CHAPTER II.

But Katharine could tell him nothing; and he, seeing that she wished to keep her own counsel, asked her nothing. But he insisted that she should spend some of her leisure time in his home; and when she was there, he tried to be, so he said, his brightest and quickest self, in order to cheer her and chase away all bad effects of business and culture. One Sunday when she went, he was in great spirits. He had sold his picture of Mary, Queen of Scots.

"You now see the advantage of working slowly," he said in a grandiose manner. "I have taken sixteen years of continuous thought and study to paint that immortal picture. One year less would not have done the trick! By Jove! Kath, won't that look well in the papers? All the fellows I know paint six pictures a-year, or write twelve books a-month. But I, Willy Tonedale, the much-abused slow one, have painted one picture in sixteen years. I admit that an artist does not become rich on one picture in sixteen years. But reflect, I beg you, on the thought, the patient historic research involved, and the reward reached after long, long years of toil! What a good thing I didn't die over that pneumonia affair! I should have gone spark out if you had not come over from Norway and called me back to life. I began to get better directly you returned, Kath, and directly mother left off engaging the Christian Science creature to heal me. Of course mother makes out that I was cured by Christian Science; but I say I was cured by Katharine Science. Smart of me, isn't it? But then I am getting awfully sharp! I'm amazed at myself. Seems to me, though, that as I become sharper, every one I know becomes duller. Margaret is quite flattened out with Causes, and wears sandals. Mother is a weird mixture of depression and superiority from Christian Science and the Salisbury treatment; even my belovèd cousin Julia looks devitalised and chastened. She only speaks in a whisper, and her face is the colour of artichoke-soup. She says she had a fright in Norway."

Katharine laughed.

"I should think she did have a fright in Norway," Katharine said, brightening up. And she told Willy something of what had happened up at the Saeter.

"And what are you going to do to her when you see her?" he asked.

"Nothing," Katharine answered. "I do not mind what she thinks of me. I know you do not think I ever behaved badly to you."

"I know what I am going to do to her when I see her again," he said.

"Don't do anything stupid," Katharine said. "It isn't worth while."

"What will Professor Thornton do to her?" Willy asked slowly, after a pause.

"I could not say," replied Katharine quietly. "Probably nothing."

"Haven't you seen him lately?" Willy asked.

"No," she replied, turning away from him. She could not bear to talk of Clifford, and yet she wished to make the effort in return for all Willy's gentle kindness.

Willy waited. She turned to him again with her old impulsiveness, and there were tears in her eyes.

"I think he did not care for me after all, Willy," she said almost in a whisper. "That is all there is to tell you."

"It would not be possible for him not to care," Willy answered; and this time it was he who turned away.

"But, all the same, Kath," he went on when he had recovered himself, "you must not work too hard at business. Ronnie is a duffer and doesn't see, and Gwendolen wouldn't notice if any one were ill except herself. But I know you are overdoing it. I don't half like your being down at the factory."

"It is most curious how I seem to have to apologise to my friends for taking up some serious work," Katharine said. "No one would have any criticism to make if I were tiring myself over pleasure. And yet I assure you that dealing with pipes and reeds and bellows and sounding-boards and pedals, and even clergymen, is far less tiring than the ordinary routine of leisured pleasure, and much more interesting."

"I always understood clergymen were tiring persons," Willy suggested.

"They may be tiring in their pulpits," Katharine answered, "but not when they come to order organs! At any rate, one can put up with them then. Then, the price is worth the preaching!"

"Ah," he said, "there is a bit of your old fun again. Your friends will not mind what you do, if only you keep your old bright happiness; we'll allow you to be as business-like, as cultured, as learned--yes, Kath--as scientific as you please, only you must not be unhappy. I'm not going to be unhappy. I am going to begin another picture to-morrow. I shall get cousin Julia to sit for me as Lucretia Borgia in a chastened mood. Do you remember my saying that you were made for happiness? As I am a living artist of great but slow genius, I mean it, Kath. You'll get your heart's desires. I know you will. Believe my word. I am never mistaken. And as for cousin Julia, you are right, we will not bother about her: she will have to sit for Lucretia Borgia."

"I think that ought to be a severe enough punishment," Katharine answered. "To sit to you for--sixteen weary years!"

At that moment the door opened, and the servant announced Mrs Stanhope.

Mrs Stanhope, who was looking pale, came into the studio. She glanced at Katharine, and seemed confused; for since her return from Norway she had been haunted by fears of prosecutions for slander and other terrors of the law.

Katharine made no sign, no movement. She appeared not to see Mrs Stanhope. But Willy, without any hesitation, went forward to greet his cousin Julia.

"Cousin Julia," he said, with his peculiar drawl, which was always accentuated when he was particularly stirred, "I am glad you have come. I have been hearing that up on a Norwegian mountain, you made the statement that Katharine Frensham played with me--and threw me over. Yes, she has played with me. We've played together ever since I can remember; and even as little children, we were proud of our jolly good understanding. But she never threw me over. And, by Jove, I hope she never will."

"I am glad I was mistaken, Willy," Mrs Stanhope said, with a touch of diluted sarcasm.

"Yes, I daresay you are," he answered. "But I rather advise you not to make any more mistakes of that sort. Might be awkward for you. Can't help being sorry for you though, cousin Julia. I believe Professor Thornton intends----"

Mrs Stanhope turned paler.

"Where is your mother?" she asked hurriedly.

"Gone to a Christian Science or Salisbury Service," he replied. "Don't know which. I always mix up those two services."

Then Mrs Stanhope, with another glance at Katharine, who still ignored her presence, hastened away.

"By Jove, Kath!" Willy said when they were alone again, "I never saw you so still or so quiet before. You didn't move a muscle."

"If I had moved a muscle, I should have whipped her!" Katharine answered with some of her old spirit.

"Ah," said Willy, nodding his head approvingly, "I perceive you won't die yet. You are still human."