Charlotte M. Yonge

“ Kate’s bright looks sank. That old married-woman sound, Lady Caergwent, seemed as if it would be a bar between her and the free childish fun she hoped for. Yet when so much had been granted, she must not call her aunt cross and unkind, though she did think it hard and proud.
Perhaps she was partly right; but after all, little people cannot judge what is right in matters of familiarity. They have only to do as they are told, and they may be sure of this, that friendship and respect depend much more on what people are in themselves than on what they call one another. ”

“ So what she did say was, “When one has ten children, one reckons upon such things!” and smiled as if they were quite pleasant changes to her.
“Not, I am sure, with your particularly quiet little girls,” said Aunt Barbara. “I am always hoping that Katharine may take example by them.”
“Take care what you hope, Barbara,” said Lady de la Poer, smiling: “and at any rate forgive this poor little maiden for our disaster, or my husband will be in despair.”
“I have nothing to forgive,” said Lady Barbara gravely. “Katharine cannot have seriously expected punishment for what is not a moral fault. ”

“ Lord de la Poer broke out into an uncontrollable laugh, half at the aunt, half at the niece. “Why, she has grown a moustache!” he exclaimed. “Girls, what have you been doing to her?” and walking up to them, he turned Kate round to a mirror, where she beheld her own brown eyes looking out of a face dashed over with black specks, thicker about the mouth, giving her altogether much the colouring of a very dark man closely shaved. It was so exceedingly comical, that she went off into fits of laughing, in which she was heartily joined by all the merry party. ”

“ She screamed louder and louder; and she grew half frightened, half relieved, when she heard his step, and a buzz of voices on the stairs; and then there he was, standing by her, and saying gravely, “What is the matter, Kate?”
“O Papa, Papa, I want—I want Sylvia!—I am afraid!” Then she held her breath, and cowered under the clothes, ready for a scolding; but it was not his angry voice. “Poor child!” he said quietly and sadly. “You must put away this childishness, my dear. You know that you are not really alone, even in a strange place.” ”

“ Meantime, I desire that your Aunt Jane may be spared hearing of this affair, little as you seem to care for her peace of mind.”
And away went Lady Barbara; while Kate, flinging herself upon the sofa, sobbed out, “I do care for Aunt Jane! I love Aunt Jane! I love her ten hundred times more than you! you horrid cross old Diana! But I have deceived! Oh, I am getting to be a wicked little girl! I never did such things at home. Nobody made me naughty there. But it’s the fashionable world. It is corrupting my simplicity. It always does. And I shall be lost! O Mary, Mary! O Papa, Papa! ”

“ Uncle Giles took her down stairs; and when they were in the carriage, in the dark, he seemed to be less shy: he lifted her on his knee and said, “I will talk to your aunt, and we will see how soon you can come to us, my dear.”
“Oh, do let it be soon,” said Kate.
“That must depend upon your Aunt Barbara,” he answered, “and upon law matters, perhaps. And you must not be troublesome to her; she has suffered very much, and will not think of herself, so you must think for her.”
“I don’t know how, Uncle Giles,” said poor sincere Kate. “At home, they always said I had no consideration.” ”

“ When she came down, she found her aunt—as she believed—warning her uncle against her being left to herself; and then came, “If she should be too much for Emily, only send a note, and Bartley or I will come to fetch her home.”
“She wants him to think me a little wild beast!” thought Kate; but her uncle answered, “Emily always knows how to deal with children. Good-bye.”
“To deal with children! What did that mean?” thought the Countess, as she stepped along by the side of her uncle, not venturing to speak, and feeling almost as shy and bewildered as when she was on the world alone. ”

“ She knew Josephine would call it a blackness—a treason. What would become of the poor bright merry Frenchwoman? Should she never see her again? And all because she had not had the firmness to be obedient! Oh, loss of trust! loss of confidence! disobedience! How wicked this place made her! and would there be any end to it?
And all night she was haunted through her dreams with the Lord Chancellor, in his wig, trying to catch her, and stuff her into the woolsack, and Uncle Wardour’s voice always just out of reach. If she could only get to him! ”

“ One can’t do things without boys.”
“No, my dear; boys always spoil girls’ play, they are so rough.”
“Oh! no, no, Aunt Jane; there’s no fun unless one is rough—I mean, not rough exactly; but it’s no use playing unless one makes a jolly good noise.”
“My dear,” said Lady Jane, greatly shocked, “I can’t bear to hear you talk so, nor to use such words.”
“Dear me, Aunt Jane, we say ‘Jolly’ twenty times a day at St. James’s, and nobody minds.”
“Ah! yes, you see you played with boys.”
“But our boys are not rough, Aunt Jane,” persisted Kate, who liked hearing herself talk much better than anyone else. ”

“ Kate was not afraid of her, but her caressing consolations and pity would have only added to the miserable sense of shame; so there was no sign, no symptom of being awake, though it was certain that before Josephine went away, the candle was held so as to cast a light over all that was visible of the face. Kate could not help hearing the low muttering of the Frenchwoman, who was always apt to talk to herself: “Asleep! Ah, yes! She sleeps profoundly. How ugly la petite has made herself! What cries! Ah, she is like Miladi her aunt! a demon of a temper!” ”

“ This was a puzzling question, and Kate did not immediately reply.
“None for pleasure—eh?”
“Well, but I don’t see what would be the pleasure.”
“What, do you consider it pleasurable to be universally forgotten?”
“Nobody ever could forget Pa—my Uncle Wardour,” cried Kate, with eager vehemence flashing in her eyes.
“Certainly not,” said Lord de la Poer, in a voice as if he were much pleased with her; “he is not a man to be forgotten. It is a privilege to have been brought up by him. ”

“ Wardour had taught her on her lips, alone with her God and her good angel—than trying to forget all in idle chatter with her maid, and contrary to known commands, detaining her by foolish excuses?
It is true that Kate did not feel as if obedience to Lady Barbara was the same duty as obedience to “Papa.” Perhaps it was not in the nature of things that she should; but no one can habitually practise petty disobedience to one “placed in authority over” her, without hurting the whole disposition. ”

“ Helpless girl as she was, she would be as brave as the knights and earls her ancestors, and stand up for the truth. But what would they do at her! Oh! could she bear Aunt Barbara’s dreadful set Diana face again, and not write as she was told!
The poor weak little heart shrank with terror as she only looked at Aunt Barbara’s chair—not much like the Sir Giles de Umfraville she had thought of just now. “And I’m naughty now; I did betray my trust: I’m much naughtier than I was. Oh, if Papa was but here!” And then a light darted into Kate’s eye, and a smile came on her lip. ”

“ When Kate recovered her speech, she poured out a wild and very naughty torrent, about being the most unhappy girl in the world; the aunts were always unkind to her; she never got any pleasure; she could not bear being a countess; she only wanted to go back to her old home, to Papa and Mary and Sylvia; and nobody would help her.
Miss Oswald treated the poor child almost as if she had been a little out of her mind, let her say it all between her sobs, and did not try to argue with her, but waited till the talking and the sobbing had fairly tried her out ”

“ This was more like the speeches Kate made in her own head than anything she had ever said to her aunts; and it was quite just besides, and not spoken in naughtiness, and Lady Barbara did not think it wrong to show that she attended to it. “You are right, Katharine,” she said; “no one wishes you to be either proud or ungrateful. I would not wish entirely to prevent you from seeing the children of the family, but it must not be till there is some acquaintance between myself and their mother, and I cannot tell whether you can be intimate with them till I know what sort of children they are. ”

“ She thought it her old friend; but behold, it was her uncle’s voice that said, in the softest gentlest way, “My dear, I never despise where I meet with truth. Tell me how it was; or had you rather tell your Aunt Emily?”
“I’ll tell you,” said Kate, all her fears softened by his touch. “Oh no! please don’t go, Lord de la Poer; I do want you to know, for I couldn’t have played with Grace and Adelaide on false pretences!” And encouraged by her uncle’s tender pressure, she murmured out, “I ran away—I did—I went home!”
“To Oldburgh!” ”

“ Giles, how could you allow it?” cried Lady Barbara, confounded. “That whole family will tell the story, and she will be marked for ever!”
“De la Poer has some knowledge of child nature,” said the Colonel, slightly smiling.
“A gentleman often encourages that sort of child, but condemns her the more. She will be a by-word in that family! I always knew she would be our disgrace!”
“O Giles, do tell Barbara it cannot be so very bad!” entreated Lady Jane. “She is such a child—poor little dear!—and so little used to control!” ”

“ There was to be a pretty fairy picture to every verse; and it would make a charming birthday present, much nicer than anything that could be bought; and Kate kept on smiling to herself as the drawings came before her mind’s eye, and the rhymes to her mind’s ear.
So they came home; but it was odd, the old temper of the former months seemed to lay hold of Kate as soon as she set foot in the house in Bruton Street, as if the cross feelings were lurking in the old corners.
She began by missing Mrs. Lacy very much. The kind soft governess had made herself more loved than the wayward child knew ”

“ As she sat over her geography lesson, out of sight of her own bad writing, her broken-backed illuminated capitals, her lumpy campanulas, crooked-winged fairies, queer perspective, and dabs of blue paint, she saw her performance not as it was, but as it was meant to be, heard her own lines without their awkward rhymes and bits like prose, and thought of the wonder and admiration of all the Wardour family, and of the charms of having it secretly lent about as a dear simple sweet effusion of the talented young countess, who longed for rural retirement. ”

“ Lady Barbara began to betray some restlessness; she really must see what that child was about.
“No, no,” said Lord de la Poer; “leave them in peace. That poor girl will never thrive unless you let her use her voice and limbs. I shall make her come over and enjoy herself with my flock when we come up en masse.”
The explosions were less carefully stifled, and there were some sounds of rushing about, some small shrieks, and then the door shut, and there was a silence again.
By this it may be perceived that Kate and Ernest had become tolerably intimate friends. ”

“ But Kate esteemed it a great holiday, when, as sometimes happened, Aunt Barbara went out to spend the evening with some friends; and she, under promise of being very good, used to be Aunt Jane’s companion.
Those were the times when her tongue took a holiday, and it must be confessed, rather to the astonishment and confusion of Lady Jane.
“Aunt Jane, do tell me about yourself when you were a little girl?”
“Ah! my dear, that does not seem so very long ago. Time passes very quickly. To think of such a great girl as you being poor James’s grandchild!” ”

“ Umfraville went away with Lady Barbara to take off her bonnet.
Colonel Umfraville came and sat down by his sister on the sofa, and said, “Well Jane, how have you been?”
“Oh! much as usual:” and then there was a silence, till she moved a little nearer to him, put her hand on his arm, looked up in his face with swimming eyes, and said, “O Giles! Giles!”
He took her hand, and bent over her, saying, in the same grave steady voice, “Do not grieve for us, Jane. We have a great deal to be thankful for, and we shall do very well.” ”

“ Bartley never allowed dawdling, and with a severely respectful silence made the undressing as brief an affair as possible, brushing her hair till her head tingled all over, putting away the clothes with the utmost speed, and carrying off the candle as soon as she had uttered her grim “Good-night, my Lady,” leaving Kate to choose between her pet terrors—either of the Lord Chancellor, or of the house on fire—or a very fine new one, that someone would make away with her to make way for her Uncle Giles and his son to come to her title. ”

“ The one who sat on the sofa had a plump, smooth, pretty, pink and white face, very soft and pleasant to look at, though an older person than Kate would have perceived that the youthful delicacy of the complexion showed that she had been carefully shut up and sheltered from all exposure and exertion, and that the quiet innocent look of the small features was that of a person who had never had to use her goodness more actively than a little baby. Kate was sure that this was aunt Jane, and that she should get on well with her, though that slow way of speaking was rather wearisome. ”

“ Wardour for having brought Lady Caergwent home, and offered him some luncheon; but in such a grave grand way, that it was plain that she did not want him to eat it, and, feeling that he could do no more good, he kissed poor Kate and wished Lady Barbara good-bye.
Poor Kate stood, drooping, too much constrained by dismay even to try to cling to him, or run after him to the foot of the stairs.
“Now, Katharine,” said her aunt, “come up with me to your Aunt Jane’s room. She has been so much distressed about you, that she will not be easy till she has seen you.” ”

“ Lady Barbara read prayers in the dining-room at nine, and there breakfasted with Kate and Mrs. Lacy, sending up a tray to Lady Jane in her bed-room. Those were apt to be grave breakfasts; not like the merry mornings at home, when chatter used to go on in half whispers between the younger ones, with laughs, breaking out in sudden gusts, till a little over-loudness brought one of Mary’s good-natured “Hushes,” usually answered with, “O Mary, such fun!” ”

“ Kate flung away into the schoolroom, muttering, and in a tumult of exceeding disappointment, anger, and despair, too furious even to cry, and dashing about the room, calling Aunt Barbara after every horrible heroine she could think of, and pitying herself and her friends, till the thought of Sylvia’s disappointment stung her beyond all bearing. ”