Free The Young Clementina by D. E. Stevenson Page A

Corrieston is the very man. We met him out at a dinner at the Eltons’—Garth couldn’t bear him—Garth doesn’t like people who are clever and amusing. Mr. Corrieston’s the very man—you needn’t come, Charlotte.”
    â€œWouldn’t you like me to come?” I inquired in surprise.
    â€œNo,” she said. “It will be better for me to see him alone first. I know him, you see, so it will be quite all right. And I can explain better—there’s absolutely no need for you to come. I’ll go and see Mr. Corrieston now, this very minute—I can’t rest till I’ve seen him.”
    She went.
    I didn’t know the man’s name then, but I came to know it only too well in the weeks that followed. Kitty came up from Hinkleton constantly and had interminable interviews with him. She quoted what he said. “Mr. Corrieston said so,” was the last word in any discussion. Mr. Corrieston said I was not to go and see Garth; it would be a confession of weakness. Mr. Corrieston said that Garth’s neglect of Kitty must on no account be mentioned in court, it would create a wrong impression. Mr. Corrieston said it would be all right if Kitty said this, and that, and forbore to say the other.
    I confess the whole affair was beyond my comprehension. I never felt that I understood it. I never got to the bottom of the matter. It was hopeless to question Kitty; she contradicted herself flatly again and again. I tried to find out what her feelings were. Deep down beneath the rage against Garth, which bubbled continually upon the surface, she must surely have some feelings about him. I tried to question her—did she still love him?
    â€œLove him!” she cried. “How could I possibly love him? He was unbearable. He was always sneering at me in that horrid way—you know that sneering way he looks at you as if you were the greatest fool God ever made. (I was , of course, when I married him.) George was sorry for me; he used to take me to shows. I met him sometimes in town for lunch. I knew Garth was jealous of George Hamilton but I didn’t care. And then I found that I was being followed.”
    â€œFollowed?”
    â€œYes, followed by a detective— Garth had me followed . Did you ever hear of such a beastly thing? He was a horrible little man in a bowler, he followed me when I went to town and met George. He followed me to your flat the night I stayed with you—that’s why I was so upset. It was so dreadful for George—the whole thing is dreadful for George. I wish you could meet him, Charlotte, but Mr. Corrieston says it will be better if you don’t meet him, better if you don’t know him at all. George is so quiet and—and good-natured, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s amusing too; he’s not a dull, dreary creature like Garth.”
    â€œThen why not let the divorce go through?” I asked her, bewildered by the whole thing. “If you like Mr. Hamilton, and your life with Garth is unbearable.”
    â€œGood God!” she cried. “You must be mad to suggest such a thing, Charlotte. Do you think I should let Garth drag me through the mud? Do you think I should let him do what he likes without raising a finger to defend myself? And as for George, he would bore me in a month. He bores me already.”
    â€œThere’s Clementina, of course,” I said, thinking perhaps I had found the solution of Kitty’s attitude in her love for her child.
    â€œOh, Clem!” said Kitty, listless after her outburst. “Clem is a funny sort of creature—a dull, plain child. I don’t know how on earth I could ever have had a child like Clem. George says the same. She’s frightfully unattractive.”
    I could make no sense of it, no sense at all.
    Garth had returned from Wales and was staying at his flat in town. I met him one day in the park and he raised his hat to me with a grave