It was no wonder she did not see the real care for her welfare, and thought this intensely cruel and unkind; but it was a great pity that she visited her vexation on poor Mrs. Lacy, to whom the game was even a greater penance than to herself, especially on a warm day, with a bad headache.
Even in her best days at home, Kate had resisted learning to take thought for others. She had not been considerate of Mary’s toil, nor of Mr. Wardour’s peace, except when Armyn or Sylvia reminded her; and now that she had neither of them to put it into her mind, she never once thought of her governess as one who ought to be spared and pitied. Yet if she had been sorry for Mrs. Lacy, and tried to spare her trouble and annoyance, how much irritability and peevishness, and sense of constant naughtiness, would have been prevented! And it was that feeling of being always naughty that was what had become the real dreariness of Kate’s present home, and was far worse than the music, the battledore, or even the absence of fun.
At last came a message that Lady Caergwent was to be dressed for going out to make a call with Lady Barbara as soon as luncheon was over.
It could be on no one but the De la Poers; and Kate was so delighted, that she executed all manner of little happy hops, skips, and fidgets, all the time of her toilette, and caused many an expostulation of “Mais, Miladi!” from Josephine, before the pretty delicate blue and white muslin, worked white jacket, and white ribboned and feathered hat, were adjusted. Lady Barbara kept her little countess very prettily and quietly dressed; but it was at the cost of infinite worry of herself, Kate, and Josephine, for there never was a child whom it was so hard to keep in decent trim. Armyn’s old saying, that she ought to be always kept dressed in sacking, as the only thing she could not spoil, was a true one; for the sharp hasty movements, and entire disregard of where she stepped, were so ruinous, that it was on the records of the Bruton Street household, that she had gone far to demolish eight frocks in ten days.
However, on this occasion she did get safe down to the carriage—clothes, gloves, and all, without detriment or scolding; and jumped in first. She was a long way yet from knowing that, though her aunts gave the first place to her rank, it would have been proper in her to yield it to their years, and make way for them.
She was too childish to have learnt this as a matter of good breeding, but she might have learnt it of a certain parable, which she could say from beginning to end, that she should “sit not down in the highest room.”
Her aunt sat down beside her, and spent the first ten minutes of the drive in enjoining on her proper behaviour at Lady de la Poer’s. The children there were exceedingly well brought up, she said, and she was very desirous they should be her niece’s friends; but she was certain that Lady de la Poer would allow no one to associate with them who did not behave properly.
“Lord de la Poer was very kind to me just as I was,” said Kate, in her spirit of contradiction, which was always reckless of consequences.
“Gentlemen are no judges of what is becoming to a little girl,” said Lady Barbara severely. “Unless you make a very different impression upon Lady de la Poer, she will never permit you to be the friend of her daughters.”
“I wonder how I am to make an impression,” meditated Kate, as they drove on; “I suppose it would make an impression if I stood up and repeated, ‘Ruin seize thee, ruthless king!’ or something of that sort, as soon as I got in. But one couldn’t do that; and I am afraid nothing will happen. If the horses would only upset us at the door, and Aunt Barbara be nicely insensible, and the young countess show the utmost presence of mind! But nothing nice and like a book ever does happen. And after all, I believe that it is all nonsense about making impressions. Thinking of them is all affectation; and one ought to be as simple and unconscious as one can.” A conclusion which did honour to the countess’s sense. In fact, she had plenty of sense, if only she had ever used it for herself, instead of for the little ladies she drew on her quires of paper.