LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

doubt the coffee’s hot,” she said, as a waiter, who had just brought it in, was filling the tiny cups.

      “It’s steaming,” said Lady Hamilton, gaily, and Patty saw at once that whatever it was that made her new friend sorrowful, it was not the grumbling tones of Mrs. Betham.

      “It’s quite too hot, Julia,” she went on; “unless you’re careful, you’ll steam your throat.”

      “Not I,” growled Mrs. Betham. “I’m not such a stupid as that. But I must say I like my coffee at a table like a Christian, and not setting my cup in my lap, or holding it up in the air.”

      “Dear me, Julia,” said Lady Hamilton, with great solicitude expressed on her face; “dear me, your gout must be very bad to-night. It makes you quite cross. Poor dear!”

      Mrs. Betham sniffed at this, but a grim smile came into her eyes, and Patty concluded she was not quite so grumpy as she seemed.

      After the coffee was finished, and the tray taken away, Mrs. Betham excused herself and went off to her own room.

      “The way it began,” said Lady Hamilton, as if to explain her interest in Patty, “was one day when I went through the corridors and passed your drawing-room, and the door was a little mite ajar, and I heard you singing. I am very fond of just that high, sweet kind of voice that you have, and I paused a few moments to listen to you. Then afterward I saw you in the dining-room two or three times at luncheon or dinner, and I took a fancy to know you, for I felt sure I should like you. Do you mind coming to see me once in a while, my dear? I am very lonely.”

      “Mind! No, indeed!” cried Patty, impetuously throwing her arms around her new friend. “I loved you the first time I ever saw you. But why do you say you are lonely? You, a great lady.”

      “I will tell you my story in a few words,” said Lady Hamilton. “For I suppose you would hear it from others, and I would rather tell it you myself. I am the daughter of Sir Otho Markleham. Of course, if you were a Londoner, you would know all this, but as you’re not, I’ll tell you. Well, I am Sir Otho’s only daughter, and four years ago, when I was just eighteen, I ran away from home and married Lord Cecil Hamilton. He was a good man, but he had quarrelled with my father on a point of politics, and my father disapproved of the match. He disowned me as his daughter, though he said he would always continue the allowance I had had as a girl. I was glad of this, not only because Lord Hamilton, though a man of good fortune, was not a wealthy man, but also because it seemed to show my father had not entirely cast me off. But he forbade us to go to his house, and we went to Paris and lived there for a year. After one year of happy married life Cecil died, and since then my only aim in life has been to be reconciled to my father. But he will not have it, or at least he won’t have it unless I make the first overtures toward peace.”

      “And won’t you?” cried Patty, in astonishment.

      “Not I! I am not to blame. The two men quarrelled, and now that Cecil is gone, why should my father hold the feud against me? It is not my place to ask his pardon; I’ve done nothing wrong.”

      “You ran away from home,” said Patty, thinking only of the justice of the case, and quite forgetting that she was seeming to censure a titled English lady.

      “Yes, but that was not wrong. Father knew that Cecil was a fine, honourable man, of an old family. He had no right to forbid my marriage because of a foolish personal disagreement.”

      “Your mother?” said Patty.

      “My mother died when I was a child,” said Lady Hamilton, and at once Patty felt a new bond of companionship.

      “I lived alone with my father, in our great house in London, and I had a happy and uneventful life, until Cecil came. Since his death, I’ve longed so to go home to my father, and be at peace with him, but though many kind friends have tried to bring about a reconciliation, they haven’t been able to do so.”

      “And so you live here alone at the Savoy?”

      “Yes, with Mrs. Betham, who is really an old dear, though sometimes she grumbles terribly.”

      “And do you go into society?”

      “I’ve begun to go a little, of late. Cecil made me promise I’d never wear black dresses, so I’ve worn white only, ever since he died, and I suppose I always shall. That is, in the house. I have black street gowns. But I can’t seem to care for gay parties as I used to. I want father, and I want my home.”

      “Is your father in London?”

      “Oh, yes; he’s a Member of Parliament. But he’s of a stubborn and unyielding nature.”

      “And so are you?”

      “And so am I. Now, let’s drop the subject of myself for the present, while you sing for me. Will you?”

      “Yes, indeed,” said Patty, warmly; “with more pleasure than I ever sang for any one else.”

      CHAPTER IV

      A FLORAL OFFERING

      As the days went by, Patty and Lady Hamilton became close friends. Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield approved of the intimacy, for the elder woman’s influence was in every way good for Patty, and in return the girl brought sunshine and happiness into Lady Hamilton’s life.

      They went together to concerts and picture exhibitions, but Patty could rarely persuade her friend to go to a social affair.

      “It’s absurd, Lady Hamilton,” said Patty, one day, “to shut yourself up as you do! All London wants you, and yet you won’t go ’round and play pretty with them.”

      Ignoring this outburst, Lady Hamilton only smiled, and said: “Do you know, Patty, I think it’s time you dropped my formal title, and called me by my first name. I’d love to have you do so.”

      “I’ve often wondered what your first name is, but I haven’t the slightest idea. Tell me.”

      “No, guess. What name do you think suits me?”

      Patty considered.

      “Well,” she said, at last, “I think it must be either Ethelfrida or Gwendolyn Gladys.”

      Lady Hamilton laughed merrily. “Prepare yourself for a sudden shock,” she said. “I was named for my grandmother, Catharine.”

      “Catharine! What an absurd name for you! You’re not even a Kate. But you are Lady Kitty, and I’ll call you that, if I may.”

      “Indeed you may. Father used to call me Kitty, when I was a child, but as I grew older, I preferred my full name.”

      “Lady Kitty is just right for you, and when you’re in the mood you’re a saucy puss. Now, listen, the reason for my invasion of your premises this morning is that I want you to go with me this afternoon to a tea on the Terrace of Parliament House.”

      Patty’s tones were very persuasive, and she looked so daintily attractive in her fresh morning gown that few could have refused any request she might make.

      Lady Hamilton in a soft, frilly white négligée, was sipping her coffee and looking over her letters when Patty had interrupted the process. She looked at her eager young guest with a slow, provoking smile, and said only:

      “Nixy.”

      “But why not?” said Patty, smiling too, for she knew the Englishwoman had learned the slangy word from herself. “You’d have a lovely time. It’s so beautiful there, and the people are always so cordial and pleasant.”

      “But I don’t want to go.”

      “But you ought to want to. You’re too young to give up the pomps and vanities of this world. How can I make you go?”

      “You can’t.”

      “I know it! That’s just the trouble with you. I never saw such a stubborn, self-willed, determined–”

      “Pigheaded?”

      “Yes! and stupidly obstinate thing as you are! So, there now!”

      They

Скачать книгу