"I am sure I have a thousand apologies to make, my dear, leaving you all the afternoon by yourself."
"Indeed, Mrs. Storey, you need not apologise; besides I have not been alone. Lord Effingham has been here."
"Oh, indeed," cried Mrs. Storey, eagerly.
"Yes; and I do not think we shall be troubled with him any more."
"Well, my dear, you know best; but—" and Mrs. Storey shook her head.
In truth, the kind-hearted little woman was much attached to Kate, especially since she had been domesticated with her. She would gladly have witnessed her "entrée" at court in the character of the Countess of Effingham, and still more gladly shone in the reflected lustre of so brilliant a friend; but if Miss Vernon did not like him it was very unfortunate.
The next morning brought Kate a letter from Lady Desmond, and another from nurse. The former, after commenting on Colonel Dashwood's sudden appearance in Dublin, and expressing, more constrainedly and coldly than usual, her hopes that Kate was happy, &c., &c., went on to say, "I am annoyed by a strange whim of nurse's; she will no doubt tell you all about it; she is determined on leaving me 'to see her people;' and as the only solution for such an amount of family affection, I must conclude that she is unhappy or uncomfortable in my establishment—I wish she would condescend to mention in what particular; but this is too candid a line of conduct for persons of her class." Kate felt deeply the acerbity with which her cousin wrote, and turned anxiously to nurse's letter for an explanation of the affair.
"My own blessed darlin'," it began, "I've a power to tell you; but, first of all, avourneen, there's yer letter that warmed yer own ould nurse's heart—my hearty thanks for it, jewil. You see, there's three weeks of the four I promised to stay with my lady gone, and I'm wearyin' to see my sisther's daughter and her childre that's doin' well in Killeesh; and an unfortunate vagabone of a boy, my cousin, they tell me is gone to the bad—so I'm sure, Miss Kate, jewil, ye'll give me lave to step over, and if I get a thrifle of work, sure I'll be better plaised nor to be here doin' nothin', but in everybody's way, an' my lady different to what she used to be—not but that she's good; but, asthore, I don't know how she and you parted, an' I never feel asy like with her, so just tell me you'll let me off stoppin' here any longer."
Kate hardly felt surprise at this intelligence. She had instinctively expected that nurse would not remain long with Lady Desmond; yet this was an increase of anxiety. "I trust she will not give away all her money," thought Kate, as she sat down to reply to Lady Desmond's letter. She expressed her regret at nurse's determination, urging, however, in extenuation, that her desire to revisit the scenes of her youth, and the few relations she had left, was natural and pardonable. After touching on all the points in her cousin's letter, she found herself concluding her own before she had courage to mention Lord Effingham's name; she therefore added a short postscript—"I have seen Lord Effingham for the last time." She next wrote her assent to nurse's project, recommending her, however, merely to go on furlough, and not to break altogether with Lady Desmond. These letters despatched, she joined her hostess.
"You remember, I told you yesterday, I wanted a good long talk with you, Mrs. Storey."