CHAPTER XXVI.

COLONEL AND MRS. ORMONDE.

The moral effect of feeling in touch with some loyal, tender, sympathizing fellow-creature is immense.  It gives faith in one’s self—­a belief in the possibilities for good hidden in the future; above all, relief from that most paralyzing of mental conditions, a sense of isolation.

Katherine walked back alone in the dark.  The sooner she accustomed herself to habits of independence the better; for the future she must learn to stand alone, to take care of herself, unassisted by maid or flunky.  It made her a little nervous; for although in the old impecunious days she went on all necessary errands in the morning alone, she rarely left the house after sundown even with a companion.  They were very monotonous days, those which seemed to have fled away so far into the soft misty gloom of the past.  Yet how full of fragrance was their memory!  The castle-building, the vague bright hopes, the joy of helping the dear mother, the utter absolute trust in her, the struggle with the necessities of life—­all were more or less sweet; and now to what an end she had brought the simple drama of her youth!  Had she resisted that strange prompting which kept her silent when Mr. Newton began to look for the will, how different everything might have been!  Errington might be well off too, and she might never have seen him.

With the thought of him came the sudden overpowering wish to hear his voice—­clear, deliberate, convincing—­which sometimes seized her in spite of every effort to banish it from her mind, and of which she was utterly, profoundly ashamed, the recurrence of which was infinitely painful.  She must fill her heart with other thoughts, other objects.  “Life is serious enough (the life which lies before me especially) to crowd out these follies.  Why do I increase its gloom with imaginary troubles?”

Miss Payne, returning from her dinner, found Katherine sitting up for her, apparently occupied with a book, and in the little confidential talk which ensued Katherine told her of Rachel Trant’s intention of consulting Mr. Newton respecting her plans for increasing her business with a view to assisting her benefactress.

Miss Payne received this communication in silence; but after a moment’s thought observed, in a grave, approving tone; “You have not been deceived in her, then.  I really believe Rachel Trant is a young woman of principle and integrity.”

“Yes, I have always thought so.”  Then, after a pause, she resumed:  “I wonder what reply I shall have from Ada to-morrow—­no, the day after to-morrow.”

“Do not worry yourself about it.  She will make herself disagreeable, of course; but it is just a trouble to be got through with.  Go to bed, my dear; try to sleep and to forget.  You are looking fagged and worn.”

But Katherine could not help dwelling upon the picture her imagination presented of the morrow’s breakfast-time at Castleford; of the dismay with which her letter would be read; of Ada’s tears and Colonel Ormonde’s rage; of the torrent of advice which would be poured upon her.  Then what decision would Colonel Ormonde come to about the boys?  He would banish them to some cheap out-of-the-way school.  It was impossible to say what he would do.