Aylmer could estimate the importance of this choice, and talked, sadly enough, with Mrs. Ellicott and Geraldine of the evil influence that would be exercised on the fortunes and happiness of Kathleen and her boy.
He felt the task of speaking to John Torrance a difficult one, and at the first mention of his making a will to secure the rights of his wife and her baby, the husband showed signs of temper that augured ill for his success.
"So," said Mr. Torrance, "Kitty is counting her chances as a well-dowered widow. I hardly expected such a message from her, with you as messenger."
The tone was aggressive, and a sneering expression was on the speaker's face; but Aylmer would bear much for Kathleen's sake.
"You wrong your wife, Torrance," he said. "She has proved her disinterestedness. I, as her late guardian, think it right to place her position and the child's before you. Remember, you wished to settle the estates and part of the personalty upon her, but she persisted in executing the conveyance, and thus leaving herself wholly in your hands."
"Ah, yes, poor Kitty! She was deeply in love, and as trustful, generous, and blind, perhaps you would say, as love makes people."
"I say nothing of the kind. Only, as you wished to make a settlement before marriage, how could I imagine you unwilling to do so now? There are double claims; those of the wife, so nobly trustful, and the child, who ought to succeed to the heritage which was his mother's."
"You were a good friend too, Matheson. I do not forget. What would you have me do?"
"To make a will, leave Kenneth the estates, and, in accordance with Kathleen's express wish, make a provision for Ralph out of the personalty," replied Aylmer.
"A will may be destroyed by the testator."
"But honour would forbid that, if he pledged himself to certain conditions. Besides, Ralph would be cared for."
"Better than he deserves, for he has behaved ill to Kitty. He is safe, in any case."
"Therein lies the injustice. Without a will, you being now absolute owner of the estate, Ralph would take all but part of the personalty and that which the law would give to Kathleen," replied Aylmer, with some warmth.
"I must think the matter over. No need to hurry. The personalty is not what it was. Naturally, after being kept down so long, I wanted a little fling after I was married. I was rather extravagant."
"You are a few thousands poorer than—well—than you ought to be, I suppose," said Aylmer.
Mr. Torrance nodded. "Besides," he added, "I have been unlucky in some ventures lately."
Aylmer judged that the ventures were of the kind by which, says a wise writer, "men try to make money without effort, at the cost of other men." Only in such would John Torrance engage.
A promise "to think about it" was all Aylmer could obtain, and he returned home feeling far from happy.
Mr. Torrance thought, and became very angry. He was vexed at his "ill luck," that is, at the loss of what ought not to have been risked—not at himself for risking it. Then he grew angry at Kathleen, on account of Aylmer's intervention. He entered the room where she was sitting, and she instantly rose, holding up her boy to be kissed.
"See, John. I am sure he knows you. He is holding out his arms," she said.
Torrance did not speak, but pushed the child back, gently enough, but still in a manner that pained Kathleen deeply.
As she began, "Oh, John, do not push the darling from you in that way. What have I done? for it cannot be his fault if something has displeased you."
"Don't be absurd, Kathleen," he replied in an impatient tone. "When a man is worried about important things, he cannot be in the mood for admiring an infant prodigy, even though it happens to be his own."
He threw himself into a chair, and as Kathleen gazed at him in wonder, she was shocked at the expression on his face. She turned away, and rang for the nurse to take the child, then sat down, silent and indignant, as well she might be. Ever since her marriage she had fought hard against her naturally impetuous temperament, and had not been easily provoked. But the old quick nature¹ was still there, and at this moment ready to break into a flame again.
¹Unchanged by Divine grace
At first Kathleen resolved not to speak until John addressed her. Love for her husband was, however, stronger than temper, and at length she said—
"You tell me you are worried, John. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"You can let me alone," was the cold reply.
"But, John, surely I should know what troubles you. Are we not one?"
It had cost Kathleen an effort to speak gently, and she was ill-prepared for her husband's response.
"I thought so once, but, after what I have heard, I can hardly congratulate myself on the fact. It seems that you have already begun to calculate the chance of your being my widow, and free from the worthless encumbrance you now call husband."
"What do you mean?" said Kathleen, with flashing eyes.
"Ask yourself what errand you entrusted to Matheson."
"Do you mean about securing my property to your son and mine?"
"No. It was the request that I would make a will, and secure my property to our son. You forget, Kathleen, that by your deliberate act and deed you gave all you had absolutely to me. In that, you only followed the example of Ralph's mother. She gave me her all, yet she never reproached me, or reminded me of the fact."
"Neither have I," said Kathleen, angrily. "Until now."
"No. Matheson is a convenient cat's-paw, and he can plead most eloquently on behalf of his late ward. Adela would have died before she would have speculated on the chances of my death."
"How dare you speak to me in such a manner?" said Kathleen. "So long as I stood alone, I neither suggested your making a will nor asked a friend to do so. Even now it was Aylmer who, in his kind thought for my baby-boy, hinted at the wisdom of doing it. I care nothing for myself, but I do say that if you do not secure what was mine to our child, you will be guilty of cruel injustice to us both."
"Adela would not have—"
"Don't talk to me of Adela. Did not she trust you with everything, and how did you merit the trust? Did you care for the child she bore you, or did you waste his mother's fortune and the inheritance which came to you from your forefathers, until all was gone and—"
"Spare me a second hearing. The story is too familiar, and not pleasant. I made full confession to you."
"You did, and you promised—"
"Not to make a will, but I wanted a marriage settlement made, which you refused."
"Yes. I never thought that, as Adela left Ralph, I might have to answer for neglecting a child's interests. I ought to have read her story, and profited by it."
"Then on your shoulders be the blame, not mine. Come down from your stilts, and be reasonable. You will not drive me, though when angry you look so handsome that I bear the penalty for the sake of the picture, Kitty dear."
The jesting words stung Kathleen, but for her child's sake she forbore to retort.
"You did tell me all when you asked me to be your wife. You so spoke that I believed you hated the past, and that we should begin a pure, happy life together."
If John Torrance had not been in a perverse mood, harassed by losses and angry at himself, he would probably have been touched by Kathleen's pathetic tone and words. She was right, he knew; but he who is displeased with himself must vent his anger on some one else.
John Torrance did this by saying in a bantering the way, "By the way, Kitty, you spoke just now of my asking you to be my wife. You have forgotten the real facts attending our engagement, and I must correct your mistake, dear. I never did ask you to be my wife."
CHAPTER XXI THE FIRST QUARREL
WHEN Mr. Torrance's taunting words, "I never did ask you to be my wife," fell on Kathleen's ears, she was too much astonished to reply at once. Then in an angry tone, she said, "How dare you say so, John? I have not forgotten what passed the day Ralph first left his bedroom. Surely I need not remind you."
"It is you who need to be reminded, so listen."
With cruel deliberation, Mr. Torrance repeated his boy's passionate appeal to Kathleen to be his mother, and her annoyance at the trick, as she deemed it.
"Remember, Kitty, I refused to second Ralph's request for you to accept what you have, I fear, found to be a thankless position. Whilst the boy lay asleep, worn out with excitement, I made a confession of my unworthiness, and said I would not ask you to share my lot. Shall I go on?"
Kathleen's face was set and hard, but she said nothing.
"To my surprise and delight, you bestowed your sweet self upon me unasked save by Ralph, when I had expected a long and perhaps useless wooing. Never mind, dear, I was grateful for trouble saved, and, if I have not quite realized your ideal, we have been fairly happy. Now we will forget this little episode. Let us kiss and be friends."
He seized her hand, but Kathleen, beside herself with anger, threw her head back, exclaiming, "Do not come near me! I cannot bear this! What shall I do?"
"To get rid of me? You will hardly do that. You must be good, and ask to be forgiven," he said, laughing at her anger, and holding her as easily as a child.
A little girl once said of her father's guest, "I do not like him, because he laughs when he is angry."
When John Torrance gave way to ill-temper, one of its manifestations was mocking laughter, accompanied by taunting words softly spoken.
"So you will not be friends? Never mind. Man and wife quarrel only to make up their differences ere long. By the way, let me ask you if you have an idea that I found favour in Hetty Stapleton's eyes?"
"You gave me that impression."
"Fie, Kitty! You have maligned Hetty. I only told you she and I were friends once, and you replied that her friendship was worth keeping. Then I said something had happened which I could not speak of."
"I will now tell you the exact truth about Hetty Stapleton and myself, then you will perhaps, in future, be less inclined to regard your impressions as infallible, and be more careful in judging the intentions of other people. It is not always safe to judge them by their acts and words. To read a person's intentions requires more than human prescience, Kitty."
"I paid Miss Stapleton attentions which lookers-on attributed to a desire to make her my wife. They were not mistaken as to my intentions. I was not in love with Hetty, and had you been of age or nearly so at the time, I should never have looked in her direction. She is not at all handsome, but she is a person of great decision of character, and would, I am sure, have made me an excellent wife from a business point of view. I was in difficulties, and as Hetty's fortune was considerable and in her own hands, I thought to find a good way out of them by marrying her."
"I threw myself in her way as much as possible, and dangled after her for some time, during which, I am bound to confess, she gave me no encouragement. Then, in a desperate mood, I formally proposed to her, and was refused. I was also made to listen to certain home-truths from the lips of Miss Stapleton, which I have neither forgotten nor forgiven. Understand, Kitty, I should never have looked at Hetty, had you been old enough to be available. You were and are very beautiful, and you have other qualities which are far superior to hers and more attractive in my eyes."
"More money," said Kathleen, in a cold, hard voice.
"That was one thing, of course. It goes without saying that, in my position, the money was very important. But you had many attractions independently of that, and you were so charmingly kind and confiding, you know."
If he had thought to touch Kathleen by this last sneer, he failed in his object. For any sign of emotion she showed, she might have been turned into stone.
"Thank you," she said. "I am glad you have told me the truth at last. It will enable me to right a wrong that I did whilst labouring under a false impression."
"Better not stir up old grievances, Kitty. Let the dead past bury its dead. Now will you not kiss and be friends?"
He drew her towards him and kissed her, but as he touched her lips with his she shivered and shrank visibly.
"You promised to release me when I had heard the tale about Hetty Stapleton. May I ask you to keep your word?" said Kathleen.
"Certainly, dear."
Mr. Torrance released the hand he held, walked to the door and opened it for her to pass out.
She did so without bestowing a glance upon him, and went up to her own room. Five minutes later she left the house, and went straight to Oakwood, where she knew Miss Stapleton was staying.
Hetty was in, and when she saw Kathleen she met her kindly, but with a gravity very unlike the old cordial welcome.
"Hetty," said Kathleen, "I am here to tell you that I know all the truth as to your old acquaintance with Mr. Torrance. I hate myself as I look back on that day when I insulted you cruelly and grossly! I had formed a certain impression, and I now know that it was wrong in every respect. I have only myself to blame, for I had not been told, in so many words, what I asserted. I wish I could make amends to you."
"No harm followed, except that I was grieved at being misjudged by you. I am sure you came to me as soon as you knew the truth," said Hetty.
"You forgive me? I see you do," cried Kathleen.
"I never greatly blamed you, for I could understand how the impression was produced, and was sure you would repeat the story to none but me. Now you must forgive yourself."
"That is hardest of all," replied Kathleen. "Besides, I am punished in knowing that I misjudged a true friend."
"Then let us forget all about it."
The two parted with words of affection and feelings of renewed friendship, and as Kathleen walked homeward, she felt that one portion of her trouble had been removed. Still, the brightness seemed to have gone from her life. In her indignation and distress at Mr. Torrance's taunting words she would have gone to her aunt and Geraldine at Monk's How, had there been no child at Hollingsby. But the little hands drew her homeward, and the first relief came to her burdened heart as she clasped her boy in her arms, and her tears fell on his unconscious head, as he slept peacefully on her breast.
