A fly was passing slowly along the road beyond our hedge. I caught a glimpse of a woman’s face inside, and half rose up.
“She is going away!” I exclaimed.
My father, too, had half risen. He made a movement as though to hurry from the room, but with an effort he restrained himself. The effect of her appearance upon him was very evident to me. His under lip was twitching, and his long, white fingers were nervously interlaced. Alice, bland and unseeing, glanced carelessly out of the window.
“It is our mysterious neighbor from the Yellow House,” she remarked. “If a tithe of what people say about her is true we ought to rejoice that she is going away. It is a pity she is not leaving for good.”
My father opened his lips as though about to speak. He changed his mind, however, and left the room. The burden of her defence remained with me.
“If I were you I would not take any notice of what people say about her,” I remarked. “In all probability you will only hear a pack of lies. I had tea with her yesterday afternoon, and she seemed to me to be a very well-bred and distinguished woman.”
Alice looked at me with wide-open eyes, and an expression almost of horror in her face.
“Do you mean to say that you have been to see her, that you have been inside her house, Kate?” she cried.
I nodded.
“I was caught in the rain and she asked me in,” I explained, coolly. “Afterwards I liked her so much that I was glad to stay to tea when she asked me. She is a very charming woman.”
Alice looked at me blankly.
“But, Kate, didn’t Lady Naselton tell you about her? Surely you have heard what people say?”
I shrugged my shoulders slightly.
“Lady Naselton told me a good many things,” I answered; “but I do not make a point of believing everything disagreeable which I hear about people. Do you think that charitable yourself?”
My sister’s face hardened. She had all the prejudices of her type, in her case developed before their time. She was the vicar’s daughter, in whose eyes the very breath of scandal was like a devastating wind. Her point of view, and consequently her judgment, seemed to me alike narrow and cruel.
“You forget your position,” she said, with cold indignation. “There are other reports of that woman besides Lady Naselton’s. Depend upon it there is no smoke without fire. It is most indiscreet of you to have had any communication with her.”
“That,” I declared, “is a matter of opinion.”
“I believe that she is not a nice woman,” Alice said, firmly.
“And I shall believe her to be a very nice one until I know the contrary,” I answered. “I know her and you do not, and I can assure you that she is much more interesting than any of the women who have called upon us round here.”
Alice was getting angry with me.
“You prefer an interesting woman to a good one,” she said, warmly.
“Without going quite so far as that, I certainly think that it is unfortunate that most of the good women whom one meets are so uninteresting,” I answered. “Goodness seems so satisfying—in the case of repletion. I mean—it doesn’t seem to leave room for anything else.”
Whereupon Alice left me in despair, and I found myself face to face with my father. He looked at me in stern disapproval. There was a distinctly marked frown on his forehead.
“You are too fond of those flighty sayings, Kate,” he remarked, sternly. “Let me hear less of them.”
I made no reply. There were times when I was almost afraid of my father, when a suppressed irritation of manner seemed like the thin veneer beneath which a volcano was trembling. To-day the signs were there. I made haste to change the subject.
“The letters have just come,” I said, holding out a little packet to him. “There is one for you from a place I never heard of—somewhere in South America, I think.”
He took them from me and glanced at the handwriting of the topmost one. Then for a short space of time I saw another man before me. The calm strength of his refined, thoughtful face was transformed. Like a flash the gleam of a dark passion lit up his brilliant eyes. His lips quivered, his fingers were clenched together. For a moment I thought he would have torn the letter into shreds unopened. With an evident effort, however, he restrained himself, and went out of the room bearing the letter in his hand.
I heard him walking about in his study all the morning. At luncheon time he had quite recovered his composure, but towards its close he made, for us, a somewhat startling announcement.
“I am going to London this afternoon,” he said, quietly.
“To London?” we both echoed.
“Yes. There is a little business there which requires my personal attention.”
Under the circumstances Alice was even more surprised than I was.
“But how about Mr. Hewitt?” she reminded him blandly. “We were to meet him at the schools at five o’clock this afternoon about the new ventilators.”
“Mr. Hewitt must be put off until my return,” my father answered. “The schools have done without them for ten years so they can go on for another week. Can I trouble you for the Worcestershire sauce, Kate?”
This was my father’s method of closing the subject. Alice looked at me with perplexed face, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I was wondering whether my father would undertake a commission for me at Debenham and Freebody’s.
“Shall you be going West?” I asked him.
He looked up at me and hesitated for a moment.
“My business is in the city,” he said, coldly. “What do you call West?”
“Regent Street,” I answered.
He considered a few moments.
“I may be near there,” he said. “If so I will try to do what you require. Do not be disappointed if I should happen to forget about it, though. If it is important you had better send direct.”
“I would rather you called if it wouldn’t be bothering you,” I told him. “There is some money to pay, and it would save my getting postal orders.”
I left the room to write a note. When I came back my father had gone into his study. I followed him there, and, entering the room without knocking, found him bending over his desk.
He looked up at me and frowned.
“What do you want?” he said, sharply.
I explained, and he took the note from me, listening to the details of my commission, and making a note in his pocket-book.
“I will see to this for you if I can,”
