Gertrude's fervent embrace assured her.
"You will be as bright and as happy as ever in a few weeks," said she; "you will soon cease to care for a person whom you no longer respect."
Kitty disclaimed the possibility of ever being happy again; but Gertrude was more hopeful. She saw that Kitty's outburst of sobs and tears was like an impetuous grief, but that the deepest recesses of her nature were safe. She felt a deep compassion for her, and many fears lest she would want sufficient strength of mind to behave with dignity and womanly pride in her future intercourse with Mr. Bruce.
Fortunately, the trial was spared her by Mr. Bruce's absenting himself from the house, and in a few days leaving home for the remainder of the summer; and, as this circumstance involved his own and Mrs. Graham's family in wonder as to the cause of his sudden departure, Kitty's trials were in the perpetual questionings from her aunt and cousin as to her share in this occurrence. Had she quarrelled with him?—and why? Kitty denied that she had; but she was not believed.
Mrs. Graham and Isabel were aware that Kitty's refusing at the last moment to attend the wedding levée was owing to her having learned, just before the carriage drove to the door, that Mr. Bruce was not to be one of the party; and, as they got her to confess that he had passed a part of the evening at the house, they came to the conclusion that some misunderstanding had arisen between the lovers.
Isabel was too well acquainted with Kitty's sentiments to believe she had voluntarily relinquished an admirer who had evidently been highly prized; and she also saw that the sensitive girl winced under every allusion to the deserter. Where was her affection? For she made Mr. Bruce and his disappearance her constant topic; and, on the slightest difference between herself and Kitty, she distressed the latter by cutting sarcasm relative to her late love-affair. Kitty would then seek refuge with Gertrude, and claim her sympathy; and she not only found in her a friendly listener to her woes, but invariably acquired in her society greater strength and cheerfulness than she could elsewhere rally to her aid.
Many a time, when Isabel had been tantalising Kitty beyond what her patience could endure, a little figure would present itself at the door of Miss Graham's room, and with the sweetest of voices say, "I hear you, Kitty; come in, my dear; we shall be glad of your pleasant company;" and seated by the side of Gertrude, learning from her some little art in needlework, listening to an agreeable book, or Emily's more agreeable conversation, Kitty passed hours which were never forgotten, so peaceful were they, so serene, so totally unlike any she had ever spent before.
None could live in familiar intercourse with Emily, listen to her words, observe the radiance of her heavenly smile, and breathe in the pure atmosphere that environed her very being, and not carry away with them the love of virtue and holiness, if not something of their essence. She was so unselfish, so patient, notwithstanding her privations, that Kitty would have been ashamed to repine in her presence; and there was a contagious cheerfulness ever pervading her apartment, which, in spite of Kitty's recent cause of unhappiness, often led her to forget herself, and break into her natural tone of buoyancy and glee.