Countess Kate

it I can do! I'm going to

strike eleve

ip up! What a tre

one moment before dinner! Oh, horr

w I hate hearing

re than having no one

it. What on earth

oman to speak to

it is to mind her poor little sisters. Oh de

at all; besides, it is wrong t

s quantity of money. Then Papa should have a pretty parsonage, like the one at Shagton; a

rden with a hothous

e not to have to mind one's clothes always? Yes, you laugh; but it comes easier to you; an

ou do see," said

ll get upon the thor

this sum; and then if Mary is not come, s

such a picture, and tell you al

with books and piano; and the furniture, though carefully protected with brown ho

eatures and complexion; though their dress, very dark grey linsey, and brown holland aprons, was exactly the same, except that Sylvia's was enlivened by scarlet braid, Kate's darkened by black-and moreover, Kate's apron was s

ound and rosy, of the other thin and dark; and one pair of eyes were of honest grey, while the others were large and hazel, with blue whites. Kate's little hand was so slight, that Sylvia's strong fingers could almost crush it together, but it was far less effective in any sort of handiwork; and her slim neatly-made f

ome the charge of her mother's sister, Mrs. Wardour, and had grown up in the little parsonage belonging to the district church of St. James's, Oldburg

had been at a boarding-school to fit her for educating them. Mr. Wardour too taught them a good deal himself, an

sides his office in Oldburgh, had a very pretty house and grounds two miles beyond St.

d of going to the university and becoming a clergyman like his father; nor how cheerfully Armyn had agreed to do whatever would best lighten his father

and indulging in another tremendous yawn; "we can't d

ng everything in the interest of her drawing on a

pointing to an outline of a young lady whose wealth was denoted by the flounces (or rather s

Lady Ethelinda; isn't that a pretty

ld not do men and boys, Kate; their leg

That is Lady Ethelinda's dear good cousin, Maximilian; he is a

like A

of books. And I would draw a pony, only I never can nicely; but look here,"-Kate went on drawing as she spoke-"here is La

as jagged in their drapery as the flames and presently Lady Ethelinda appeared before a counter (such a counter! sloping like a desk in the attempt at perspective, but it conveniently concealed the shopman's legs,) buying very peculiar garments for the sufferers. A

e the words pronounced in Kate's shrill key of eagerness,

a tall, grave-looking man;

I was drawing," said Kate

ld, indeed we have-" began Sylvia; "

looking embarrassed and uncomfortable, s

her musingly; but Kate was too much pleased at his giving any sort of heed to her per

see there, she is giving presents to all her cousins; and there she is buying new clo

her hands into one of his, and looked earnestly into her face, so gravely that she grew

very strange piece of news about you, and I am very an

reat-uncle in India be come home, and want her to make him a visit in London?

ou know that your cousin, Lord Caergwen

me put this black braid on my frock; and a very ho

r. Wardour. "I thought the title went to heirs-male, and that Colonel Umfraville was the present earl

said Kate, going on with one part of his s

or it," said Mr. Wardour, half smiling. "As your grandfath

tent on the marks of the needle on the en

n, and opening her eyes, cried out, "The title!

h a smile, but rather sadly. "Our l

ylvia, like an India-rubber ball, had bounded sheer

ger kept her still and silent. He wanted to

epeated; "that's not so pretty

ll always be Katharine to those that love you best.

nished. "Are you sorry, Mar

lose our little Kat

Oh no, never! Doesn't Caergwent Castle belong to me? Then you must all come and live with me there; and you shall ha

melancholy look on Mr. Wardour's face rather

, "you and I have

people at Caergwent as poor as they are here. Cou

a child, differeth in nothing from a servant, but is under tutors and governors.'

pastor and master," said Kate. "I always say so whenever

s of a court in London, that is called the Court of Chancery, to provide that proper care is taken of young heirs and heiresses and t

t I may live with my own pap

ust be brought up in a way to fit theirs. And besides," he added more sadly, "nobody t

stranger; but somehow any reference to the sorrow of the household always made her anxious to get away from

Barbara and Lady Jane Umfraville, are kind enough to offer to tak

r in a moment to see how it looked, before opening the letter, and reading:-"'My dear Niece,'-dear m

lanchol

o; non

event," su

ite on purpose for one not to read them.-'Melancholy event th

s!-Kate

orrors," said the little

nse, Kate," said Mr. Wardour;

d it to you?

ain your present address. And likewise, the shock of your poor cousin's death so seriously affected my sister's health in her delicat

ars," said Mr. Wardour; "and your other

a happy home for you; and will engage a lady to superintend your education, and give you all the advantages to which you are entitled. We have already had an interview with a very admirable perso

ur!" exclai

o herself, but in such a hurt tone, that her father looked up with grave reproof in his eyes, as if

le niece, your affectionate aunt, Barbara Umfraville.' Then I am to go and live with them!" said

te that," said Mr. Wardour; "but per

t separation. Everything had hitherto been in common between her and Kate, and that what was good for

me in London, and see the Zoological Gardens and th

o is to write to your aunt, and thank her for her kind letter; and say that I will brin

"I sha'n't be near so much

little girl in a long vehement embrace. "My little Kate! my little Kate! I little thou

y," she said, disengaging herself; "never mind; I shall always come and see you; and when I grow up, you shall come to li

red book abou

d, "there is an immense fat red and gold book

even you, my Lady Countess, can't

o sit down quietly, or quite to know what she was about. She went skipping restlessly about from one chair to another, chattering fast about what she would do, and wondering what the aunts would be like, a

Mary is so cro

She was as fond of Kate as of her own sisters, and was not only sorry to part with