Chapter XII: Katherine Hunt's Strategy

"Is there any place where we can be alone?" said Kitty.

"Why?" asked Keith.

"I cannot dance," she said again; "my heart beats too fast."

Keith could observe through the cobweb lace which was fastened across her neck that her heart was beating far too fast for health and prudence. He looked at her earnestly. Her eyes were raised to his, and something of the passion which blazed in them was communicated to his breast. His intense unwillingness to fling himself at her feet--his almost aversion to her when he had learned a few days ago that she had committed a crime punishable by the law--left him. He said in a choking voice,--

"You want supper; I will get you a glass of champagne. Come with me."

He led her through the throng, put her into a cool seat by an open window, and brought her some champagne. She drank a glassful, and then handed the glass back to him. He laid it down. From where they sat the dreamy music of the band, the rhythmic steps of the dancers, the buzz of conversation, seemed far off and almost unreal. A curtain, gracefully arranged, almost concealed the figure of Kitty Hepworth; but the reflection of some fairy lamps in the wide balcony outside fell across her face, and Keith thought he had never seen such dark and such lovely eyes before.

Close to them, unseen and unnoticed, stalked the god of war. If it were given to him to smile, he must have smiled then as he saw the young pair, for Keith suddenly bent forward and took Kitty's hand in his own.

"This is Monday," he said, "and I go on Saturday."

She tried to speak, but found herself unable.

"Will you wait for me until I come back?" he said then.

His words were like an electric shock to the girl. Notwithstanding all her beauty, her attitude had been one which denoted extreme weariness, not to say despair; but now there shot through every fibre of her being the most rosy and golden hope.

"Will I wait for you, Gavon! Do you mean it?" she asked.

"I mean it," he said slowly. "Will you be my wife when I return home, Kitty?"

"I will go with you," she said. She took his hand in both her own and clasped it with feverish intensity. "You must not go alone. I will go with you."

"We cannot be married between now and Saturday," was his next remark.

"We can," she said, "by special licence. And what is money worth? I will go with you; you shall not go into danger alone."

"Wives are not expected to go with their husbands."

"With you, or without you, I will go south," she said. "And is it true that you really love me, Gavon?"

"I have always cared for you," he said then, very slowly, "and I will marry you when I return, Katharine."

"Before you go," she replied.

He shook his head.

For a wonder, Katherine Hunt was standing alone on a balcony; she had no cavalier close at hand--the daughter of the millionaire was to all appearance, for the time being, neglected. A man came close to her; she turned, and saw Captain Keith. There was a change in his face. She did not know whether he looked glad or sorry. He just came up to her and said briefly,--

"I should like to tell you something,"

"What is it?" she answered.

"I am going to marry the Silver Queen. Will you congratulate me?"

She gave a quick start; then she said quietly,--

"I congratulate you with all my heart. I trust she will make you happy."

"She is very fond of me," he said. "I hope we shall be happy. Thank you for your congratulations."

"Will you marry before you go south?" was her next remark.

"Certainly not. Can I take you anywhere?"

"No. I came out here to be alone. Don't tell anybody where I am. It is delightful to be in a crowd like this, and yet to be alone. I congratulate you again, Captain Keith. You said the other day that you were without chivalry. I think you have a great deal. Good-bye. Will you think I am taking a liberty if I say, 'God bless you'?"

"Indeed I do not," was his answer.

She held out her hand; he wrung it and went away. A moment later he had left the ballroom.

Katherine Hunt sat on alone.

"This dazes me," she said to herself. "He doesn't love her. Is she worthy of him? I must find out something else too," she thought impatiently, and now she looked towards the crowded ballroom.

Presently a man appeared--a tall man, with a florid face.

"Major Strause!" said the girl.

He came towards her at once. He had paid court to her assiduously for some time, always without the slightest result. She detested the man, reading his character well enough. He was delighted at the welcoming tone in her voice, and went quickly to her side.

"Is there the most remote chance of your giving me a dance?" was his first query.

"I think not," she answered. "My card has been full for a long time."

"Then may I at least have the privilege of staying with you until your next partner arrives?"

She was silent for a minute; then she said quickly,--

"You may stay on one condition."

"What is that?"

"I want to be introduced to a young lady, one of the guests."

"What young lady?"

"She is known as the Silver Queen. Her real name is Katherine Hepworth."

"What! Keith's young lady?" said Major Strause.

"Captain Keith," corrected Katherine Hunt.

"Captain Keith, if you like. We happened to be brother officers for a time in the same regiment. I thought he seemed very much taken with her the other day. But what can I do for you with regard to Miss Hepworth?"

"Will you bring her to me to be introduced, or shall I go with you? I want to see her, to speak to her, to look at her."

"Why this romantic interest?" queried Strause. "I do not know that there is anything very special about Miss Hepworth. She has a sister worth twenty of herself--a very fine girl indeed. Still, she is pretty, and, I believe, will have money."

"What has money to do with it?" asked Katharine Hunt. "I don't want to see her because she has money. I want to see her in order to speak to her. Can you introduce me?"

"I will try. Will you stay where you are? and I will, if possible, bring her back to you."

Major Strause re-entered one of the reception rooms Katherine Hunt waited in the balcony. Her heart was beating fast.

"I am curious--wonderfully curious," she said to herself. "I want to find out."

A moment later she heard a man's voice and a girl's silvery laughter. She turned. A girl with a radiant face--a face which beamed happiness on all around her--stood by her side. Major Strause performed the necessary introduction.

"I wanted to see you so badly," said Anne Boleyn. "Will you come with me, beautiful Silver Queen?--Major Strause, will you keep guard? I shall be everlastingly indebted to you." The major frowned; he evidently did not care for the rôle assigned to him. "And will you dine with us to-morrow night?" added Katherine. Whereupon his face cleared. He liked his dinners at the Hunts', and Katherine was quite cordial.

The two girls retired into a little alcove close at hand. They were in comparative solitude in this position, and what they said to each other could not be overheard. Katherine Hunt looked full at the excited, beaming, happy face of the Silver Queen.

"I am going to leap over conventionalities, and come direct to a subject which must be very near your heart," she said.

"What is that?" asked Kitty.

She looked with interest at Katherine Hunt. She had never seen her before, but she liked her face.

"You are one of those blessed ones," continued Miss Hunt, "whose privilege it is to help a man in a great emergency. All we girls in these ballrooms know that many of those we love best will soon be exposed to danger, to hardship--perhaps to death."

"Why do you remind me of it?" asked Kitty. She trembled as she spoke.

"Because such thoughts must have come to you: because I guess--nay, I know--your secret. I met Captain Keith a few days ago. He is engaged to you. He asked me for my congratulations."

"Did he?" replied Kitty. She held out her soft hand impulsively. "Congratulate me too," she said. "I can scarcely realize my great happiness. Yes, I am engaged to him, and if possible we will be married before Saturday, and I mean to go south with him."

"I don't know whether to admire or to upbraid you," said Katherine Hunt. "Sometimes a woman best shows her love by effacing herself."

"Mine is not that sort of love. It is selfish; I don't pretend to deny it," replied Kitty.

"I am sorry to hear you say so, for Captain Keith deserves an unselfish devotion. Shall I tell you how I first became acquainted with him?"

"Please do." Kitty leaned back as she spoke. She felt quite restful and very happy. All was right at last--her daring step had been crowned with success. Even the dress of the Silver Queen had been worth buying at the cost of honesty, for was not the prize she had coveted in her hand?

Katherine Hunt read the eager and charming face as though she would sift all its thoughts to the very bottom. She noticed, even in that moment of bliss and exultation, certain lines about the lips, certain weaknesses in the contour of chin and neck, which would develop into something more than weakness by-and-by. She felt a curious desire to wring this girl's secret from her. She knew that she was in a measure cruel, but she could not desist.

"I will tell you," she said, "it is such an exciting story. Do you know that on Thursday of last week--yes, I remember quite well, it was Thursday--I lost my purse."

"Your purse!" said Kitty. She half rose; but Katherine, with a very light, detaining hand, kept her seated.

"When your partner wants you he will find you out. Major Strause will be sure to see to that," she said.

"I beg your pardon," said Kitty. She sat back again. "Your purse!" she said. "I think the present style of pockets very unsafe."

"I did not lose it in that way. I had gone to my bank and drawn a hundred pounds. I had a few shillings in the purse at the time. My purse had the initials 'K.H.' in silver on it. It was a Russian leather purse. I left it in a hansom. Curious to say, I, who am one of the most reckless of girls, took the number of the hansom. It was 22,461. I had just got an invitation to go to Kenmuir House. My father had been angling for the invitation for some time. I was most anxious to go. I was wild with delight, and hurried off to my dressmaker, Madame Dupuys. Did you say anything?"

"Curious," said Kitty. "I--oh, nothing."

"Nothing! Do speak."

"She happens to be my dressmaker too--that is, if you mean Madame Dupuys in Bond Street."

"I mean the same. She made your exquisite dress, did she not?"

"Yes. I am sure I ought to go back to the ballroom."

"How uninteresting of you not to listen to the end of my story! But I will be quick. And I have not yet come to Captain Keith's part."

"But Gavon--"

"Who is Gavon?"

"Captain Keith's name is Gavon. But Gavon can have nothing to do with the story of your purse."

"You would certainly think not; but wait until you hear. I went to Madame Dupuys and put my hand in my pocket. The purse was gone! I made a great fuss, and said that I would go straight to Scotland Yard, as I happened to remember the number of the cab. I went there, but could get no tidings. The cabman had not brought the purse there; but as the number of his cab was known, the police said that they would look him up. I gave full particulars and returned home. I hoped to get my money back, and I expected some one to come to me from Scotland Yard with tidings at any moment. The hours passed, however, and no one came, and I was considerably annoyed. I am rich, but my father would be angry if I lost so much money. In the afternoon Captain Keith called to see me. I saw him. He said that he had called to restore me my lost money. He was sorry he could not let me have the purse as well. What is the matter?"

"My partner must be waiting for me," said Kitty. "And this place is too close," she added. "I cannot breathe comfortably."

She staggered out of the little retreat, and Katherine Hunt noticed that her face was as white as death. Major Strause was within view. Katherine led Kitty on to the balcony. She did not say anything more about the purse.