“I am going to send for Captain Martin, Miss Henderson.”
“Do not, I entreat of you,—I implore your Ladyship,” cried Kate, with her clasped hands trembling as she spoke.
“This agitation is not without a cause, and would alone decide me to call for my son.”
“If I have ever deserved well at your hands, my Lady,—if I have served you faithfully in anything,—if my devotion has lightened you of one care, or aided you through one difficulty,—spare me, oh, spare me, I beseech you, this—degradation!”
“I have a higher consideration to consult here, Miss Henderson, than any which can have reference to you.” She pulled the bell violently, and while her hand still held the cord, the servant entered. “Tell Captain Martin to come here,” said she, and sat down.
Kate leaned her arm upon the chimney-piece, and, resting her head on it, never uttered a word.
For several minutes the silence was unbroken on either side. At last Lady Dorothea started suddenly, and said,—“We cannot receive Captain Martin here.”
“Your Ladyship is full of consideration,” said Kate, bitterly. “For a moment I had thought it was only an additional humiliation to which you had destined me.”
“Follow me into the drawing-room, Miss Henderson,” said Lady Dorothea, proudly, as she left the room. And with slow, submissive mien Kate quitted the chamber, and walked after her.
Scarcely had the door of the drawing-room been closed upon them than it was re-opened to admit Captain Martin. He was booted and spurred for his afternoon canter, and seemed in no wise pleased at the sudden interruption to his project.