He said very little after that, and when he left her he made no attempt to kiss her good-night. But whether this was out of consideration for her or because he was quite obviously thinking deeply about something else, she was not quite sure.
The next day,
Saturday, meant only half a day at the store. But it was a busy and trying half day. In addition, Aileen chose to make herself so impossibly offensive that Katherine decided she must either speak to her about it or forever lose any authority where she was concerned.
Consequently, at the end of the morning she called her into the office and said crisply, “I take it from your manner that you don’t like working under me, Miss Lester. Frankly, I’m not getting much satisfaction from the arrangement, either. Don’t you think you would be wiser to ask for a transfer to another department?”
“No,” was the flat reply, delivered in a tone that suggested that the girl considered she had the upper hand.
“Then I’m afraid,” said Katherine quietly, “that unless there is a marked improvement, I shall ask to have you transferred.”
“I wouldn’t, you know, if I were you.” Aileen insolently buffered the nails of one well-manicured hand against the ball of the other, as though that were more important than anything Katherine was saying. “If you try to bring things to a showdown, you may trigger off far more than you expect.”
“Aren’t you making rather heavy weather of this?” Katherine
spoke coldly. “The usual procedure with an unsatisfactory employee is to give her a chance somewhere else. If she still remains unsatisfactory—she goes. I imagine that’s what will happen with you.”
If she intended to sting the other girl, she certainly succeeded. Aileen Lester’s pale face flushed and her eyes narrowed.
“If you take that high hand with me—or try to persuade Paul to do so—you’ll find the whole position much more disagreeably defined than you think,” she said angrily.
Katherine took down her coat from the wall and slipped it on, opened a drawer and took out her handbag and gloves as unhurriedly as she could. Then she faced the other girl firmly.
“There is only one position that requires defining,” she stated dryly. “And that’s the position between you and me. I’m sorry we have to do it, but you force me to. Either you work better and behave more politely where I’m concerned, or you leave this department. It’s as simple as that. And no number of veiled threats will affect me. Think that over during the weekend, and let me know your decision on Monday morning.”
And on these words Katherine went out of the room, leaving the other girl to stare balefully after her.
It was a pity to have had to bring things to such an
outspoken pass, she knew, and she felt irritatedly that somehow she should have managed to avoid it. But the fact was that Aileen Lester’s behavior was outside the bounds of any ordinary impertinence or insubordination, and it was hard to see how ordinary tactics would have helped things.
Well, at least it was the weekend now, and she could forget—or almost forget—the disagreeable crises of business life until Monday morning.
On the way home Jane inquired in a friendly way about her weekend plans, and seemed a good deal surprised that Katherine was not going out with Paul either that afternoon or evening.
“But you’ll both be going to see your family tomorrow,
I
suppose?” she said.
“No. I’m afraid not that, either.” Katherine tried to make it all sound very ordinary and matter-of-fact. “We did really intend to, of course. But Paul has had a
...
a lot of extra work to do. So I’ll have to go on my own by train.”
“Oh, what a pity!” Jane was genuinely sympathetic. “But I suppose the truth is that this merger, or takeover, or whatever it is, involves a lot of calculation and negotiation.”
“I’m sure it does.”
“But—” Jane glanced at her diffidently “—it
is
very much to the advantage of the Kendales, on balance, isn’t it, Katherine?”
“I don’t really know any more about it than anyone else.” Katherine looked surprised. “But—yes, certainly it must be to their advantage. Otherwise they wouldn’t have entered into it.”
“They might not have had much choice.” Jane shook her head.
“How do you mean?” Again Katherine looked surprised. “They sold a large and going concern—even if it had become rather old-fashioned. They can’t exactly have
lost
over the transaction.”
“Oh, no—not that part of it.”
“What, then?”
“I don’t really know. But there’s a story making the rounds that Kendales have retained far more say in the running of the business than is usual in these cases, and that they had to put a very stiff sum of money into the bargain for that concession.”
“Well, I suppose they
...
balanced one thing against the other,” said Katherine slowly.
“Maybe. I don’t know enough about these things myself,” Jane conceded. “But there’s a sort of
feeling
in the town—and the store—that Kendales, by which I mean the Kendale family, of course, have slightly overreached themselves.”
“Financially, you mean?”
Jane nodded.
“Don’t think I’m trying to pump you, Katherine. I just wondered if you knew, and thought you should know, if you’re going to marry into the family.”
“Oh
...
yes. Well, thanks, Jane.
I
honestly don’t know anything about such a situation, and I’m inclined to think it’s just a story cooked up by ill-wishing people,” Katherine said.
“Very likely.” Jane looked relieved. “That Aileen Lester, for one.”
“Ye-es,” said Katherine doubtfully. And for the very first time it entered her head that perhaps Aileen’s absurd threats and assumption of authority might not be entirely without foundation.
But after some thought she dismissed—or almost dismissed—such an idea, and addressed herself to finding an adequate explanation for Paul’s absence to satisfy her family on the morrow.
It was quite difficult, when it came to the point. For one thing, everyone seemed so extravagantly disappointed by his nonappearance.
“He
said
he would come!” Charlotte kept on repeating, and to Katherine’s mingled remorse and
ir
ritation, both the twins looked
almost tearful.
“He only said he would try,” Katherine pointed out.
“But he meant he would come,” Charlotte stated with conviction. “Why didn’t he come?”
“I’ve
told you, darling. He’s very busy.”
“He needn’t be so busy on Sunday, surely?” said Gwen. “He seemed to want to come again.”
“He did,” agreed Katherine, feeling vaguely mean because that was the truth and it was she who had prevented him.
“We must remember he’s a very important man,” her mother said admonishingly to the younger ones. But Katherine could hear from her voice that she, too, was disappointed.
She wanted to tell them that it was all for the best
—
that they were really being saved from deeper disappointment later. But as it was impossible to say this, she had to leave it to her father to remark, with his most reassuring bedside manner, “Well, well, if Kate is going to marry him, we will be able to see him on a lot of Sundays in future.”
“Other Sundays are never so important as the one that’s actually happening,” observed Charlotte disconsolately. A sentiment with which everyone who has ever been disappointed will profoundly agree.
They cheered up presently, of course. But conversation tended to revolve around Paul and future plans. And after a while it was impossible to conceal the fact that Katherine had not known him at all until she came to Morringham.
“You mean you’d never even
met
him?” Gwen gazed at her with mingled astonishment and awe.
“Well
...
no.”
“And he just fell straight in love with you—like that?”
“So he says.” Katherine tried to smile and look like the gratified object of love at first sight.
“How simply thrilling. Kate, I don’t believe you even know how lucky you are. I think he’s a wonderful man. Even more wonderful than Mr. Sanger, if possible.”
“Mr. Sanger?”
“Our senior surgeon. You know—I told you about him.”
“Oh, yes, I remember. The one with the graying hair and the interesting indifferent manner,” said Katherine.
“That’s right,” agreed Gwen, and went into a blissful trance about Mr. Sanger.
“Darling, had you really known Paul only a matter of days when you got engaged?” her mother asked later, when she got Katherine to herself.
“I’m afraid so, Mother. Are you shocked?”
“No
...
I’m not shocked. I just hope you both really do know your own minds.”
Katherine wondered if this was a good moment to introduce the very first doubt, and so break the shock that would be coming later. But just as she was trying to find some tactful opening words, her mother picked up her left hand with a smile and said, “Well, that ring certainly speaks very eloquently for Paul’s feelings.”
“Yes. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Beautiful,” her mother agreed. And any chance of throwing doubts on the engagement had passed.
Both the children accompanied Katherine when her father drove her to the station in the family car. And Charlotte’s last reproachful words were, “Be sure to bring Paul next time.”
“I will,” promised Katherine weakly, and she got into her compartment and stood at the window waving until the old-fashioned engine bore her slowly out of sight.
It was a little-used branch line, with out-of-date rolling stock, and for the first ten minutes Katherine was alone as they progressed jerkily into and out of two other small stations. But then at the third station there seemed to be a certain amount of excitement because a cattle truck had almost gone off the line.
Katherine leaned out of the window on the off side of the train where most of the shouting was going on. And as she did so she heard someone open the door and get into the compartment.
Like most of us, she felt vaguely annoyed at not being left on her own, and it was a few minutes before she drew her head in again. As she did so, someone exclaimed, “Good heavens, Kate! I didn’t realize it was you.”
And she found herself facing Malcolm.
CHAPTER
NINE
“Why Malcolm!”
She hardly knew if she was pleased or embarrassed. “What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the weekend with the Kendales.”
“I was. I left this afternoon.” He did not offer to explain why. “I’ve been out in the car. But I ran into engine trouble and I’ve had to leave it at a garage. How come you’re here?”
“I’ve been to see the family.”
“Oh
...
yes.” He seemed to make some effort to bring his mind to her affairs. “They live somewhere in this direction, don’t they?”
She nodded.
“Paul didn’t go with you?” And then, before she could reply, “No, of course.
I
remember now. He was home for most of the weekend.”
It seemed pointless to plead work for Paul to anyone who knew more about his weekend movements than she did herself. So she was silent. And after a moment he said, “Why didn’t he go with you? I should have thought he would want to meet his prospective in-laws.”
“He did meet them—last weekend.”
“And that was all they wanted to see of each other?”
“On the contrary!” She spoke indignantly. “They got on extremely well, if you want to know. Though I’m not quite sure why you would.”
To her surprise he passed his hand over his face, as though trying to brush away confusing or disagreeable thoughts. Then he said, “I’m sorry, Kate. I suppose I’m a little too obviously anxious to find something wrong with this engagement between you and Paul.”
“But—” she caught her breath “—why?”
They had drawn jerkily out of the station some time ago, but evidently the near derailment of the cattle truck had completely disorganized the line, and now they had come to a halt out in the open country. Everything seemed unnaturally silent, but it was quite a minute before Malcolm broke the silence with the apparently irrelevant statement.
“Geraldine wants to break our engagement.”
“Oh, Malcolm!” She put her hand to her lips. “I’m terribly sorry.”
“Are you really?” He smiled faintly. “That’s generous of you. But you always were generous, Kate.” She brushed that aside.
“You say she
wants
to break it? She hasn’t actually done so?”
“Not to the extent of giving me back my ring, because I refused to take it. But she’s presented me with what she thinks are overwhelming reasons for our not going o
n
with things.”
“And those are?”
“Mostly the financial position of the family.”
“The financial position of the family?” Katherine looked taken aback. “What on ear
th has that got to do with it?”
He stared moodily out of the window and was again silent for a few moments. Then he looked at her and said abruptly, “Do you know anything much about the terms of the takeover of Kendales?”
Katherine shook her head.
“Well, somewhat oversimplified, I understand the arrangement was that the old man accepted most of the price in shares that were not to be sold for a period of years.”
“Was that very wise?”
“Yes.” Malcolm smiled grimly. “They were Bremmisons shares, which are hardly ever sold on the open market. They pay handsomely and are as safe as the
Bank of England. In effect, old Kendale assured himself a large income for life and a comfortable inheritance for his heirs. But in return he sold Kendales outright.”
“Outright!”
“The deal was as good as through when Paul, summoned urgently by Geraldine, came storming back on the scen
e
, insisting that the family should somehow retain a substantial interest in the business. After a lot of arguing and redrafting the Kendales were given a seat on the board on condition that they put a big chunk of capital into the firm.”
“Then they
...
got the best of both worlds?”
“Except that they simply hadn’t the ready money to carry through the deal. They had to borrow most of it.”
“You mean
...
Paul borrowed it?”
“No. Old Kendale borrowed it. Geraldine thinks even without Paul’s knowledge.”
“But—” Katherine looked doubtful “—Mr. Kendale doesn’t even like Paul. Why should he put himself in a precarious position just to please him?”
“It wasn’t to please Paul. It was to save his own pride. During the big family row, according to Geraldine, he tried to conceal the fact that he was selling Kendales outright. And when he was pushed into a corner, he boasted that he could easily get Paul a seat on the board if that was what all the fuss was about. Even Geraldine doesn’t know quite what her father was forced to borrow in order to make good his word. But she does know from whom he borrowed it.”
“Aileen Lester’s father,” said Katherine resignedly. “Yes. How did you know?”
“I’ve heard one or two odd rumors, which I didn’t take very seriously until now. But Aileen’s whole air suggests that she and her father hold some sort of trump card when it comes to store decisions.”
“Well
...
that’s the position, roughly speaking. Now, for some reason best known to himself, old Lester has chosen to take a hard stance with Mr. Kendale
...”
“Ah—” said Katherine softly.
“And it seems that the bulk of the money Will not be forthcoming, after all. Only the token payment made in advance.
A
very large sum has to be found
...
somewhere else.”
“Do you mean that otherwise the whole takeover bid could be jeopardized?”
“No, not that. The actual transfer of the business has been completed. But the Kendale interest in the firm would be more or less ruled out.”
“Paul would hate that!
”
exclaimed Katherine quickly.
“I’m not shedding tears for Paul. He can look after himself,” retorted Malcolm roughly. “What concerns me is that Geraldine would hate it. Indeed, she’s passionately determined that this shouldn’t happen, and she has informed me that she hardly minds how she gets the money as long as she does get it.”
“What does she mean by that, exactly?”
“In crude and simple terms, that she can no longer afford to marry anything but a very rich man,” was the bitter reply.
“But—” Katherine looked sceptical “—that isn’t like her, Malcolm. I’m sorry—but it really isn’t. I can’t see Geraldine sacrificing herself for the family firm—or anything else, come to that. She wouldn’t give up someone she loved for a seat on the board of Kendales—for her brother or anyone else. It’s completely out of character.”
He smiled wryly.
“You don’t think too well of my Geraldine, do you? Well, I suppose that’s natural.”
“It isn’t that at all!” Katherine flushed angrily. “I think she has a lot of engaging qualities, as a matter of fact. But a capacity for noble sacrifice is not one of them. If she really loves you—”
“Stop putting your finger so unerringly and painfully on the spot,” Malcolm said with a slight grimace. “If she were madly in love with me, Katherine,
I
know as well as you that she wouldn’t talk this way.”
“
Then you mean she’s
...
not?”
He shrugged impatiently.
“
They say there’s always one who does the kissing, and one who turns the cheek. Well, if that’s the position—I accept it. In time I can make her love me—
I
know that. But
I
must have time—
I
must have time.” He softly beat one clenched hand into the palm of the other as he spoke, apparently hardly even remembering the love 'that had once existed between him and Katherine, and utterly oblivious of any pain he might be causing her by his candor now.
“I
can’t
have her turn me down now, Kate. She must somehow be persuaded that this idea of marrying a fortune is unnecessary—”
“
But it isn’t unnecessary, if that’s the way she sees it,” Katherine said almost coldly, because only so could she hide the fact that she was both angry and hurt. “The money has to come from somewhere, you say. If Geraldine marries money—and that seems to be the casual way they arrange their affairs—that is the answer. What else?”
“You know perfectly well what else!” He spoke so violently that she winced. “If Paul married money that would also answer the problem.”
“If Paul—Oh!
I
see.”
She was silent for a long minute, illogically revolted by the idea that Paul should be involved in these calculations.
“Yes—you do see, don’t you?” Malcolm spoke eagerly, almost pleadingly. “It has to be one of them. It’s pretty well reduced itself to that. And I can’t let it be Geraldine.”
“You mean that once more it’s I who have to be sacrificed?” she said, and for the first time in her life she thought Malcolm rather insufferable. The disloyal thought was gone almost as soon as it formed, but it left a small, searing impression on her mind.
“It isn’t quite that,” Malcolm argued, still in that eager, half-pleading tone. “Though I realize I’m the last person in the world to have the right to ask you to make even the smallest sacrifice. But you don’t love him, Kate. And I do love Geraldine—desperately.”
“How do you know I don’t love Paul?”
“You said as much.”
“I did?” She looked startled. “When?”
“At the ball, when I first challenged you. You brought out the usual guff about liking and admiring him. But you hardly knew him. It was all you could do not to call him Mr. Kendale still. Kate, I know it’s a wonderful match—but your feelings simply can’t be involved. And in any case, Paul isn’t the man to make you happy, if you want my candid opinion.”
“I don’t,” Katherine said, more curtly that she had ever imagined herself speaking to Malcolm. “And it’s ridiculous of us to talk of him in this academic sort of way. Paul is a man who makes his own decisions
—
whether he is engaged to me or not.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Impatiently Malcolm conceded as much: “But there isn’t much doubt what he would do if he weren’t tied to you—”
“Really, Malcolm, you
are
contriving to say some offensive things to me tonight!”
“Oh, Lord, Kate, I’m sorry!” There was real contrition in his voice. “I’m so shattered by Geraldine’s announcement and desperate about the future—I hardly know what I’m saying.”
“I know the feeling,” said Katherine somberly, and she meant that literally and in no mood of reproach. All the same it silenced him, though he continued to watch her anxiously in the insufficient light from the old
-
fashioned railway lamp.
It was almost dark outside now, and when Katherine stared out of the window she saw little more than her own troubled reflection in the glass.
Of course—there was a rough sort of common sense about much that Malcolm had said, however tactless and hurtful his wording might have been.
He did love Geraldine, and it was probably true that her temporary coolness owed much to the fact that she felt she could no longer allow herself the indulgence of marrying a comparatively poor man. Once that position was righted, she might well see Malcolm in a different light once more. At any rate, he seemed confident of that.
Set against this was nothing but her own unreal engagement to Paul, which would in any case be coming to an end in a few weeks.
I
t seemed rather paltry to refuse cooperation. And yet—
“You think, if I were not there—” she was really speaking her thoughts aloud “—Paul would probably marry some rich girl rather than lose—”
“Of course!” Malcolm did not even let her finish the sentence. “Aileen Lester, in all probability. And then the two old men would patch things up.”
“Not Aileen Lester,
I
think,” said Katherine quickly.
“No? Lots of people thought he would marry Aileen before you came along.”
“Then they were wrong,” retorted Katherine with quite unnecessary vehemence. “He wouldn’t marry Aileen even if the alternative were to leave Kendales altogether.”
“Don’t you believe it!” Malcolm looked surprised at her reaction. “Paul would pretty nearly sell his soul to retain his foothold in Kendales. You forget that his father virtually kept him out for years. This is his triumph, the reward for all those frustrating years. He’d marry anyone to prevent the position being snatched from him again.”
“Not Aileen,” reiterated Katherine obstinately.
“Well—” Malcolm glanced at her curiously “—he certainly took evasive action when the old man tried to stampede him. But he wouldn’t have known then just how much was involved.”
“No,” agreed Katherine slowly. “He didn’t know then just how much was involved.” And suddenly she felt indescribably depressed.
“Well, Kate?” As the train started again, jerkily, Malcolm leaned forward eagerly. “Are you going to help me?”
“If Paul feels as you say, he’ll surely take action himself now he does know how much is involved.” She felt it was ungenerous to prevaricate. But why
should
she once more be the one who had to shoulder all the unpleasantness?
“Not if Geraldine moves first. Why should he?”
“Oh—I forgot that.”
“Kate—” suddenly he looked young and haggard, in a way that touched her and reminded her faintly of the days when his lightest wish had been her concern “—I know I’m being horribly, almost indecently frank. But to you I can speak almost as to my other self—”
She marveled that he could still say these things!
“I love her. But I hold her lightly—insecurely. I know it. That’s the devil of the situation. Unless this threat to the Kendale holding is removed, I’ve as good as lost her. And you’re about the only person who can set the alternative in motion.”
She supposed that was true. In a strange ironical way, it was true. She could give Malcolm his happiness, or withhold it.
“While I was driving along just now, I was thinking and thinking about it,” Again he was speaking rapidly and almost feverishly. “And I saw suddenly that you were the only person who could help me. I didn’t see how I could ever have the nerve—the effrontery—to go to you and ask you to help me. And then, when I got in here and suddenly saw it was you standing by the window, it was like a miracle. A gift from heaven.”
She had enough humor left to feel faintly amused that she could still seem like a gift from heaven to him, though in rather changed terms. But there was really nothing funny about the situation. It was just a very unpalatable rehash of events, in which she was once more the superfluous figure.
“Kate—” he said again. And she r
e
alized that she simply could not keep him waiting for an answer any longer. She also realized that there was only one answer, unless she was to feel forever small and mean.
“Very well, Malcolm,” she said quietly. “I’ll break my engagement with Paul, if you really think that will give you your happiness.”
“Oh, Kate! You’re wonderful!” He came and put His arm around her, but she pushed him quickly away with a revulsion of feeling that astonished herself.