She was now ‘that interfering, disagreeable thing,’ to the two girls. Nevertheless, as was right, in consideration of Miss Courtenay’s age, Edith, the sensible one, accompanied her mother.
‘I am the best one to go,’ said Edith to her mother. ‘For Minnie, I am sure, would lose her temper, and it is much best not to throw her into temptation.’
‘You must be quite sure you can resist the temptation yourself,’ said Mrs. Hardwick, who had brought up her children very well indeed, and had early taught them to identify and struggle against their specially besetting sins.
‘You know, mamma, though I am sure I am a great deal worse in other things, this kind of temptation is not my danger,’ said Edith; and with this satisfactory arrangement, the party took its way to the Hall.
Kate, in the flutter of joyous excitement which attended the new change in her fortunes, was quite a new creature—not the same who had called at the Rectory, and surprised and offended them. She had forgotten all about her own naughtiness. She seized upon Edith, and drew her into a corner, eager for a listener.
‘Oh! do you know I am going away?’ she said. ‘Have you ever been away from home? Have you been abroad? Did you ever go to live among people whom you never saw before? That is what I am going to do.’
‘Oh! I am so sorry for you!’ said Edith, glad, as she afterwards explained to her mother, to be able to say something which should at once be amiable and true.
‘Sorry!’ said Kate—‘oh! don’t be sorry. I am very glad. I am going to my aunt, who is fond of me, though I never saw her. Going to people who are fond of you is different–’
‘Are you fond of her?’ said Edith.
‘I never saw her,’ said Kate, opening her eyes.
Here was an opportunity to be instructive such as seldom occurred, even in the schools where Miss Edith’s gift was known. The young sage laid her hand upon Kate’s, who was considerably surprised by the unlooked-for affectionateness. ‘I am older than you,’ said Edith—‘I am quite grown up. You will not mind my speaking to you? Oh! do you know, dear, what is the best way to make people fond of you?’
‘No.’
‘To love them,’ said Edith, with fervour. Kate looked at her with calm, reflective, fully-opened eyes.
‘If you can,’ she said—‘but then how can you? Besides, it is their business to begin; they are older; they ought to know more about it—to be more in the way; Uncle Courtenay, for instance– I am sure you are very good—a great deal better than I am; but could you be fond of him?’
‘If he was my uncle—if it was my duty,’ said Edith.
‘Oh! I don’t know about duty,’ said Kate, shaking back her abundant locks. The idea did not all commend itself to her mind. ‘It is one’s duty to learn lessons,’ she went on, ‘and keep one’s temper, and not to talk too much, and that sort of thing; but to be fond of people– However, never mind; we can talk of that another time. We are going on Monday, and I never was out of Langton-Courtenay for a single night in all my life before.’
‘Poor child!—what a trial for you!’ said Edith.
At this moment Mrs. Hardwick struck in—‘After the first is over, I am sure you will like it very much,’ she said. ‘It will be such a change. Of course it is always trying to leave home for the first time.’
‘Trying!’ cried Kate; and she rose up in the very restlessness of delight, with her eyes shining, and her hair streaming behind her. But what was the use of discussing it? Of course they could not understand. It was easier to show them over the house and the grounds than to explain her feelings to them. And both Mrs. Hardwick and Edith were deeply impressed by the splendour of Langton-Courtenay. They gave little glances at Kate of mingled surprise and admiration. After all, they felt, the possessor of such a place—the owner of the lands which stretched out as far as they could see—ought to be excused if she was a little different from other girls. ‘What a temptation it must be!’ Edith whispered to her mother; and it pleased Mrs. Hardwick to see how tolerant of other people’s difficulties her child was. Kate grew quite excited by their admiration. She rushed over all the house, leading them into a hundred quaint corners. ‘I shall fill it from top to bottom when I am of age,’ she said. ‘All those funny bedrooms have been so dreadfully quiet and lonely since ever I was born; but it shall be gay when my time comes.’
‘Oh! hush, my dear,’ said pious Mrs. Hardwick—‘don’t make so sure of the future, when we don’t know what a day or an hour may bring forth.’
‘Well,’ said Kate, holding her position stoutly, ‘if anything happens, of course there is an end of it; but if nothing happens—if I live, and all that—oh! I just wish I was one-and-twenty, to show you what I should do!’
‘Do you think it will make you happy to be so gay?’ said Edith, but with a certain wistful inquiry in her eyes, which was not like her old superiority.
‘Oh! my dear children, hush!’ repeated her mother—‘don’t talk like this. In the first place, gaiety is nothing—it is good neither for body nor soul; and besides, I cannot let you chatter so about the future. You will forgive me, my dear Miss Courtenay, for I am an old-fashioned person; but when we think how little we know about the future;—and your life will be an important one—a lesson and an example to so many. We ought to try to make ourselves of use to our fellow-creatures—and you must endeavour that the example should be a good one.’
‘Fancy me an example!’ said Kate, half to herself; and then she was silent, with a philosophy beyond her years. She did not attempt to argue; she had wit enough to see that it would be useless, and to pass on to another subject. But as she ran along the corridor, and into all the rooms, the thought of what she would make of them, when she came back, went like wine through her thrilling veins. She was glad to go away—far more glad than any one could imagine who had never lived the grey, monotonous routine of such an existence, uncheered by companions, unwarmed by love. But she would also be glad to come back—glad to enter splendidly, a young queen among her court. Her head was almost turned by this sublime idea. She would come back with new friends, new principles, new laws; she would be Queen absolute, without partner or help; she would be the lawgiver, redresser of wrongs. Her supremacy would be beneficent as the reign of an ideal sovereign; but she would be supreme!
When her visitors left, she stood on the threshold of her own house, looking with shining eyes into that grand future. The shadows had all faded from her mind. She had almost forgotten, in the excitement of her new plans, all about Miss Blank’s sharp words, and the people who hated her. It would have surprised her had any one called that old figment to her recollection. Hate! there was nothing like it in that future. There was power and beneficence, and mirth and brightness. There was everything that was gay, everything that was beautiful; smiles, and bright looks, and wit, and unbounded novelty; and herself the dispenser of everything pleasant, herself always supreme! This was the dream of the future which framed itself in Kate Courtenay’s thoughts.
CHAPTER X
While all this agitation was going on over Kate’s fate on one side, it is not to be supposed that there was no excitement on the other. Her two relations, the mother and daughter to whom she was about to be confided, were nearly as much disturbed as Kate herself by the prospect of receiving her. It might, indeed, be said to have disturbed them more, for it affected their entire life. They had lately returned to England, and settled down, after a wandering life, in a house of their own. They were not rich, but they had enough. They were not humble, but accustomed to think very well of themselves;
