When, however, she heard the patter of Hilda’s heedless slippers in the corridor, she blew out the candle in a hurry, pinched the glowing wick, and skipped into bed. She might take an artistic pleasure in braving rules, but Katherine knew that Hilda would have shown an almost dull amazement at her occupation; and although Katherine characterized it as dull, she did not care to arouse it. She wished to stand well in Hilda’s eyes in all things. Hilda must find nothing to criticise in her either mentally or morally.
“What shall we do if the horses are sold?” she exclaimed, as Hilda got into the little bed beside hers. “Only imagine! no hunting next winter! at least, none for us!”
“Poor papa,” Hilda sighed.
“Oh, you may be sure that he will keep one hunter at least, but of course he will be dreadfully cut off from it with only one, and of course our horses will have to go if the worst comes to the worst. You won’t miss it as much as I will, Hilda; the riding, yes, no doubt, but not the hunting. Still Lord Mainwaring will give us a mount, and now that Mr. Odd is here, he will be sure to have a lot of horses. The old squire let everything of that sort run down so, Miss Odd had only two hunters. Well, Hilda, and what do you think of Mr. Odd?”
“Oh, I love him, Katherine!” Hilda lay looking with wide eyes into the soft darkness of the room. The windows were open, and the drawn chintz curtains flapped gently against the sills.
“I wouldn’t say that if I were you, Hilda,” Katherine remarked, with some disapproval.
“Why not?” Hilda’s voice held an alarmed note. Katherine was, to a great extent, her mentor.
“It doesn’t sound very—dignified. Of course you are only a little girl, but still—one doesn’t say such things.”
“But I do love him; how can one help loving a person who treats one so kindly. And then—anyway—even if he had not been kind to me I should love him, I think.”
Hilda would have liked to be able properly to analyze her sensations and win her sister’s approval; but how explain clearly?