“Now, indeed, is your Ladyship completely beyond me.”
“Had you felt that I was as much 'above' you, Miss Henderson, it were more to the purpose.”
“I sincerely hope that I have never forgotten all the deference I owe your Ladyship,” said Kate. Nor could humble words have taken a more humble accent; and yet they availed little to conciliate her to whom they were addressed; nay, this very humility seemed to irritate and provoke her to a greater show of temper, as with an insolent laugh she said,—“This mockery of respect never imposed on we, young lady. I have been bred and born in a rank where real deference is so invariable that the fictitious article is soon detected, had there been any hardy enough to attempt it.”
Kate made no other answer to this speech than a deep inclination of her head. It might mean assent, submission, anything.
“You may remember, Miss Henderson,” said her Ladyship, with all the formality of a charge in her manner,—“you may remember that on the day I engaged your services you were obliging enough to furnish me with a brief summary of your acquirements.” She paused, as if expecting some intimation of assent, and after an interval of a few seconds, Kate smiled, and said,—“It must have been a very meagre catalogue, my Lady.”
“Quite the reverse. It was a perfect marvel to me how you ever found time to store your mind with such varied information; and yet, notwithstanding that imposing array of accomplishments, I now find that your modesty—perhaps out of deference to my ignorance—withheld fully as many more.”
Kate's look of bewilderment at this speech was the only reply she made.
“Oh, of course you do not understand me,” said Lady Dorothea, sneeringly; “but I mean to be most explicit. Have you any recollection of the circumstance I allude to?”
“I remember perfectly the day, madam, I waited on you for the first time.”
“That's exactly what I mean. Now, pray, has any portion of our discourse dwelt upon your mind?”