How curious an effect to be produced upon anyone so reasonable, so
sensible as Katherine! After a long time, she did not know how long, she
was recalled to common day by her arrival at the dressmaker’s where she
had to get out and move and speak, all of which she seemed to do in a
dream. And then the day turned round and she had to think of her journey
back again. Why did she tell him not to come? It would have harmed
nobody if he had come. Her father had not forbidden her to see him, and
even had he forbidden her, a girl who was of age, who was nearly
twenty-four, who had after all a life of her own to think of, should she
have refrained from seeing him on that account? All her foundations were
shaken, not so much by feeling of her own as by the sight and certainty
of his feeling. She would not desert her father, never, never run away
from him like Stella. But at least she might have permitted herself to
see James Stanford again. She said to herself, “I may never marry him;
but now I shall marry nobody else.” And why had she not let him come,
why might they not at least have understood each other? The influence of
this thought was that Katherine did not linger for the afternoon train,
to which Stanford after all did go, on the chance of seeing her, of
perhaps travelling with her again, but hurried off by the very first,
sadly disappointing poor Hannah, who had looked forward to the glory of
lunching with her young mistress in some fine pastrycook’s as Stevens
had often described. Far from this, Hannah was compelled to snatch a bun
at the station, in the hurry Miss Katherine was in; and why should she
have hurried? There was no reason in the world. To be in London, and yet
not in London, to see nothing, not even the interior of Verey’s, went to
Hannah’s heart. Nor was Katherine’s much more calm when she began to
perceive that her very impetuosity had probably been the reason why she
did not see him again; for who could suppose that she who had spoken of
perhaps not going till to-morrow, should have fled back again in an
hour, by a slow train in which nobody who could help it ever went?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account