“Well, but I don’t see what would be the pleasure.”
“What, do you consider it pleasurable to be universally forgotten?”
“Nobody ever could forget Pa—my Uncle Wardour,” cried Kate, with eager vehemence flashing in her eyes.
“Certainly not,” said Lord de la Poer, in a voice as if he were much pleased with her; “he is not a man to be forgotten. It is a privilege to have been brought up by him. But come, Lady Caergwent, since you are so critical, will you be pleased to devise some message for me, that may combine use, pleasure, and my deep respect for him?” and as she sat beside him at the table, he laid his hand on hers, so that she felt that he really meant what he said.
She sat fixed in deep thought; and her aunts, who had been miserable all through the conversation, began to speak of other things; but in the midst the shrill little voice broke in, “I know what!” and good-natured Lord de la Poer turned at once, smiling, and saying, “Well, what?”
“If you would help in the new aisle! You know the church is not big enough; there are so many people come into the district, with the new ironworks, you know; and we have not got half room enough, and can’t make more, though we have three services; and we want to build a new aisle, and it will cost £250, but we have only got £139 15s. 6d. And if you would but be so kind as to give one sovereign for it—that would be better than remembrances and respects, and all that sort of thing.”
“I rather think it would,” said Lord de la Poer; and though Lady Barbara eagerly exclaimed, “Oh! do not think of it; the child does not know what she is talking of. Pray excuse her—” he took out his purse, and from it came a crackling smooth five-pound note, which he put into the hand, saying, “There, my dear, cut that in two, and send the two halves on different days to Mr. Wardour, with my best wishes for his success in his good works. Will that do?”
Kate turned quite red, and only perpetrated a choked sound of her favourite —q. For the whole world she could not have said more: but though she knew perfectly well that anger and wrath were hanging over her, she felt happier than for many a long week.
Presently the aunts rose, and Lady Barbara said to her in the low ceremonious voice that was a sure sign of warning and displeasure, “You had better come up stairs with us, Katharine, and amuse Lord Ernest in the back drawing-room while his father is engaged with us.”
Kate’s heart leapt up at the sound “amuse.” She popped her precious note into her pocket, bounded up-stairs, and opened the back drawing-room door for her playfellow, as he brought up the rear of the procession.