Mr. Wardour bowed, and assented.
“But,” added Lady Barbara, “it has made it quite impossible for my sister and myself to continue to take the charge of her. My sister’s health has suffered from the constant noise and restlessness of a child in the house: the anxiety and responsibility are far too much for her; and in addition to this, she had such severe nervous seizures from the alarm of my niece’s elopement, that nothing would induce me to subject her to a recurrence of such agitation. We must receive the child for the present, of course; but as soon as my brother returns, and can attend to business, the matter must be referred to the Lord Chancellor, and an establishment formed, with a lady at the head, who may have authority and experience to deal with such an ungovernable nature.”
“Perhaps,” said Mr. Wardour, “under these circumstances it might be convenient for me to take her home again for the present.”
Kate quivered with hope; but that was far too good to be true; Lady Barbara gave a horrid little cough, and there was a sound almost of offence in her “Thank you, you are very kind, but that would be quite out of the question. I am at present responsible for my niece.”
“I thought, perhaps,” said Mr. Wardour, as an excuse for the offer, “that as Lady Jane is so unwell, and Colonel Umfraville in so much affliction, it might be a relief to part with her at present.”
“Thank you,” again said Lady Barbara, as stiffly as if her throat were lined with whalebone; “no inconvenience can interfere with my duty.”
Mr. Wardour knew there was no use in saying any more, and inquired after Lady Jane. She had, it appeared, been very ill on Saturday evening, and had not since left her room. Mr. Wardour then said that Kate had not been aware, till a few hours ago, of the death of her cousin, and inquired anxiously after the father and mother; but Lady Barbara would not do more than answer direct questions, and only said that her nephew had been too much weakened to bear the journey, and had sunk suddenly at Alexandria, and that his father was, she feared, very unwell. She could not tell how soon he was likely to be in England. Then she thanked Mr. Wardour for having brought Lady Caergwent home, and offered him some luncheon; but in such a grave grand way, that it was plain that she did not want him to eat it, and, feeling that he could do no more good, he kissed poor Kate and wished Lady Barbara good-bye.
Poor Kate stood, drooping, too much constrained by dismay even to try to cling to him, or run after him to the foot of the stairs.
“Now, Katharine,” said her aunt, “come up with me to your Aunt Jane’s room. She has been so much distressed about you, that she will not be easy till she has seen you.”
Kate followed meekly; and found Aunt Jane sitting by the fire in her own room, looking flushed, hot, and trembling. She held out her arms, and Kate ran into them; but neither of them dared to speak, and Lady Barbara stood up, saying, “She says she is very sorry, and thus we may forgive her; as I know you do all the suffering you have undergone on her account.”