“He did nothing,” gasped Kate; “I was only Hermione.”
“Yes, that’s all, Papa,” repeated Ernest; “it is all the fault of the plaster.”
And a sort of explanation was performed between the two children, at which Lord de la Poer could hardly keep his gravity, though he was somewhat vexed at the turn affairs had taken. He was not entirely devoid of awe of the Lady Barbara, and would have liked his children to be on their best behaviour before her.
“Well,” he said, “I am glad there is no worse harm done. You had better defer your statueship till we can find you a sounder pedestal, Lady Caergwent.”
“Oh! call me Kate,” whispered she in his ear, turning redder than the fright had made her.
He smiled, and patted her hand; then added, “We must go and beg pardon, I suppose; I should not wonder if the catastrophe had damaged Aunt Jane the most; and if so, I don’t know what will be done to us!”
He was right; Lady Barbara had only satisfied herself that no bones had been broken, and then turned back to reassure her sister; but Lady Jane could not be frightened without suffering for it, and was lying back on the sofa, almost faint with palpitation, when Lord de la Poer, with Kate’s hand in his, came to the door, looking much more consciously guilty than his son, who on the whole was more diverted than penitent at the commotion they had made.
Lady Barbara looked very grand and very dignified, but Lord de la Poer was so grieved for Lady Jane’s indisposition, that she was somewhat softened; and then he began asking pardon, blending himself with the children so comically, that in all her fright and anxiety, Kate wondered how her aunt could help laughing.
It never was Lady Barbara’s way to reprove before a guest; but this good gentleman was determined that she should not reserve her displeasure for his departure, and he would not go away till he had absolutely made her promise that his little friend, as he called Kate, should hear nothing more about anything that had that day taken place.
Lady Barbara kept her promise. She uttered no reproof either on her niece’s awkward greeting, her abrupt conversation and its tendency to pertness, nor on the loudness of the unlucky game and the impropriety of climbing; nor even on what had greatly annoyed her, the asking for the subscription to the church. There was neither blame nor punishment; but she could not help a certain cold restraint of manner, by which Kate knew that she was greatly displeased, and regarded her as the most hopeless little saucy romp that ever maiden aunt was afflicted with.