Countess Kate

really a countess. She did not find herself any taller or grander; Charlie teased her rather more instead of less and she did not think either Mr. Wardour or Mary or Armyn thought half e

so respectful, and took such pains that she should walk firs

Mary was grieved at her eagerness to leave her happy home, and never guessed at the kind sister's fears for her happiness. She set it all down to what she was wont to call crossness. If Mary had really been a cross or selfish person, all she would have thought of would have been that now there would not be so many rents to mend after Kate's cobbling attempts, nor so many shrill shr

hat was best for the little orphan; but had then explained that he and his wife could not take charge of her, because his regiment was going to India, and she could not go there with them; and that his sisters were prevented from undertaking the care of so young a child by the bad health of the elder, who almost owed her life to the tender nursing of the younger. And as Mrs. Wardour was only eager to keep to herself all that was left of her only sister, and had a nursery of her own, it had been most nat

ladies in a book. They will be dreadfully fashionable! Let me see-Aunt Barbara will have a turban on her head, and a bird of paradise, like the bad old lady in Armyn's book that Mary took away from me; and they will do nothing all day long but try on flounced gowns, and count their jewels, and go out to balls and operas-and they will want me to do the same-and play at cards all Sunday! 'Lady Caergwent,' they will say, 'it is becoming to your position!' And t

untess, and the speech that was to cure the aunts of playing at cards on a Sunday, wearing turbans, and all other enormities, and lead them to live in the country, giving a continual course

a story-book for her; and thus brought her to a most happy state of silent content, w

Mr. Wardour looked for the luggage. She was a little disappointed. She had once seen a carriage go by with four horses, and a single one did not seem at all worthy of her; but she had two chapters more of her stor

erself what had become of the personages of her story, looked up, and saw nothing but dull ho

she said, suddenly

ok tight hold of his hand. Whatever she had been in her day-dreams, she was only his own little frightened Kate now; and she tried

reetings, but did not know what to say, and stood up by Mr. Wardour, hanging down her head, an

ng for a rail on which to set her feet, and failing to find one, twining her ankles round the leg of the chair. She knew very well that this was not pretty; but she never could recollect what was pretty behaviou

ted them together in the middle, and said something meant for "No, thank you;" but of which nothing was to be heard but "q," a

s other things, to which Kate did not greatly listen. She began to let her eyes come out from under her hat brim, and satisfied herself that the a

t them. 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 a

She had a face that put Kate in mind of a picture of a beautiful lady in a book at home-the eyes, forehead, nose, and shape of the chin, were so finely made; and yet there was something in them that made the little girl

ime she had finished trying to make out the subject of a print on the walls, she heard some words that made her think that her aunts were talking of her new governess, and she opened her ears to hear, "So we thought it would be an excellent arrangement for her, poor thi

, P

ost her husband, and is obliged to go out as governess, that she may be able to send her sons t

fit of awkwardness had come over her again, and with it a thought so selfish, that it can hardly be called otherwi

of Mr. Wardour's hand, she added, "You will see Mr. Wardour again after dinner. You had bette

airs like a baby, and lose all that time of Papa's company! She swelled with displeasure: but Aunt Barbara did not look like a person whose orders could be questioned,

d showed her a little long narrow bed-roo

ne to offer you; but it opens into mine, as you see, and my sister's is just be

untidiness, or roughly set to rights by Lily's nurse. She actually exclaimed, "Oh, thank you!" And her aunt waited till the hat

le bolder, but still speaking with her head on one sid

l show you the way. The house is very small," continued Lady Barbara, as they went dow

your little Pupil-Lady Caergwent-Mrs. Lacy," said Lady Barbara. "I hope you will find her a good child. She

ery saddest face she had ever seen-the eyes looked soft and gentle, but as if they had wept till they could weep no longer; and when the question was asked, "Are you tired, my dear?" it was in a sunk tone, tr

at her ease than with her aunts, and answered,

a long j

ate thereupon roamed round the room, peeped from the window and saw that it looked into a dull black-looking narrow garden, and then studied the things in the room. There was a piano, at which she shook her head. Mary had tried to teach her music; but after a daily fret for six weeks, Mr. Wardour had said it was waste of time and temper

look very nice; but before she had gone half way dow

meant; and the maid, running after her, caught her rather

ied she. "Why, I o

lusters all the way down. And your forehea

se painted her brow with London blacks. She made one of her little impatient gestures, and

ut asking endless questions, some of which Mrs. Lacy answered in her sad indifferent way, others she could not answer, and Kate was rather vexed at her not seeming to

te, who always liked mythological stories, went on most eagerly talking about the legend of the youth who was borne away to be the cup-bearer of the gods. It was a thing to make her forget about the aunts and everybody else; and Mr. Wardour helped her out, as he gene

heathen gods, my dear," said Lady Jan

aunt did not know, she went on to say, "there are notes and explanatio

ere!" said aunt Barbara, in the voice K

got any ear;

our's eyes fixed on her rather anxiously, recollected t

ing?" sai

ut I w

fingers, which in her awkwardness she was appar

home bed-time; she bade everyone good-night, and was soon waited

elcome, if only Sylvia had been there. She had never gone to bed without Sylvia in her life. And now she thought with a pang that Sylvia wa

the odd noises and strange sights that terrified her companion. She never believed that the house was on fire, even though the moon made very bright sparkles; she always said the sounds were the serv

ar of carriages in the streets sounded so unnatural, her heart failed her, and the fear of being alone q

y," she said in a trembling

upper, when I have placed my Lady J

ost humble and insinuating voice, "do lea

nswer, in a tone just like that

n sleep; then came the longing yearning for Sylvia, and tears grew hot in them; and by the time Mrs. Bartley had finished her preparations, and gone down, her distress had grown so unbearable, that she absolutely began sobbing aloud, and screaming, "Papa!" She knew he would be very angry, and that she should hear that such f

s, ready for a scolding; but it was not his angry voice. "Poor child!" he said quietly and sadly. "You mu

ut I am afraid-I

verse that helps yo

say it with

my Katie, and think of Sylvia saying it at home in her own room.

" and the rest of the calm words, with which she had been taught t

o do to-night, and other nights when I shall be away: say to yourself the ninety-fi

k I do

dreary, because you will feel Who is with you. I will look i

d to stay awake for