Kate’s heart swelled, and without speaking she entered her own room, thinking how hard it was to have even the pleasure of hoping for ease and enjoyment taken away.
When she came down, she found her aunt—as she believed—warning her uncle against her being left to herself; and then came, “If she should be too much for Emily, only send a note, and Bartley or I will come to fetch her home.”
“She wants him to think me a little wild beast!” thought Kate; but her uncle answered, “Emily always knows how to deal with children. Good-bye.”
“To deal with children! What did that mean?” thought the Countess, as she stepped along by the side of her uncle, not venturing to speak, and feeling almost as shy and bewildered as when she was on the world alone.
He did not speak, but when they came to a crossing of a main street, he took her by the hand; and there was something protecting and comfortable in the feel, so that she did not let go; and presently, as she walked on, she felt the fingers close on hers with such a quick tight squeeze, that she looked up in a fright and met the dark eye turned on her quite soft and glistening. She did not guess how he was thinking of little clasping hands that had held there before; and he only said something rather hurriedly about avoiding some coals that were being taken in through a round hole in the pavement.
Soon they were at the hotel; and Mrs. Umfraville came out of her room with that greeting which Kate liked so much, helped her to take off her cloak and smooth her hair, and then set her down to breakfast.
It was a silent meal to Kate. Her uncle and aunt had letters to read, and things to consult about that she did not understand; but all the time there was a kind watch kept up that she had what she liked; and Aunt Emily’s voice was so much like the deep notes of the wood-pigeons round Oldburgh, that she did not care how long she listened to it, even if it had been talking Hindostanee!
As soon as breakfast was over, the Colonel took up his hat and went out; and Mrs. Umfraville said, turning to Kate, “Now, my dear, I have something for you to help me in; I want to unpack some things that I have brought home.”
“Oh, I shall like that!” said Kate, feeling as if a weight was gone with the grave uncle.
Mrs. Umfraville rang, and asked to have a certain box brought in. Such a box, all smelling of choice Indian wood; the very shavings that stuffed it were delightful! And what an unpacking! It was like nothing but the Indian stall at the Baker Street Bazaar! There were two beautiful large ivory work-boxes, inlaid with stripes and circles of tiny mosaic; and there were even more delicious little boxes of soft fragrant sandal wood, and a set of chessmen in ivory. The kings were riding on elephants, with canopies over their heads, and ladders to climb up by; and each elephant had a tiger in his trunk. Then the queens were not queens, but grand viziers, because the queen is nobody in the East: and each had a lesser elephant; the bishops were men riding on still smaller elephants; the castles had camels, the knights horses; and the pawns were little foot-soldiers, the white ones with guns, as being European troops, the red ones with bows and arrows. Kate was perfectly delighted with these men, and looked at and admired them one by one, longing to play a game with them. Then there was one of those wonderful clusters of Chinese ivory balls, all loose, one within the other, carved in different patterns of network, and there were shells spotted and pink-mouthed, card-cases, red shining boxes, queer Indian dolls; figures in all manner of costumes, in gorgeous colours, painted upon shining transparent talc or on soft rice-paper. There was no describing how charming the sight was, nor how Kate dwelt upon each article; and how pleasantly her aunt explained what it was intended for, and where it came from, answering all questions in the nicest, kindest way. When all the wool and shavings had been pinched, and the curled-up toes of the slippers explored, so as to make sure that no tiny shell nor ivory carving lurked unseen, the room looked like a museum; and Mrs. Umfraville said, “Most of these things were meant for our home friends: there is an Indian scarf and a Cashmere shawl for your two aunts, and I believe the chessmen are for Lord de la Poer.”