i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (100 books to read in a lifetime .txt) 📗

"At home? Oh no. He's on honeymoon; he was married by special licence last week.... Are you there?"

Yes. "

"They've gone to America, where Mr. Herrington is going to lecture.... What did you say? ... Oh, who did he marry? Why, Miss Scott-Jones, of course, they were engaged before he left for Africa, the year before last.... Can I give his sister, Mrs. Jackson, any message?... Hello I... Hello 1' Kate hung up the receiver and walked out of the booth. An old woman in a long black coat and bonnet touched her arm: " What's the matter, hinny ? Are yer not feeling well? "

"I'm all right, thank you," said Kate, and walked away. Oh, John!

John! Miss Scott-Jones 1 You never said; no one ever said; and she was so ugly. Oh, Holy Mary, help me! He'll never see Annie now. He couldn't have even loved me, after all he said; not even when he. Oh, I must sit down. She went into a cafe, and sat in a corner, with her back to the room, oblivious of the stares and chatter of the Christmas shoppers. She ordered a cup of tea and sat sipping it. The purpose had suddenly been taken out of living, and the sick hopelessness of the period before Annie had been born returned. Her efforts of the past year had been for nothing; for she admitted to herself now that there had been but one aim in her desire for knowledge; to be different; one aim that made her such an apt pupil and evoked the praise and encouragement of Bernard Tolmache.

She felt very young and helpless; all the magnificent feeling of the morning had fled. She wanted to cry. She mustn't cry here, she told herself, she must wait until she got home. But then, she mustn't give way there, either;

for what would her mother think? She knew nothing about John. She had asked her only once who the man was, and, on her stubborn silence, had not pressed the point. And it was strange, she thought at this moment, that her da, of all people, had said nothing; only glared at her silently. And always his glance had left her and rested on her mother, with an expression for which Kate could find no words to define. No, she mustn't go home and cry, because it would upset her mother; and she had looked happier this morning than Kate had ever remembered her looking before. She'd have to wait until she was in bed. And then there was Annie. Gone now was the hope that she would have a da. This disappointment added to her own wretched feelings, and she realised how much she had been banking on that.

She didn't buy her books, but instead took the tram back to Tyne Dock;

the Jarrow tram terminus was within a few yards of the dock gates. A tram was in, and she hurried towards it, dodging the groups of men so careully that she didn't know how she managed to knock the case out of the young man's hand as he, too, hurried towards the tram. Kate's apology was laughingly brushed aside, the young man saying there was certainly nothing to be sorry about. He sat beside her on the long wooden seat.

"Mild weather we're having for the time of the year," he remarked.

"Yes, it is," answered Kate.

"I like to see a bit of snow myself at Christmas; don't you?" said the young man.

"Yes, it's more seasonable, I suppose."

"You're Miss Hannigan, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am Kate Hannigan." She wished he would be quiet and would stop talking. It was with relief when she stood up and said, "Goodbye, and a happy Christmas."

He was a little taken aback at the coolness of her; he had not expected her to be so composed. After all, shed no need to put on airs.

Anyway, he'd made a start, and shed likely be at Midnight Mass tonight.

He stretched his five feet four inches, patted his bow tie, and pulled down his celluloid cuffs. Together with the interested spectators of the little scene, he watched Kate alight from the tram and, lifting her skirt, step lightly over the puddles in the road and on to the pavement.

Now, Kate thought, as she walked slowly up the street, I must say they hadn't the books I wanted, and that I've got a bad head; she'll believe that. But, whatever I do, I mustn't spoil her Christmas.

The front door was ajar. She pulled up abruptly at the kitchen door.

Her mother was by the window, with Annie in her arms, and, standing near the table, drawing on his gloves, was Doctor Prince.

The last time Rodney Prince had seen Kate she had looked what she was, a very young girl, and one who had narrowly escaped death. Staring at her now, in unfeigned amazement, he vividly recalled that night a year ago when he had had to put up a stiff fight for her life, only Davidson's help preventing him from losing. How they had worked on her 1 Now he felt grateful to her for being the medium through which he and Davidson had become such firm friends. And he wondered how he would have got through the past year without Davidson and his wife and the haven the grim-looking house on the Don had become.

But this girl, Kate Hannigan; she looked amazing . and so utterly out of place in her surroundings. What was it? Not only her warm, glowing face, or that hair. Of course, it was her clothes!

Good Lord, she was got up in style; and good style at that! But where?

| A sadness crept into his eyes.