CHAPTER XXI.
WITH CATHERINE IN THE ROSE BOWER.
Mrs. Meadowsweet was not the least like Mrs. Bell. She was notconstantly on the watch for lovers for her only daughter. She wasnaturally such a contented and easy-going woman that she never troubledherself to look far ahead. The time being was always more or lesssufficient to her. No two people could be snugger or more absolutelycomfortable together than she and her Bee. It was no use thereforeworrying her head about the possible contingency that the girl mightmarry and leave her.
Mrs. Meadowsweet, as she walked about her old-fashioned garden on thatsummer's morning was not at all put about by the fact that her prettydaughter was having a solemn conference in the drawing-room with thehandsomest and most elegant young man of their acquaintance. She was notcurious nor anxious, nor perturbed in any way. She pottered round herplants, pulling up a weed here, and removing a withered bud there, inthe most comfortable fashion, and only once she made a remark to herselfwith regard to the occupants of the drawing-room. This was her soleallusion to them.
"I hope that young man won't forget to take the box of Eleazer'ssLife-pills to his mother. I left it handy on the hall table, and I hopehe'll remember to slip it into his pocket."
Presently Mrs. Meadowsweet re-entered the house. There she noticed twothings. The drawing-room was empty, and the box of pills lay untouchedon the hall table.
She sighed a little over this latter circumstance, but reflecting thatshe could send Jane with them in the evening she went slowly up to herbedroom and busied herself putting on her afternoon gown, which was of alarge check pattern, the coloring being different shades in terra-cotta.
Arrayed thus she came down to dinner, and then for the first time shewas really startled by perceiving that Beatrice's place was empty. Janeimmediately explained her young mistress's absence.
"Miss Bee has a headache and is lying down, ma'am. I'm to take her a cupof tea presently, but she doesn't want any dinner."
"Dear, dear," ejaculated Mrs. Meadowsweet.
"And the peas are lovely and tender to-day, and so for that matter isthe chicken. What a pity! Jane, you tell Miss Bee that if she has aheadache she had better take two of my pills immediately after she hashad her tea. You'll find them in the bottle on my dressing-table, Jane,and you had better take her up some raspberry jam to swallow them in."
Jane promised obedience, and Mrs. Meadowsweet ate her green peas andtender, young chicken in great contentment.
In the course of the afternoon Beatrice came downstairs again. She toldher mother that her headache was quite gone, but the old lady was acuteenough to observe a great change in the girl. She did not look ill, butthe brightness had gone out of her face.
"Is anything wrong, dearie?" she asked. "Has any one been worrying you,my treasure?"
"I have got to think about something," replied Beatrice. "And I am justa very little upset. I am going into the garden with a book, and youwon't mind if I don't talk to you, mother dear?"
"Of course not, my pet. What is an old mother good for, but to humor herchild? Go you into the garden, Trixie, and no one shall fret or molestyou, I'll see to that."
Beatrice kissed her mother, and book in hand went to the rose-bower, asecluded spot where no one could see her or take her unawares. Mrs.Meadowsweet sat upright in her chair, took out her knitting-bag, andproceeded to add a few stitches to Beatrice's quilt.
Presently there came a quick and somewhat nervous ring to the door-bell.Mrs. Meadowsweet often said that there were rings and rings. This ringmade her give a little start, and took away the sleepiness which wasstealing over her.
The next moment Catherine Bertram entered the room. Her eyes wereglowing, and her face, usually rather pale, was effused with a finecolor. She looked eager and expectant.
Mrs. Meadowsweet stretched out her two hands to her, and gave her a fewwarm words of welcome. The impulsive girl stooped down, and kissed theold lady on the forehead.
"You're just the person I'm glad to see, my dear," said Mrs.Meadowsweet. "You'll take your mother back her pills. Poor dear, shemust have thought I had forgotten all about her."
"I have come to see Beatrice," said Catherine. "It is important. Can Isee her?"
"Well, my love, Bee is not quite herself. She is worried aboutsomething; I don't know what for it's my aim in life to make her lotsmooth as velvet. She's in the garden with a book, and I said sheshouldn't be disturbed. But you, my dear----"
"I must see Beatrice," repeated Catherine. "It's important. I've comehere on purpose."
"Well, my love, you and Bee are always great friends. You haven't aworrying way with you. She's in the rose-arbor. You can find her, child.You walk straight down that path, and then turn to your left."
Catherine did not wait another instant. She had the quick and gracefulmotions of a young fawn, and when she reached Beatrice her eager facewas so full of light and excitement that the other girl sprang to herfeet, her unopened book tumbled to the floor, and in one moment the twofriends had their arms round each other.
They did not kiss. This was not the moment for outward expressions ofaffection. They looked at one another, then Catherine said:
"Well, Beatrice?" and, taking her friend's hand, she sat down by her.
"You know what happened this morning, Catherine?" said Beatrice, lookingat her sadly.
"Yes, I know. I have come about that. Loftus came home, and he toldmother. I heard him talking to her, and I heard mother crying; I cameinto the room then, for I cannot bear the sound of my mother's sobs whenshe is in distress, and she at once looked up when she heard nay step,and she said:
"'It is all hopeless, Catherine; Beatrice Meadowsweet will not marryLoftus.'
"'Nay, mother,' interrupted Loftus, 'there's a chance for me, she hasconsented to see me again to-morrow.'
"I flew up to mother when Loftus had done speaking, and I knelt by herand looked into her face and said, 'You make my heart beat so hard, Inever, never thought of this.' Mother went on moaning to herself. Shedid not seem to care about me nor to notice that I was with her.
"'It was my last hope,' she said; 'the only chance to avert the trouble,and it is over.'
"She went on saying that until I really thought she was almostlight-headed. At last Loftus beckoned me out of the room.
"'What is it, Loftus, what is wrong?" I asked.
"'Poor mother,' he replied; 'she loves Beatrice, and she had set herheart on this. Her nerves are a good deal shaken lately. Poor mother!she has had a more troubled life than you can guess about, Catherine.'
"'Loftie,' I answered, 'I have long guessed, I have long feared.'
"'If I could win Beatrice,' said Loftus, 'my mother should never haveanother ache nor pain.'
"Then he went back into mother's room, and I stayed outside and thought.After a time I resolved to come to you. No one knows that I am here."
"What have you come for, Catherine?" asked Beatrice.
"I have come to know what you mean to do. When you see Loftus to-morrowwhat will you say to him?"
"What would you say, Catherine? If you did not love a man at all, if hewas absolutely nothing to you, would you give yourself to him? Yourself?That means all your life, all your days, your young days, yourmiddle-aged years, your old age, always, till death parts you. Would youdo that, Catherine? Speak for yourself; would you?"
"How old are you, Beatrice?" asked Catherine.
"I am nineteen; never mind my age, that has nothing whatever to say tothe question I want you to answer."
"I asked you about your age on purpose--because I can't answer yourquestion. You are nineteen, I am seventeen. I feel like a child still; Idon't understand anything about loving people as you talk of love; but Icould be kind, and if it lay in my power to keep hearts from breaking Ithink I'd be very glad to do it, and then Loftie _is_ nice, Bee."
Beatrice sighed. For the first time there was a gulf between her andCatherine. As an intelligent and intellectual companion, as anaffectionate friend,
Catherine was perfect; but in matters pertaining tolove--that great mystery which comes into most lives--her unawakenedheart was as a blank.
"You ask a great deal," said Beatrice, rising to her feet withirritation. "For some reason, I don't know what, I am of value to youand yours. I am not in your rank of life, still you want me. Your motheris troubled, and in some inexplicable way I, an ignorant and uninformedcountry girl, can relieve her. This is all very fine for you, but whatabout me? I sacrifice myself forever to give temporary relief.Catherine, you must tell me the truth. Why do you want me? Is it becauseof my money?"
"Have you money?" asked Catherine. Her big, innocent, honest eyes lookedfull at her friend, their expression showed bewilderment. When shelooked at her in this way Beatrice suddenly burst into a fit oflaughter. Then she put her arms round Catherine and kissed her two orthree times.
"Kate, you are the sweetest girl I ever met in all my life. You aregood, you are innocent. Kitty, I would do much for you."
"And Loftus is very kind," repeated Catherine; "and he's handsome, too.He often told me that girls fell in love with him."
Beatrice patted Catherine's cheek.
"Little puss!" she said, "he ought not to breathe such words in yourinnocent ears. So it is not for my money your mother and Loftus want meso badly, Kitty."
"I never heard either of them breathe the subject of your money. Haveyou any?"
"Yes, some."
"That would be nice, for somehow lately we seem to be dreadfully poor."
"If I were turned into a grand and patrician Bertram, and made into yoursister, sweet little Kitty, you shouldn't be poor. I'd see to that. I'ddress you and pet you, and lade you with gifts."
"Beatrice, how bright your eyes are."
"Yes, I am excited when I think of the possible benefit I may be toyou."
"I only want you to be my sister, and to make my mother and Loftushappy. My mother has a hidden trouble about which I must not speak; andfor some reason which I cannot in the least understand, if you marryLoftus that trouble will disappear."
"And you want it to disappear?"
"I would give all I possess to make my mother happy."
"Good, dear, little Kitty! You don't incline then to the belief thatyour brother wants me for the guineas' worth!"
"Beatrice, I don't think Loftus is really sordid and he loves you. Oh,how earnestly he told me that he loved you. And my mother, she often,often talks of you, and I know she cares for you, Bee."
"Come into the house," said Beatrice, suddenly. "Now that you have comeyou must spend the evening with me. We can send a messenger to the Manorto tell them, and after tea you and I will go on the water. We'll have ahappy evening together, Kate, and we won't talk any more about Loftus,no, not another word. If I do a thing I do it generously, but I will notdiscuss the _pros_ and _cons_ even with, you any more."