The Red Rat's Daughter

  CHAPTER X

  How Browne got back to his hotel is a mystery to this day. He had aninsane desire to tell every one he met of his good fortune. He wantedto do something to make other people as happy as himself, and, for thereason that he could find no one else at the moment, had to be contentwith overtipping his cabman, and emptying all his spare change into thehands of a beggar in the Place Vendome. The afternoon was gray andcold; but never had the world seemed so fair to him, or so full ofsunshine. He told himself over and over again that he was the luckiestman on earth. He had already built himself several castles in the air,from the battlements of which the banner of Love was waving gaily.What a difference he would make in Katherine's life! She had been poorhitherto; now his wealth, the proper use of which he had never beforerealised, should be devoted to giving her everything that a woman coulddream of or desire. In his satisfaction with himself and the world ingeneral, he even forgot his usual dislike for Madame Bernstein. Was itnot due to her action, he asked himself, that the present happy stateof affairs had been brought about? In return he would show her that hewas grateful. As for the morrow, and the excursion to Fontainebleau,he would send his man at once to arrange for a special train, in orderthat they might run no risk of being disturbed or inconvenienced byother tourists. On second thoughts, however, he changed his mind. Hewould not do anything so absurd. He might be a _parvenu_, in a certainsense, but he did not want to prove himself one to her. No; they wouldgo down quietly, sensibly, and unostentatiously like other people.They would enjoy the outing all the more if they did not attractunnecessary attention. Then another idea struck him, and he acted uponit immediately. Putting on his hat once more, he left the hotel, andproceeded in the direction of a certain jeweller's shop. Havingentered it, he approached the counter, and asked for a plain gold ringof heavy pattern. He had at first been tempted to buy her one set withdiamonds and a bracelet to correspond--two articles that should be soperfect that even millionaires' wives should envy. That time, however,would come later on. At present all that was wanted was somethinggood, plain, and in perfect taste. He felt sure she would understandhis action, and think the better of him for it.

  Anticipating a large order from the wealthy young Englishman, whom herecognised immediately, the shopkeeper was a little disappointed. Buthe tried not to show it. With his precious purchase in his pocket, thehappy young man returned to his hotel to dress for the evening'sentertainment. Needless to say, he was the first to arrive at therendezvous, but it was not very long before Madame Bernstein andKatherine put in an appearance. Browne met them at the door andconducted them upstairs to the room he had reserved. If the dinner hehad given them in London had proved a success, this one was destined toprove much more so. Madame and Browne were in the highest spirits,while Katharine, though a little shy and reserved, had improvedconsiderably since the afternoon. Before they separated, arrangementswere completed for the morning's excursion. Browne, it was settled,was to call for Katherine in time to catch the early train, and, inreturn for the trust reposed in him, he pledged himself to return hersafely to her guardian before nine in the evening. Before he retiredto rest that night he opened the window of his bedroom and studied theheavens with an anxious face. A few clouds were to be seen away to thenorth-west, but elsewhere the stars were shining brightly. Takenaltogether, there seemed to be every reasonable chance of their havinga fine day for the excursion.

  But, alas! how futile are human hopes, for when he woke next morning agrievous disappointment was in store for him. Clouds covered the sky,and a thick drizzle was falling. A more miserable and dispiritingprelude to the day could scarcely be imagined. His disappointment wasintense; and yet, in a life that seemed as dead to him now as theNeolithic Period, he remembered that he had gone cub-hunting inEngland, had fished in Norway, and shot over his deer-forest in theHighlands in equally bad weather, and without a grumble or a protest.On the present occasion, however, everything was different; it seemedto him as if he had a personal grievance to settle with Dame Nature;and in this spirit he dressed, ate his breakfast, and finally set offin a cab for the Rue Jacquarie. Whether Katherine would go out or nothe could not say, but he half-expected she would decline. Havingpassed the _concierge_, he made his way upstairs to Madame Bernstein'ssitting-room. Neither of the ladies was there, but, after he hadwaited for a few minutes, Katherine put in an appearance, dressed in atight-fitting costume of some dark material which displayed her slenderfigure to perfection.

  "What a terrible day!" she said, as she glanced out of the window. "Doyou think we can go?"

  "I will leave it for you to decide," he answered. "If you consider ittoo wet we can easily put it off for another day."

  Something in his face must have told her how disappointed he would beif she refused. She accordingly took pity on him.

  "Let us go," she said. "I have no doubt it will clear up later on.Must we start at once?"

  "If we wish to catch the train we should leave here in about tenminutes at latest," he answered.

  She thereupon left the room, to return presently with a cup of steamingchocolate.

  "I made this for you myself," she said. "It will keep you warm. Whileyou are drinking it, if you will excuse me, I will go and get ready."

  When she returned they made their way to the cab, and in it set off forthe railway station. Rain was still falling as the train made its wayalong the beautiful valley of the Yeres, and it had not ceased whenthey had reached Melun. After that Dame Nature changed her mind, and,before they reached their destination, the clouds were drawing off, andlong streaks of blue sky were to be plainly observed all round thehorizon. They left the station in a flood of sunshine; and by the timethey had crossed the gravelled courtyard and approached the mainentrance to the palace, the sun was as warm and pleasant as on a springday.

  It would be difficult to over-estimate the pleasure Browne derived fromthat simple excursion. He had visited Fontainebleau many times before,but never had he thought it so beautiful or half so interesting as hedid on the present occasion. When she had overcome the first noveltyof her position, Katherine adapted herself to it with marvellouscelerity. Side by side they wandered through those rooms of manymemories, in the wake of the custodian, whom they could not persuade toallow them to pass through alone, even under the stimulus of a largegratuity. Passing through the apartments of Napoleon, of MarieAntoinette, of Francis the First, they speculated and mused over thecradle of the infant king of Rome, and the equally historic table uponwhich Napoleon signed his abdication.

  The wonders of the palace exhausted, they proceeded into the gardens,visited and fed the famous carp, tested the merits of the labyrinth,and marvelled at the vineries. Finally they returned to the village insearch of luncheon. The afternoon was devoted to exploring the forest,and when dusk had descended they dined at the Hotel de France etd'Angleterre, and afterwards returned to Paris. It was during thehomeward journey, that Browne found occasion to carry out a littlescheme, of which he had been thinking all day. Taking from his pocketthe ring he had purchased on the previous evening, he securedKatherine's hand and slipped it on her slender finger.

  "The symbol of my love, darling," he said softly. "As this littlecirclet of gold surrounds your finger, so my love will encompass you onevery side throughout your life. Wear it in remembrance of my words."

  Her heart being too full to answer him, she could only press his hand,and leave it to him to understand.

  Faithful to his promise, he delivered Katherine into the keeping of herguardian before nine o'clock. Both declared that they had had adelightful day, and Madame Bernstein expressed her joy at hearing it.It seemed to Browne, however, that there was an air of suppressedexcitement about her on this particular evening which he could notunderstand. When he bade them good-bye he returned to his hotel,feeling that he had come to the end of the happiest day of all his life.

  Next morning he was standing in the hall preparatory to going out, whenhis s
ervant approached him and handed him a note. One glance at theaddress was sufficient to tell him from whom it came. He had only seenthe handwriting once before, but every letter had been engraved uponhis heart. He tore it open, delighted at receiving it, yet wonderingat her reason for communicating with him.

  "Dear love," it began, "when you asked me the other day to be yourwife, I tried so hard to make you see that what you wished was quiteimpossible. Yesterday we were so happy together; and now I have hadsome news which makes me see, even more clearly than I did then, that Ihave no right to let you link your life with mine. Hard as it is forme to have to say it, I have no choice left but to do so. You mustforget me; and, if you can, forgive me. But remember always thispromise that I give you: if I cannot marry you, no other man shall evercall me wife.--KATHERINE PETROVITCH."

  Browne stood for some moments, like a man dazed, in the hall among thecrowd of happy tourists, holding the letter in his hand, and staringstraight before him. His whole being seemed numbed and dead. He couldnot understand it; he could not even realise that she was attempting toput herself out of his life for ever.

  "There must be some mistake," he whispered to himself; and then added:"She admits that she loves me, and yet she wants to give me up. I willnot allow myself to think that it can be true. I must go to her atonce, and see her, and hear it from her own lips before I will believe."

  He thereupon went out into the street, called a cab, and set off forthe Rue Jacquarie.