In the late afternoon, David said, “We’d better get started home, Kate. We have a long ride.”
“Not yet.” Kate turned to Banda. “Tell me about the sharks…”
From that time on, whenever David was in town, Kate made him take her to visit Banda and his family.
David’s assurance that Kate would grow out of her high-spiritedness showed no signs of coming to pass. If anything, she grew more willful every day. She flatly refused to take part in any of the activities that other girls her age participated in. She insisted on going into the mines with David, and he took her hunting and fishing and camping. Kate adored it. One day when Kate and David were fishing the Vaal, and Kate gleefully pulled in a trout larger than anything David had caught, he said, “You should have been born a boy.”
She turned to him in annoyance. “Don’t be silly, David. Then I couldn’t marry you.”
David laughed.
“We are going to be married, you know.”
“I’m afraid not, Kate. I’m twenty-two years older than you. Old enough to be your father. You’ll meet a boy one day, a nice young man—”
“I don’t want a nice young man,” she said wickedly. “I want you.”
“If you’re really serious,” David said, “then I’ll tell you the secret to a man’s heart.”
“Tell me!” Kate said eagerly.
“Through his stomach. Clean that trout and let’s have lunch.”
There was not the slightest doubt in Kate’s mind that she was going to marry David Blackwell. He was the only man in the world for her.
Once a week Margaret invited David to dinner at the big house. As a rule, Kate preferred to eat dinner in the kitchen with the servants, where she did not have to mind her manners. But on Friday nights when David came, Kate sat in the big dining room. David usually came alone, but occasionally he would bring a female guest and Kate would hate her instantly.
Kate would get David alone for a moment and say, with sweet innocence, “I’ve never seen hair that shade of blond,” or, “She certainly has peculiar taste in dresses, hasn’t she?” or, “Did she use to be one of Madam Agnes’s girls?”
When Kate was fourteen, her headmistress sent for Margaret. “I run a respectable school, Mrs. McGregor. I’m afraid your Kate is a bad influence.”
Margaret sighed. “What’s she done now?”
“She’s teaching the other children words they’ve never heard before.” Her face was grim. “I might add, Mrs. McGregor, that I’ve never heard some of the words before. I can’t imagine where the child picked them up.”
Margaret could. Kate picked them up from her street friends. Well, Margaret decided, it is time to end all that.
The headmistress was saying, “I do wish you would speak to her. We’ll give her another chance, but—”
“No. I have a better idea. I’m going to send Kate away to school.”
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When Margaret told David her idea, he grinned. “She’s not going to like that.”
“I can’t help it. Now the headmistress is complaining about the language Kate uses. She gets it from those prospectors she’s always following around. My daughter’s starting to sound like them, look like them and smell like them. Frankly, David, I don’t understand her at all. I don’t know why she behaves as she does. She’s pretty, she’s bright, she’s—”
“Maybe she’s too bright.”
“Well, too bright or not, she’s going away to school.”
When Kate arrived home that afternoon, Margaret broke the news to her.
Kate was furious. “You’re trying to get rid of me!”
“Of course I’m not, darling. I just think you’d be better off—”
“I’m better off here. All my friends are here. You’re trying to separate me from my friends.”
“If you’re talking about that riffraff you—”
“They’re not riffraff. They’re as good as anybody.”
“Kate, I’m not going to argue with you. You’re going away to a boarding school for young ladies, and that’s that.”
“I’ll kill myself,” Kate promised.
“All right, darling. There’s a razor upstairs, and if you look around, I’m sure you’ll find various poisons in the house.”