Cousin Kate

with her for far too long a time—much longer than I had anticipated. I know what a charge I must have been, though she was very angry when I ventured to say so, and told me that if I dared to offer her money for my board she would never forgive me. So I can’t go back to her until I’ve secured a post. When I left Wisbech I thought I should have been able to do so immediately, but—but it turned out otherwise. None of the ladies who were advertising for governesses hired me. Either they wanted an accomplished female, able to instruct her pupils in the harp, and the piano, and the Italian tongue, or they said I was too young. It was the most mortifying experience! I became utterly despondent, and began to wonder whether I might not be able to turn the only talent I possess to good’account.”

’And what is your only talent?” he asked.

’Oh, dressmaking! I did think of seeking a post as abigail to a lady of fashion, but Sarah wouldn’t hear of it. She said it wouldn’t do for me—”

“She was right!”

“Yes, I think perhaps she was: I can’t imagine when a modish abigail finds the time to go to bed! So then I hit upon the idea of seeking employment in a dressmaker’s establishment, but Mr Nidd was strongly opposed to it.”

“I said he was a downy one,” observed Philip.

“Yes, but I still think I might try my hand at it, if all else fails. He says that unless one can afford to set up for oneself, or at .least to buy a share in a flourishing business, there is no possibility of making one’s fortune in the dressmaking line.”

“None at all, I imagine.”

“You can’t tell that!” she objected. “For my part, I shouldn’t wonder at it if you are both wrong. Consider! Even if I had to serve an apprenticeship in the workroom, and subsist for a time on a pittance, I should be bound to rise rapidly to a more elevated position, because I can do more than sew: I can design! I truly can, sir! I have been used to make all my own dresses, and no one has yet called me a dowd! On the contrary ! Mrs Astley’s odious mother said that she marvelled at my extravagance, and would like to know where I found the money to purchase such expensive gowns!” She chuckled. “And the joke was that when she said that, I was wearing a coloured muslin dress which cost exactly eighteen shillings! It was perfectly plain except for a knot of ribbons at the waist, but of excellent cut and style, which, of course, was what misled her. I don’t mean to boast, but doesn’t that show you?”

“I should have to see the garment before I ventured to give my opinion,” he said, his countenance grave, but his voice a trifle unsteady.

She burst out laughing. “What a shocking Banbury man you are, sir! How dare you poke fun at me? Did I sound like a bounce?”

He shook his head gloomily. “Every feeling was offended!” he assured her.

She laughed more than ever, but said: “Seriously, sir—”

“Seriously, Kate, Mr Nidd is right: it won’t fadge!”

She sighed. “Perhaps it might not. Lately I have been wondering if I could not obtain a situation with an old lady. I daresay you know the sort of thing I mean: as companion, or housekeeper, or even the two combined. It would be dreadfully dull, I expect, but at least Sarah wouldn’t kick up a dust, and say it wasn’t a genteel occupation.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t consider being a companion-housekeeper to a gentleman?” he suggested.

“I shouldn’t think so. Sarah would think it most improper, and it would be, you know. Unless he was a very old gentleman. Why, do you know of a gentleman who wants a companion- housekeeper?”

“As it chances, I do. But not a very old one, I’m afraid! I mean he isn’t bedridden, or queer in his attic, or anything of that nature. Not a dotard?

“I certainly shouldn’t consider such a post in a dotard’s house!” she said, amused. “In fact, unless I were offered a handsome wage, which, I own, would tempt me, I don’t mean to consider it at all! An old lady is the thing for me!”

“You cannot have given enough thought to it, Kate! Old ladies are always as cross as crabs!”

“What nonsense!” she said scornfully. “I have known several who were most amiable! And no female is commonly afflicted with gout, which most old gentlemen are, I find. It makes them insupportably cross!”

“The gentleman I have in mind is not afflicted with gout, and I am persuaded you would find him amiable, and—and compliant.”

“Indeed?” said Kate, stiffening. “And how old is this gentleman, sir?”

“Nine-and-twenty. But very nearly thirty!” he replied.

Since she knew this to be his own age, she could not doubt that he meant himself, and was making her an offer. But what kind of an offer it was remained a matter of painful doubt. He knew her to be friendless and penniless, and it was possible that he was offering her a carte blanche, meaning to set her up as his mistress; it seemed very unlikely that he wished to marry her, for (as she dismally reminded herself) she had nothing but a pretty face to recommend her. She felt suddenly that if that was what he meant it would be more than she could bear; and realized that it would be one more illusion shattered. She had not allowed herself to hope that he would offer marriage, for she knew herself to be ineligible; she was not even sure that he loved her. He had certainly revised his first, unfavourable estimate of her character; and when he looked at her she could fancy there was a warm, appreciative light in his eyes. But he was not a man who wore his heart on his sleeve: indeed, if it was possible to detect a fault in him, thought Kate, sternly resolved to do so, he had too much reserve. Not, of course, a stupid sort of indifference, but a coolness of manner, which made it hard to know what he was thinking.

Doggedly determined not to betray herself, she said, in a light voice, which she hoped expressed contemptuous amusement: “I won’t pretend to play the dunce, sir. I assume that you are talking about yourself. I don’t find it diverting!”

“I was talking about myself, and I am extremely glad you don’t find it diverting!” he said, with some asperity.

Her heart began to beat uncomfortably fast, and she could feel the colour mounting into her cheeks. She turned her face away, saying: “This is quite improper, sir! I told my aunt that you showed no disposition to flirt with me, and I believed it!”

“So I should hope! For God’s sake, Kate!—I’m not fluting with you! I’m trying to tell you that I love you!”

“Oh!” uttered Kate faintly.

Mr Philip Broome, indignant at being given so little encouragement, said in a goaded voice: “Now say you’re much obliged to me!”

“I don’t know that I am,” responded Kate, almost inaudibly. “I—I don’t know what you mean!”

With all the air of a deeply reticent man forced to declare his sentiments, he said: “Exactly what I said! I LOVE YOU!”

“You needn’t shout! I’m not deaf!” retorted Kate, with spirit.

“I was afraid you might be! I could hardly have put it more plainly! And all you can say is Oh! As though it was a matter of no consequence to you! If you feel that you can’t return my—my regard, tell me so! I’ve dared to hope, but I was prepared to have my offer rejected, and although it would be a severe blow, I trust I have enough conduct not to embarrass you by persisting!”

“You—you haven’t made me an offer!” said Kate. She added hurriedly, and in considerable confusion: “I don’t in the least wish you to! I mean, I would far, far liefer you didn’t if you are trying to—Oh, dear, how very awkward this is! Mr Broome, pray don’t offer me a carte blanche!”

“A carte blanche?” he exclaimed, apparently stunned.

By this time she was crimson-cheeked. She stammered: “Is—isn’t that the right term?”

“No, it is not the right term!” he said savagely, drawing his horses in to the side of the lane, and pulling them to a halt. “What kind of a loose-screw do you take me for? Offer a carte blanche to a delicately bred girl in your circumstances? You must think I’m an ugly customer!”

“Oh, no, no! Indeed I don’t!”

He possesed himself of her hands, and held them in a hard grip. “I am proposing to you, Kate! Will you marry