It was not more easy to find a maid than a governess to Lady Barbara’s mind, nor did she exert herself much in the matter, for, as Kate heard her tell Mr. Mercer, she had decided that the present arrangement could not last; and then something was asked about the Colonel and Mrs. Umfraville; to which the answer was, “Oh no, quite impossible; she could never be in a house with an invalid;” and then ensued something about the Chancellor and an establishment, which, as usual, terrified Kate’s imagination.
Indeed that night terrors were at their height, for Mrs. Bartley never allowed dawdling, and with a severely respectful silence made the undressing as brief an affair as possible, brushing her hair till her head tingled all over, putting away the clothes with the utmost speed, and carrying off the candle as soon as she had uttered her grim “Good-night, my Lady,” leaving Kate to choose between her pet terrors—either of the Lord Chancellor, or of the house on fire—or a very fine new one, that someone would make away with her to make way for her Uncle Giles and his son to come to her title. Somehow Lady Barbara had contrived to make her exceedingly in awe of her Uncle Giles, the strict stern soldier who was always implicitly obeyed, and who would be so shocked at her. She wished she could hide somewhere when he was coming! But there was one real good bright pleasure near, that would come before her misfortunes; and that was the birthday to be spent at the Wardours’. As to the present, Josephine had had the album in her pocket, and had never restored it, and Kate had begun to feel a distaste to the whole performance, to recollect its faults, and to be ashamed of the entire affair; but that was no reason she should not be very happy with her friends, who had promised to take her to the Zoological Gardens.
She had not seen them since her return to London; they were at Westbourne Road, too far off for her to walk thither even if she had had anyone to go with her, and though they had called, no one had seen them; but she had had two or three notes, and had sent some “story pictures” by the post. And the thoughts of that day of freedom and enjoyment of talking to Alice, being petted by Mrs. Wardour and caressed by Sylvia, seemed to bear her through all the dull morning walks, in which she was not only attended by Bartley, but by the man-servant; all the lessons with her aunt, and the still more dreary exercise which Lady Barbara took with her in some of the parks in the afternoon. She counted the days to the 21st whenever she woke in the morning; and at last Saturday was come, and it would be Monday.
“Katharine,” said Lady Barbara at breakfast, “you had better finish your drawing to-day; here is a note from Madame to say it will suit her best to come on Monday instead of Tuesday.”
“Oh! but, Aunt Barbara, I am going to Westbourne Road on Monday.”
“Indeed! I was not aware of it.”
“Oh, it is Sylvia’s birthday! and I am going to the Zoological Gardens with them.”
“And pray how came you to make this engagement without consulting me?”
“It was all settled at Bournemouth. I thought you knew! Did not Mrs. Wardour ask your leave for me?”
“Mrs. Wardour said something about hoping to see you in London, but I made no decided answer. I should not have allowed the intimacy there if I had expected that the family would be living in London; and there is no reason that it should continue. Constant intercourse would not be at all desirable.”