Nine o’clock on the following day, punctual almost to the minute, found Browne exchanging greetings with the concierge at the foot of the stairs, who, by this time, had come to know his face intimately. The latter informed him that Mademoiselle Petrovitch was at home, but that Madame Bernstein had gone out some few minutes before. Browne congratulated himself upon the latter fact, and ran upstairs three steps at a time. Within four minutes from entering the building Katherine was in his arms.
“Are you pleased to see me again, darling?” he inquired, after the first excitement of their meeting had passed away.
“More pleased than I can tell you,” she answered; and as she spoke Browne could see the love-light in her eyes. “Ever since your telegram arrived yesterday, I have been counting the minutes until I should see you. It seems like years since you went away, and such long years too!”
What Browne said in reply to this pretty speech, it does not behove me to set down here. Whatever it was, however, it seemed to give great satisfaction to the person to whom it was addressed. At length they sat down together upon the sofa, and Browne told her of the arrangements he had made. “I did not write to you about them, dear,” he said, “for the reason that, in a case like this, the less that is put on paper the better for all parties concerned. Letters may go astray, and there is no knowing what may happen to them. Therefore I thought I would keep all my news until I could tell it to you face to face. Are you ready for your long journey?”
“Yes, we are quite ready,” said Katherine. “We are only waiting for you. Madame has been very busy for the last few days, and so have I.” She mentioned Madame’s name with some little trepidation, for she feared lest the old subject, which had caused them both so much pain on the last occasion that they had met, might be revived. Browne, however, was careful, as she was, not to broach it.
“And when will your yacht leave England?” she inquired, after he had detailed his arrangements to her.
“On Monday next at latest,” he answered. “We shall not be very far behind you.”
“Nevertheless it will be a long, long time before I shall see you again,” she continued in a sad tone. “Oh, Jack, Jack, I cannot tell you how wicked I feel in allowing you to do so much for me. Even now, at this late hour, I feel I have no right to accept such a sacrifice at your hands.”
“Stop,” he replied, holding up his finger in warning. “I thought we had agreed that nothing more should be said about it.”
At this juncture there was the sound of a footstep in the passage outside, and a few seconds later Madame Bernstein entered the room. On seeing Browne she hastened forward, and greeted him with all the effusiveness of which she was mistress. “Ah, Monsieur Browne,” she said, “now that I see you my courage returns. As Katherine has doubtless told you, everything is prepared, and we are ready to start for Marseilles as soon as you give the order. Katherine is looking forward to the voyage; but as for me —— Ah! I do hate the sea more than anything in the world. That nasty little strip of salt water which divides England from France is a continual nightmare to me, and I never cross it without hoping it may be the last time.”
Browne tried to comfort her by telling her of the size of the vessel in which they were to travel, and assured her that, even if she should be ill, by the time they were out of the Mediterranean she would have recovered. Seeing that no other consolation was forthcoming, Madame was compelled to be content with this poor comfort.
Though Browne had already breakfasted in the solid, substantial English fashion, he was only too glad to persuade Madame Bernstein and his sweetheart to partake of déjeuner at one of the famous cafés on the Boulevards. After the meal Madame returned to the Rue Jacquarie in order to finish a little packing, which she had left to the last moment; while Browne, who had been looking forward to this opportunity, assumed possession of Katharine, and carried her to one of the large shops in the Rue de la Paix, where he purchased for her the best dressing-bag ever obtained for love or money; to which he added a set of sables that would have turned even Russian Royalty green with envy. Never had his money seemed so useful to Browne. These commissions executed, they returned to the Rue Jacquarie, where they found Madame Bernstein ready for the journey. The express was due to leave Paris for Marseilles at 2.15 p.m. Twenty minutes before that hour a cab drove up to the door, and in it Browne placed Madame Bernstein and Katherine, following them himself. Wonderful is the power of a gift! Browne carried the bag, he had given Katherine that morning, down to the cab with his own hands, and without being asked to do so, placed it on the seat beside her. He noticed that her right hand went out to take it, and held it lovingly until they reached the station, where she surrendered it to him again.
When they made their appearance on the platform an official hurried forward to meet them, and conducted them forthwith to the special saloon carriage Browne had bespoken for their use that morning. As she stepped into it Katherine gave a little grateful glance at her lover to show that she appreciated his generosity. Poor as she had always been, she found it hard to realize what his wealth meant. And yet there were many little signs to give her evidence of the fact — the obsequious railway officials; his own majestic English servant, who brought them a sheaf of papers without being instructed to do so; and last, but by no means least, the very railway carriage itself, which was of the most luxurious description. On Madame Bernstein entering the compartment she placed herself in a corner, arranged her travelling-rug, her smelling-salts, her papers, and her fan to her satisfaction; and by the time she had settled down the journey had commenced. The train was an express, and did not stop until it reached Laroche at 4.40. Here afternoon tea was............