle, clever, affectionate little Ethel; and Ethel would so like to come.

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"We will think of it," she said; "I will speak to Ralph when he comes in. But if you come, Ethel, you have very little time to prepare, for we are sailing this day week."

"Oh yes," thought Kate to herself, "we must on no account postpone our departure--Mary is getting quite terrible. I must foster that idea of Ethel's that Mary is going off her head. It is an excellent thought which Ethel has put into my brain."

Ethel presently left her cousin. She did so before Ralph appeared on the scene. She drove straight back to the Grosvenor Hotel. Mary had just returned from her non-successful interview with Dr. Agnes Stevenson. Mary was feeling not only cross but snubbed; she was just in the humour to snub others, and Ethel had the reverse of a gay time at lunch. Ethel mentioned casually that she had taken the bull by the horns and had gone off on her own account to visit Kate.

"And Kate is going to Australia this day week," said Ethel.

"Oh no, she is not," replied Mary. She raised her eyes and fixed them on her sister's face.

"She is not?" said Ethel in absolute terror. She was now certain that Mary was insane. "Why do you say that? She has taken her passage--she and Ralph are both going. Dr. Agnes Stevenson saw her, and says that dear Kate is very far from strong, her lungs bear traces of serious disease in the past, and she must get away to a more equable climate immediately."

"Oh, I know all that," said Mary; "but all the same she is not going--not if I can prevent her."

"I don't understand you, Mary. But there, take your lunch, you look quite fagged."

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Mary flung herself petulantly down by the table. She did not care for her food, and only played with it. Ethel, who was very hungry herself, felt too much alarm about Mary to eat. She longed to be at home; she wondered when her father and mother would come back.

"What are we going to do this afternoon?" she said at last.

"We are going back to the Grange. I did not mention that I had a telegram from father in the course of the morning. He and mother arrived home last night."

"Oh, how glad I am!" said Ethel, heaving a deep sigh of relief.

"Dear me, Ethel, I did not know you missed them so terribly."

"But I do, I do," said Ethel; "I have not been away from the darling mummy for so long for many, many years, and, Mary, so much has happened."

"I should rather think a great deal has happened," replied Mary.

"And--and you are not well, Mary."

"I not well? I am perfectly well; what do you mean?"

"They always say they are perfectly well; they never guess for a moment that their minds are going," thought Ethel. "Well, I must humour her. I am glad you are well, dear old Mary. It is only just the extra fatigue, that is why I said it--you are so pale lately."

"I wish you would not stare at me in that unpleasant way, Ethel. I believe you have taken it from Kate; she often stares fixedly at a person and then looks away."

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"I have never noticed it," said Ethel.

"Have you not? But you are not remarkable, my dear Ethel, for your powers of observation. Now then, I'll desire the waiter to bring our bill; we will settle up and go home by the next train."

This was done, and on the evening of that day Ethel found herself pacing up and down the shrubbery by her father's side.

Mr. Hume was in excellent spirits. He was glad to be back again. The house was in perfect order; his wife had benefited by her change; his own business prospects were excellent; he enjoyed the thought of being back again in town day after day, very busy at work. He was delighted to have his girls with him, and now pinched Ethel's ear playfully.

"Well, little lass," he said, "what is the matter? You look as if you meant to ask me something."

"And I do mean to ask you for a great, a very great favour, father."

"Well, little woman, ask away."

"But will you grant it?"

"Certainly not, until I know what it is."

"Oh, father dear, if only you would grant it, oh, how grateful I should be."

"Well, ask it, my child, ask it."

"You know, don't you, that Ralph and Kate are going to Australia next week?"

"Yes," said Mr. Hume. "I must go up to town to see them to-morrow. I had a line from Ralph; he has taken their passage on board the Hydra. She is one of the fastest ships on the line."

"And the Orient Line boats are splendid, are they not, father?"

"Yes, dear; some of the best of all."

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Ethel sighed. The little hand which rested on her father's arm trembled slightly.

"Now, what is it, young woman? What does all this mean? You are sorry to part from Kate, eh? That I can quite understand."

"Oh, father, I should be terribly sorry to part from her, I love her so much. You know I have always loved our dear Kitty."

"I know that."

"I feel so differently towards her to what Mary does."

"Mary does not look well," said the lawyer in an anxious voice.

"Oh, father, I don't think she is very well. But I am not talking about her now; it is about myself."

"Well, Ethel, I wish you would not beat about the bush."

"It is this, father; it would be such a treat: may I go with Kate to Australia?"

"What?" said Mr. Hume. He dropped his daughter's hand, turned and faced her.

"May I go, father? I should enjoy it so much."

"Don't on any account give her permission, father," at that moment said Mary's voice. "I have heard her; her request is preposterous. I have something I wish to say to you in private. You can leave us for the present, Ethel."

"But I won't go," said Ethel; " I won't!" Her colour came and went. "I won't be ruled by you any longer, Mary. I am determined to go with Kate to Australia. You won't say No, will you, father?"

"Father will not only say No," replied Mary; "but Kate herself will be obliged to remain in this country. I have something important to say to my father, and alone. Leave us, Ethel, for the present."