“But he does not; he never shall!” exclaimed Errington, with animation, drawing unconsciously nearer. “That is a secret between you and me. None shall ever know our secret. All I ask is that you will forgive me for my unfortunate precipitancy in destroying the means of saving you, which you had placed in my hands—that you will forgive me, and let me be your friend. It is so painful to see you shrink from me as you do.”
“Can you wonder, guilty as I feel myself to be? But if you so far overlook my evil deeds as to think me worth your friendship, I am glad and grateful to accept it. As to forgiveness, what have I to forgive?—your haste to save me from the possibility of discovery?”
“Then,” said Errington, who had gazed for a moment in silence on his companion, whose face was slightly turned from him, every line of her pliant figure, from the graceful drooping head to the point of her shoe peeping from under her soft gray dress, expressed a sort of pathetic humility, “will you give me some idea of your plans, if you have any?”
“They are very vague. I have a small income apart from my uncle’s property. I earnestly hope it will be enough to educate the boys. Then I must try to find employment—something that will enable me to provide for myself. Miss Payne is already looking out for me. That is all I can think of.”
“It is a tremendous undertaking for a young girl like you,” said Errington, looking down in deep thought. “But I think I understand that the cruelest trial of all would be to part with the boys. Still it is not wise to allow Mrs. Ormonde to thrust her sons on you, though I never can believe that Ormonde could act so dastardly a part as to refuse to do his part in maintaining them. There, again, the fear of what society would say will do more than a sense of justice or honor. I don’t believe Ormonde will dare refuse to contribute his quota to the support of his wife’s sons.”
“Perhaps not. I wish I could do without it. But though Ada was harsh and unreasonable to-day, I am sorry for her. It must be dreadful to be tied to a man who looks on you as a burden.”
“She will manage him. Their natures are admirably suited. Neither is too exalted. And Mrs. Ormonde has established herself very firmly as mistress of Castleford and the Colonel.”
“I hope so.” There was a short silence. Then Errington said, in a low tone, looking kindly into her face, “I trust you do not feel too despondent as regards the future.”
“Far from it,” returned Katherine, with a brief bright smile. “If only I can bring up my dear boys without too great privations, and fit them to work their way in life! From my short experience I should say that riches can buy little true happiness. Extreme poverty is terrible and degrading. Nor can money alone confer any true joys.”
“So I have found,” said Errington, thoughtfully; “and I can see that to you too the finery and distractions which wealth gathers together are mere dust heaps.”