"How so? What do you mean?"

"To send me home, madam."

"I understand you, young lady. I am to send you back to your father's house as one whose presence here was too dangerous, whose attractions could only be resisted by means of absence and distance. A very interesting martyrdom might have been made of it, I 've no doubt, and even some speculation as to the conduct of a young gentleman so suddenly bereaved of the object of his affections. But all this is much too dignified for me. _My_ son shall be taught to respect himself without the intervention of any contrivance."

[Ill.u.s.tration: 256]

As she uttered the last words, she arose and approached the bell.

"Your Ladyship surely is not going--"

"I am going to send for Captain Martin, Miss Henderson."

"Do not, I entreat of you,--I implore your Ladyship," cried Kate, with her clasped hands trembling as she spoke.

"This agitation is not without a cause, and would alone decide me to call for my son."

"If I have ever deserved well at your hands, my Lady,--if I have served you faithfully in anything,--if my devotion has lightened you of one care, or aided you through one difficulty,--spare me, oh, spare me, I beseech you, this--degradation!"

"I have a higher consideration to consult here, Miss Henderson, than any which can have reference to you." She pulled the bell violently, and while her hand still held the cord, the servant entered. "Tell Captain Martin to come here," said she, and sat down.

Kate leaned her arm upon the chimney-piece, and, resting her head on it, never uttered a word.

For several minutes the silence was unbroken on either side. At last Lady Dorothea started suddenly, and said,--"We cannot receive Captain Martin here."

"Your Ladyship is full of consideration," said Kate, bitterly. "For a moment I had thought it was only an additional humiliation to which you had destined me."

"Follow me into the drawing-room, Miss Henderson," said Lady Dorothea, proudly, as she left the room. And with slow, submissive mien Kate quitted the chamber, and walked after her.

Scarcely had the door of the drawing-room been closed upon them than it was re-opened to admit Captain Martin. He was booted and spurred for his afternoon canter, and seemed in no wise pleased at the sudden interruption to his project.

"They said you wanted me," cried he; "and here have I been searching for you in your dressing-room, and all over the house."

"I desire to speak with you," said she, proudly; and she motioned to a chair.

"I trust the _seance_ is to be a brief one, otherwise I 'll beg a postponement," said he, half laughingly. Then turning his glance towards Kate, he remarked for the first time the deathlike color of her face, and an expression of repressed suffering that all her self-control could not conceal. "Has anything happened? What is it?" said he, in a half-whisper.

But she never replied, nor even seemed to heed his question.

"Tell me, I beseech you," cried he, turning to Lady Dorothea,--"tell me, has anything gone wrong?"

"It is precisely on that account I have sent for you, Captain Martin,"

said her Ladyship, as she a.s.signed to him a seat with a motion of her hand. "It is because a great deal has gone wrong here--and were it not for my vigilance, much more still likely to follow it--I have sent for you, sir, that you should hear from this young lady's lips a denial which, I own, has not satisfied _me_; nor shall it, till it be made in your presence and meet with your corroboration. Your looks, Miss Henderson," said she, addressing her, "would imply that all the suffering of the present moment falls to _your_ share; but I would beg you to bear in mind what a person in _my_ sphere must endure at the bare possibility of the event which now demands investigation."

"Good heavens! will not you tell me what it is?" exclaimed Martin, in the last extremity of impatience.

"I have sent for you, sir," resumed she, "that you should hear Miss Henderson declare that no attentions on your part--no a.s.siduities, I should perhaps call them--have ever been addressed to her; that, in fact"--here her Ladyship became embarra.s.sed in her explanation,--"that, in fact, those counsels--those very admirable aids to your conduct which she on so many occasions has vouchsafed to afford you--have had no object--no ulterior object, I should perhaps call it--and that your--your intercourse has ever been such as beseems the heir of Cro'

Martin, and the daughter of the steward on that property!"

"By Jove, I can make nothing of all this!" cried the Captain, whose bewildered looks fully corroborated the a.s.sertion.

"Lady Dorothea, sir, requires you to a.s.sure her that I have never made love to you," said Kate Henderson, with a look of scorn that her Ladyship did not dare to reply to. "_I_," added she, "have already given my pledge on this subject. I trust that your testimony will not gainsay me."

"Confound me if I can fathom it at all!" said he, more distracted than ever. "If you are alluding to the offer I made you--"

"The offer you made," cried Lady Dorothea. "When?--how?--in what wise?"

"No, no, I will speak out," said he, addressing Kate. "I am certain _you_ never divulged it; but I cannot accept that all the honorable dealing should be on one side only. Yes, my Lady, however you learned it, I cannot guess, but it is perfectly true; I asked Miss Henderson to be my wife, and she refused me."

A low, faint sigh broke from Lady Dorothea, and she fell back into her chair.

"She would have it,--it's not my fault,--you are witness it's not,"

muttered he to Kate. But she motioned him in silence to the door, and then opening the window, that the fresh air might enter, stood silently beside the chair.

A slight shivering shook her; and Lady Dorothea--her cheeks almost lividly pale--raised her eyes and fixed them on Kate Henderson.

"You have had your triumph!" said she, in a low but firm voice.

"I do not feel it such, madam," said Kate, calmly. "Nor is it in a moment of humiliation like this that a thought of triumph can enter."

"Hear me,--stoop down lower. You can leave this--tomorrow, if you wish it."

Kate bowed slowly in acquiescence.

"I have no need to ask you that what has occurred here should never be mentioned."

"You may trust me, madam."

"I feel that I may. There--I am better--quite well, now! You may leave me." Kate courtesied deeply, and moved towards the door. "One word before you go. Will you answer me one question? I'll ask but one; but your answer must be full, or not at all."

"So it shall be, madam. What is it?"

"I want to know the reason--on what grounds--you declined the proposal of my son?"

"For the same good reason, madam, that should have prevented his ever making it."

"Disparity--inequality of station, you mean?"

"Something like it, madam. Our union would have been both a blunder and a paradox. Each would have married beneath him!" And once more courtesying, and with an air of haughty dignity, Kate withdrew, and left her Ladyship to her own thoughts.

Strange and conflicting were the same thoughts; at one moment stimulating her to projects of pa.s.sionate vengeance, at the next suggesting the warmest measures of reconciliation and affection. These indeed predominated, for in her heart pride seemed the emblem of all that was great, n.o.ble, or exalted; and when she saw that sentiment, not fostered by the accidents of fortune, not a.s.sociated with birth, lineage, and high station, but actually rising superior to the absence of all these, she almost felt a species of worship for one so gloriously endowed.

"She might be a d.u.c.h.ess!" was the only speech she uttered, and the words revealed a whole volume of her meditations. It was curious enough how completely all recollection of her son was merged and lost in the greater interest Kate's character supplied. But so is it frequently in life. The traits which most resemble our own are those we alone attach importance to, and what we fancy admiration of another is very often nothing more than the gratified contemplation of ourselves.

CHAPTER XXIII. MAURICE SCANLAN ADVISES WITH "HIS COUNSEL"