"Yes, yes; I know all about that," interrupted Katherine, who was rather irritated than soothed by her sister-in-law's attempt at preaching; and recovering herself, she added: "I will not worry you with my tears. Tell me how the boys get on with Colonel Ormonde."

"Very well indeed, especially Cecil. 'Duke is very kind. They have a pony, and quite enjoy the country; but now that we have a boy of our own, we feel doubly anxious that Cis and Charlie should be permanently provided for; so do, dear, come back with me, and talk it all over with my husband. He is _such_ a good man of business."

Katherine smiled faintly; she had not seen the drift of Mrs. Ormonde's remarks at first; there was no mistaking them now. A slightly mischievous sense of power kept her from setting her sister-in-law's mind at rest immediately.

"I do not think it necessary to consult with Colonel Ormonde, Ada, for I have quite made up my mind what to do. I think you may trust your boys to me. I must see Mr. Newton and arrange many matters, so I do not think I can go to you just yet. Then, I do not like to be in the way, and I could _not_ mix in society just yet. Oh, I am not morbid or sentimental, but some months of seclusion I _must_ have."

Mrs. Ormonde played with the ta.s.sel of the screen with which she sheltered her face from the fire while she thought: "What can she really mean to do? I wonder if she is engaged to any one, and waiting for him here? Once she is married, good-by to a settlement. She is awfully deep!" Then she said aloud, coaxingly, "Oh, we are very quiet home-staying people. We have a few men to stay now and again, but we never give big dinners. Tell me the truth, dear, are you not engaged? It would be but natural. A charming girl like you, with a large fortune, could not escape a mult.i.tude of lovers."

"You are wrong, Ada. I am not engaged, and I have no lovers. Of course a prince or two and a German graf did me the honor of proposing to annex my property, taking myself with it. Any well-dowered girl may expect such offers in Continental society; but they did not affect me."

"No, no; certainly not! It will be an Englishman. Quite right. And 'Duke must find out all about him. You know, dear, you would marry ever so much better from _my_ house than you possibly could _here_, with a person who, after all, merely keeps a _pension_."

"If Miss Payne could hear you!" said Katherine.

"Oh, I should never say it to her. But, Katherine, now is your time, when you are of age, and before you marry--now is the time to settle whatever you intend to settle on my poor little boys. I am sure you will excuse me for mentioning it, won't you? Between you and me, I don't think 'Duke would have married if he had not believed you would provide for Cis and Charlie. I don't know what would become of us if they were thrown on his hands."

"You need not fear," cried Katherine, quickly. "My nephews shall never cost Colonel Ormonde a sou."

"No, I was sure you wouldn't, dear, you are such a kind, generous creature, so unselfish. I do hate selfishness, and though the allowance you now give is very handsome--"

"I am to make it a little larger," put in Katherine, good-humoredly, as Mrs. Ormonde paused, not knowing how to finish her sentence. "Be content, Ada; you shall have due notice when I have made all my plans. I have a good deal to do, for I ought to make my will too."

"Your will! Oh yes, to be sure. I never thought of that. But if you marry it will be of no use."

"Until I _am_ married it will be of use."

"And when do you intend to come to us?"

"Oh, some time next month."

"I hope so. I want to come up for a while after Easter, and am trying to get the Colonel to take a house; _that_ depends on you a good deal. If you would join me in taking a house for three months he would agree at once."

"But I have just agreed to stay with Miss Payne for a year."

"How foolish! how short-sighted!" cried Mrs. Ormonde. "You will be just lost in a second-rate place like this."

"It will suit me perfectly. I only want rest and peace at present. I dare say it will not be so always."

"Well, I know there is no use in talking to you. You will go your own way. Only, as I am in town, _do_ come to my dressmaker's. Though you had your mourning in Paris, do you know, you look quite dowdy. You'll not mind my saying so?"

"I dare say I do. Miss Payne got everything for me."

"Oh, are you going to give yourself into her hands blindfold? I am afraid she is a designing woman. You really must get some stylish dresses. You must do yourself justice."

"I have as many as I want, and there is no need of wasting money, even if you have a good deal. How many poor souls need food and clothes!"

"Oh, Katherine, if you begin to talk in that way, you will be robbed and plundered to no end."

"I hope not. Here is tea, and Miss Payne. I will come and see you to-morrow early, and bring some little presents for the boys."

CHAPTER XII.

"I WAS A STRANGER AND YE TOOK ME IN."

Mrs. Ormonde lingered as long as she could. Bond Street was paradise to her, Regent Street an Elysian Field. While she staid she gave her sister-in-law little peace, and until she had departed Katherine did not attempt to go into business matters with Mr. Newton. She was half amused, half disgusted, at Mrs. Ormonde's perpetual reminders, hints, and innuendoes touching the settlement on her boys. Ada was the same as ever, yet Katherine liked her for the sake of the memories she evoked and shared.

It was quite a relief when she left town, and Katherine felt once more her own mistress. Her heart yearned for her little nephews, but she felt it was wiser to wait and see them at home rather than send for them at present. She greatly feared that the new baby, the son of a living, prosperous father, was pushing the sons of the first husband--who had taken his unlucky self out of the world, where he had been anything but a success--from their place in her affections.

Meantime she held frequent consultations with Mr. Newton, who was very devoted to her service, and anxious to do his best for her. He remonstrated earnestly with her on her over-generosity to her nephews.

"Provide for them if you will, my dear young lady, but believe me you are by no means called upon to _divide_ your property with them. Do not make them too independent of you; hold something in your hand. Besides, you do not know what considerations may arise to make you regret too great liberality."

"I have very little use for money now," said Katherine, sadly.

"You have always been remarkably moderate in your expenditure," returned the lawyer, who had the entire management of her affairs. "But now you will probably like to establish yourself in London, say, for headquarters."

"Not for the present. I shall stay where I am until some plan of life suggests itself."

"Perhaps you are right, and certainly you are a very prudent young lady."

This conversation took place in Mr. Newton's office, and after some further discussion Katherine was persuaded to settle a third instead of the half of her property on her nephews, out of which a jointure was to be paid to Mrs. Ormonde.

"I wish I could have the boys with me," said Katherine, as she rose to leave Mr. Newton.

"My dear Miss Liddell, take care how you saddle yourself with the difficult task of standing _in loco parentis_; leave the very serious responsibilities of bringing up boys to the mother whose they are. At your age, and with the almost certainty of forming new ties, such a step would be very imprudent."

"At all events I shall see how they all get on at Castleford before I commit myself to anything. You will lose no time, dear Mr. Newton, in getting this deed ready for my signature. I do not want to say anything about it till it is 'signed, sealed, and delivered.'"

"It shall be put in hand at once. When shall you be going out of town?"

"Not for ten days or a fortnight."

"The sooner the better. I do not like to see you look so pale and sad.

Excuse me if I presume in saying so. Well, I don't think your uncle ever did a wiser act than in destroying that will of his before he made another. The extraordinary instinct he had about money must have warned him that his precious fortune would be best bestowed on so prudent yet so generous a young lady as yourself."

"Don't praise me, Mr. Newton," said Katherine, sharply. "Could you see me as I see myself, you would know how little I deserve it."

"I am sure I should know nothing of the kind," returned the old lawyer, smiling. Katherine was a prime favorite with him--quite his ideal of a charming and admirable woman. All he hoped was that when the sharp edge of her grief had worn off she would mix in society and marry some highly placed man worthy of her, a Q.C., if one young enough could be found, who was on the direct road to the woolsack.

The evening of this day Bertie Payne came in, as he often did after dinner. Katherine was always pleased to see him. He brought a breath of genial life into the rather glacial atmosphere of Miss Payne's drawing-room. Yet there was something soothing to Katherine in the orderly quiet of the house, in the conviction, springing from she knew not what, that Miss Payne liked her heartily in her steady, undemonstrative fashion. She never interfered with Katherine in any way; she was ready to go with her when asked, or to let her young guest go on her own business alone and unquestioned, while she saw to her comfort, and proved much more companionable than Katherine expected.

On this particular evening which marked a new mental epoch for Katherine Liddell, the two companions were sitting by the fire in Miss Payne's comfortable though rather old-fashioned drawing-room, the curtains drawn, the hearth aglow, Miss Payne engaged on a large piece of patchwork which she had been employed upon for years, while Katherine read aloud to her. This was a favorite mode of pa.s.sing the evening; it saved the trouble of inventing conversation--for Miss Payne was not loquacious--and it was more sympathetic than reading to one's self. Miss Payne, it need scarcely be said, had no patience with novels; biography and travels were her favorite studies; nor did she disdain history, though given to be sceptical concerning accounts of what had happened long ago. She had never been so happy and comfortable with any of her _protegees_ as with Katherine, though, as she observed to her brother, she did not expect it to last. "Stay till she is a little known, and the mothers of marriageable sons get about her; then it will be the old thing over again--dress, drive, dance, hurry-scurry from morning till night. However, I'll make the most of the present."

Miss Payne, then, and her "favored guest" were cozily settled for the evening when Bertie entered.