Katharine Frensham: A Novel. Harraden Beatrice
Katharine said. "And Signor Luigi declared we ought both to be heartily ashamed of ourselves for quarrelling, and that the only way of effacing the disgrace was by giving him a new violoncello bow! I have always thought that was so funny."
"Well, he uses the bow to this day, and calls it his Queen," Ronald said. "How glad they will all be to see you. They have no idea that you have come back. Every night after we have played, we have drunk your health, each of us taking it in turn to propose the toast.
"'To the illustrious Signorina.'
"'To the wunderbar Fräulein.'
"'To the gracieuse English Mees.'
"'To the senior partner.'"
The tears came into Katharine's eyes.
"I am so glad you have remembered me," she said.
He rose as he spoke, perhaps to hide his own eyes, and he began to get out the music.
"Do you know this is the last of our quartette-meetings?" he said. "Gwendolen does not like them. They seem to interfere with other arrangements. Every invitation that ever ought to be accepted, appears to be fixed for that evening in the week. But I'm awfully sorry."
Katharine was silent.
"I should have given them up long ago but that I promised you," he said. "I think they are a little out of Gwendolen's line, you know. And I want to please her. I always want passionately to please her. She is my life, my whole life."
"Then you are really happy, Ronnie," she said gently.
"Yes, yes," he said, his face lighting up, "of course I am. Only sometimes I am rather worried about money, Kath, and think we are spending too much. It seems to take such a frightful lot of money to keep up with other people – and, oh well, we can talk about it another time – but the quartette costs money, and I think I must let it go at last. It was different when I was unmarried."
"Let me stand the quartette, old fellow," Kath said. "I like four people to drink my health regularly once a week."
"No, no," he said, smiling at her. "You must keep your money for yourself."
And then he added:
"Where are you going to live, and what are you going to do?"
"I am going to live in a flat in Westminster; that is my idea," she answered. "When you have been away a long time from England, you yearn to be within sight of the dear old Thames, the Houses of Parliament, and the Abbey. I have often closed my eyes and seen Westminster in a vision."
"Do you never intend to marry one of the many men who want you, Kath?" he asked.
"No," answered Katharine. "You did not marry until you loved passionately, did you? I shall not marry until I love passionately. And as that may never happen to me, and the years are passing, I have made up my mind to go into the business. The senior partner wants at last to be an active partner. I want to have something definite to do, Ronnie. I know you won't oppose me."
"Dear old girl," he said warmly, "you shall do as you like, and for as long as you like, or for as short. You shall receive the clients, help with the correspondence, design the organ cases, voice the reeds, any mortal thing you like."
"I am sick of travelling merely for travelling's sake," she went on. "If I had been a clever woman like Mary Kingsley, for instance, then I could have contributed something useful to the world as the results of my travels. But being what I am, there is no real zest in merely moving about aimlessly like any other globetrotter. No, I want something to do. I envy all women with a profession, Ronnie. When loneliness comes into their lives, they have something which has to be done, whether they are sad or gay. That is the salvation of men. And I believe it is going to be the salvation of women."
"Are you very lonely?" he said, turning to her impulsively.
"No, no," she said, gathering herself together. "But there have been times when – "
At that moment the door opened, and a sprightly little man with white hair leapt into the room. When he saw Katharine, he stood speechless at first and then advanced running.
"Signorina, the adorable and illustrious Signorina once more!" he cried. "Ah, what joy, what delight to see you here!"
"Signor Luigi," she exclaimed, "how glad I am to see you again!"
"Ah," he cried, as he shook both her hands time after time, and then lightly kissed them, "the world have changed places with Heaven. I have not forgot you one leetle minute. See here, my pocket-book, your gift, nearest my faithful heart. And the bow, 'my Queen,' here she is – under my faithful arm. Ah, she is a treasure. We chosed her well – you and 'brother' and I. Yes, that was a splendid idea of mine!"
"Yes, it was brilliant," Katharine said, laughing. "How often I have laughed over it. How often I have thought of you all. And you see I have kept my word, and come back on quartette-night."
"The last quartette-night," he said. "But never mind. It will be an adorable finishing-up. And we will play extra beautiful for the Signorina. I will make my violoncello sing superb. The others – they shall be nowhere!"
The door opened once more, and a stately-looking German came in carrying his violin case. He had bushy hair and a fierce moustache.
"Guten Abend, Signor," he said. "Guten Abend. It is sehr kalt to-night. Meine Finger – "
Then suddenly he saw Katharine, and Signor Luigi was only just in time to prevent the violin case from falling to the ground.
"Lieber Himmel!" he cried. "I do see my distinguished pupil."
"Distinguished for my ignorance and impatience, Herr Edelhart, wasn't it?" said Katharine, greeting him.
"And for wunderbar charm," added the German fervently. "Ah, I have had no one so distinguished for that. The others have had a little talent or none – generally none – and no charm. But Fräulein's wunderbar charm – it could not be described – only felt. Ah, and how himmlisch that you are come back. My violin shall sing her very best to-night. She shall inspire herself to welcome Fräulein. The others shall be nowhere! They – "
Then the door opened again, and a dark little man, obviously of French persuasion, came into the room looking rather dreamy and preoccupied; but when he saw Katharine he returned to real life, and his face broke out into a radiant smile.
"Mon Dieu!" he cried. "Mademoiselle have returned to us. Ah, le climat detestable of England have become a beautiful, French printemps. The fogs is gone. My dead hearts is alive. And Mademoiselle have made the miracle."
"You see that you have come back to faithful admirers, Kath," Ronald said, laughing.
"I see that I have come back to faithful flatterers," Katharine answered, as she stood in their midst laughing and shaking hands with them repeatedly. "But it is all delightful, and I feel years younger at being amongst my old friends. How many years have we known each other? Isn't it ten?"
"Ten years, five months," said Herr Edelhart, accurately.
"Onze, onze," said Monsieur Gervais.
"Always, always!" cried the Italian, waving his arms about in dismissal of time, and then dancing a sort of war-dance round the room.
"Ah, ha, we have not been so gay since the Signorina was cruel enough to leave us," he cried. "Tra, la, la, tra, la, la!"
"Look here, Luigi, we must manage to behave ourselves somehow," said Ronald, catching hold of the little Italian. "For there is a stranger coming to-night, and he will think we are all mad."
"A stranger," they cried, "and on our last night?"
"Oh, hang it all," said Ronald, laughing, "it can't be our last night."
"Bravo, bravissimo!" they cried.
And Herr Edelhart whispered to Katharine:
"Fräulein has come home, and 'brother' is coming back to his senses."
"Who is the stranger?" Katharine asked. "And how dare he intrude on us at such a moment?"
"Poor fellow, he wouldn't willingly intrude on any one," Ronald answered.