downstairs to join Miss Payne at tea, the anxious, nervous, alarmed
expression of her eyes had changed to one of gloomy composure.
"Though I do not care to stay with Ada, I want to go to town to-morrow
for a little shopping, and to see Mr. Newton if I can. I will take the
quick train at half-past eight and return in the evening. You might send
to meet the nine o'clock express. Should anything occur to keep me, I
will telegraph."
"Very well"--Miss Payne's usual reply to Katherine's propositions. "But
are you quite sure you feel equal to the journey?"
"Yes, quite equal," returned Katherine, with a short deep sigh. "I
believe it will do me good."
That Errington had been stunned by the blow which had fallen so suddenly
upon him cannot be disputed. His first and bitterest concern was dread
lest the character of his father's house, which had always stood so
high, lest the honor of his own name, should suffer the smallest
tarnish. It was this that made him so eager to ascertain the full
liabilities of the firm, so ready to sacrifice all he possessed so that
no one save himself should be the loser. "If I accepted a handsome
fortune from transactions over which I exercised no supervision, I must
hold myself doubly responsible for the result," he argued, and at once
set to work to turn all he possessed into money.
In truth the prospect of poverty did not dismay him.
His tastes were very simple. It was the loss of power and position,
which wealth always bestows, which he would feel most, and the necessity
of renouncing Lady Alice.
This was imperative. Yet it surprised him to perceive how little he felt
the prospect of parting with her on his own account. Indeed he was
rather ashamed of his indifference. It was for Lady Alice he felt. It
would be such a terrible disappointment--not that Errington had much
personal vanity. He hoped and thought Lady Alice Mordaunt liked him in a
calm and reasonable manner, which is the best guarantee for married
happiness. But it was the loss of a tranquil home, a luxurious life, an
escape from the genteel poverty of a deeply embarrassed earl's daughter
to the ease and comfort of a rich man's wife, that he deplored for her.
Poor helpless child! she would probably find a rich husband ere long who
would give her all possible luxuries, for a noble's daughter of high
degree is generally a marketable article. But he, Miles Errington, would
have been kind and patient. Would that other poss
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