Countess Kate

ng that she was unwell, and begging for a fortnight's grace. At the fortnight's end came another letter; to which Lady Barbara answered

inconvenience she was causing. Her son and her doctor had insisted on her resigning her situ

too much for her. I wish we could have made her more

etion, such as might have been expected from a girl of eleven years old towards a person in her circumstances, wo

ly thoughtless and almost unkind, or to recollect how differently her own gentle Sylvia at home would have behaved

the why, but was excessively delighted with plans for meeting, hopes of walks, talks, and tea-drinkings together; promises that the other dear Sylvia should come to meet her; and above al

ughed rather dryly. In the bag were a great many small white shells done up in twists of paper, that pretty story "The Blue Ribbons," and a small blank book, in which, whenever the train stopped, Kate wrote with all her might. For Kate had a desire to convince Sylvia Joanna tha

blue on a t

d her bell

hrough a great deal from the gardeners. There was to be a pretty fairy picture to every verse; and it would make a charming birthday present, much nic

seemed to lay hold of Kate as soon as she set foot in the house in Br

to greet her, no one to hear her adventures, and remembered that she had worried the poor widow, and that she would never come back again, she could have cried, and really had a great mind to write to her, ask her pardon,

Barbara came in, found half a dozen strewn on the floor, and ordered her to put them tidy, and then be dressed. That put her out,

. Lady Barbara was seeking for a governess, but such a lady as she wished for was not to be found in a day; and in the meantime she was

the being told to sit upright, hold her book straight, or pronounce her words rightly, always teased her, and put her out of humour at the beginning. Or she was reminded of some failure of yesterday, and it always seemed to her unjust that bygones should not be bygones; or

er best, and her aunt would have owned it in time; whereas poor Kate's resistance only made herself an

n instant, and would often chatter so that there was no calling her to order, except by showing great determination to tell her aunt. It made her feel both sly and guilty to behave

e and Josephine were usually set down by the carriage together in one of the parks, and appointed where to meet it again after Lady Jane had tak

ant of a bit of India-rubber, and had been sighing because of the displeasure she should meet for having lost her

sented! And then how miserable she was; how afraid of being asked where she had been; how terrified lest he

er the iron rail to a man with a beard; and she told her maid afterwards that it was wrong; but Josephine said, "Miladi had too good a heart

they had not been in the Square garden at all that morning, but in much more entertaining streets! Poor Kate, these dai

ad filled one blank book with her verses and pictures, some rather good, some very bad; and for want of help and correction she was greatly delight

a, let me go to the

ou there, I have

not go with

ou there with her. Besides, you spe

hing to get ready for Sylvia's birthday-t

e of a habit of

spend the day, and go to the Zoological Gardens, and I have all ready bu

red Lady Barbara. "I have told you that I cann

rthday, Aun

Katharine; you ought to k

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. And down came a great tear into the red trimming of British North America

or, who always came to see Lady Jane twice a week, and startled and al

y that I promised I would look at this little lady, just

om his long attendance more intimate with the two sisters than perhaps any other person was. Lady Barbara gave an odd sort of smile, and said, "Oh! very well!" and the old gentleman

re so short," said Kate, whose spirits

ore d

I went to B

ddier tip, quivering like an animal, he laughed again, and said, "Thank you, Lady Caergwent; it is a satisfaction once i

ade a face, and

r, "I may set Lady Jane's mind at rest. N

face in with the board of her atlas. "It is my sister who is the victim, and I cannot have it go on. She is so dreadf

d of the child,"

and then cannot bear to see her reproved. I assure you I am forced for my sister's sake to overlook many thing

morning," said Mr. Mercer: "but that seemed to

; but it is very unlucky, after staying till the war was over, that he has ha

his son's hea

know, and they could not bear to part, or they ought to have sent him home with his mother long ago; and now my brother has rem

you exp

e any certainty, this is so bad for my sister. And just at this very time, without a governess, when some children would be especially thoug

ld, though quick enough to catch what concerns themselves. Thus Kate, though aware that Aunt Barbara thought her naughtiness made Aunt Jane ill, and that there was a fresh threat of the Lord Chancellor upon the return of her great-uncle from India, did not in the least perceive that her Aunt Barbara was greatly perplexed and harassed, divided between

aying that she was going into Belgravia, and desiring them to meet her near Apsley House. They began to w

There was plenty of time. Miladi Barbe had gi

s wrong. She should never dare

afraid of checking Josephine in the open street, and making her dismiss the cab, than of getting into it. Besides, there was a very strong desire in her for the red and gold square book that had imprinted itself on her imagination. She could

but now she was too much frightened and bewildered to do more than hurry along the passages, staring so wildly for her al

phine," said K

yards in a quarter of an hour, and was too shy and afraid of being lost, to wander away and transact her own business. At last they did come to a counter with ornamental stationery; and after looking at four or five books, Kate bought a purple embossed one, not at all what she had had in her mind's eye, just because she was in too great a

riumphant in her certainty that there was time; and on they went, Kate fancying every bay nose that

paying the cabman, set out along the side path, Josephine admonishing her lady tha

le word; but that need not have been surprising-only how very straight her back was, how fixed her marble mouth and chin! It was more like Diana's head than ever-Diana when she was shooting all Niobe's daughters, though

over, end as it would. Yet at last, when the carriage did turn into Bruton Street, fright and shame had so entirely the upper hand, that she read the numbe

d be, when, instead of going upstairs, her aunt opened the schoolroom door, beckoned her in, and said gravely,

n the brightest flash of lightning: and it was well for her that the habit of truth was too much fixed for falsehood or s

efiance of m

rit to speak; "I know it was naughty," she said, looking up; "I ought not. Au

concealment was felt by the little girl; so she told of the shops she had been at, and of her walks in frequented streets, addin

as sternly as ever; "I had thought that wi

you the truth

ng me all this time; you, who ought to set a

hing. "I never spoke one untrue word to you;

untruths. It is deceiving to betr

ved, but not so touched as to make her cry or ask pardon. She knew she had been audaciously disobedient; but it was hard to be accused of betraying t

ope they may warn you, or I cannot tell what is to become of you in your future life, and of all that will depend on you. You must soon be under more strict and watchful care

ve 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 s

, and she managed to dress herself, and run down again unseen; she stood over the fire, so that the housemaid, who brought in her tea, should not see her face; and b

e read on in her book, to hinder herself from feeling uncomfortable. Now and then Aunt Jane said a few soft words about

, and seen in those heavy eyelids, that the troubles of the day had brought on a severe headach

f the "consequences of her actions." Stif

is Jose

one away,

new 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

in his wig, trying to catch her, and stuff her into the woolsack, and Unc