“She’ll tell me, she’ll confess, of course. I’ll give her the chance. Poor child, I used to know myself the pinch of not having a sovereign to my name. Yes, I’ll give her a chance, and if she tells me I’ll forgive her.”
He watched anxiously all that evening; he even gave Kitty a chance himself in the course of the evening, for he took her into his study to show her some new books which he had purchased, and which were very beautiful and exquisitely bound; but Kitty had not spoken. She went away the next day to The Red Gables School in the company of his daughters, and it was with the utmost difficulty that he could refrain from telling, from speaking his mind to Mrs. Fleming, but even then he said to himself, “I’ll give her a chance; she’ll write to me, perhaps. It would be a dreadful thing to ruin her, and, of course, it would ruin her.”
But Kitty did not write.
CHAPTER XX.
RESTITUTION.
Kitty, during her talk with Mrs. Wyndham, managed to inspire that good lady with a great many of her own charming sentiments; in particular she praised both Molly and Jessie, praising Jessie the most, as was but natural, seeing that Jessie was her friend. It happened also that of the two girls Jessie was her mother’s favourite. She was not nearly so affectionate as Molly, but Mrs. Wyndham did not want gushing, affectionate girls; as a matter of fact, she could not bear them. She liked Jessie’s stately, quiet way, and considered it ladylike. Then Kitty, feeling her way very quietly, approached the subject of the adopted child, Peggy. She had to be careful here, for she knew she was treading on dangerous ground. She was far too sharp not to have penetrated already into the true state of the case. Mr. Wyndham was devoted to Peggy, and Mrs. Wyndham could not bear her. But none the less on that account might Kitty, apparently not knowing anything, confide a few little things to Mrs. Wyndham about Peggy’s conduct at school.
At first Mrs. Wyndham pretended to be not at all interested, and in short let the subject drop; but when Kitty said abruptly, “Well, I can’t help it. I do think it’s awfully partial of her,” Mrs. Wyndham’s cold eyes seemed to blaze for a minute, and she said, with real interest in her tone, “What do you mean? Whom are you speaking about?”
“I’m speaking about Mrs. Fleming, and I know a little girl oughtn’t to speak against her mistress, ought she?”
“Certainly not.”
Kitty looked up attentively. There was no real anger in that emphatic “not,” and there was a great deal of curiosity.
“She is sweet beyond words,” said Kitty, “and, of course, we all adore her, but in that one case I do think she was partial—I do think it, I do. We all feel alike about it in the school.”