"Yes! Oh, heaven forgive my forgetfulness, but now I feel so wearied with this vain struggle! If I had been blessed with children I should have something to live for." She paused and pressed her hand against her eyes. "Come, I will give myself rest and freedom, I will live for you, and you only, my Kate, you shall be my daughter."
And she held her with a wild firm pressure to her heart.
And Kate, puzzled by this unaccountable outbreak, returned her embrace, silently praying to God to direct her beautiful but wayward kinswoman aright.
CHAPTER III.
OLD ACQUAINTANCE.
Lord Effingham's visits were constant and apparently welcome, for Kate soon began to observe a restlessness in her cousin, when the hour at which he usually made his appearance passed without his arrival. At first, Kate had taken her work or book to her own room or to the Palace Garden, when his name was announced, but Lady Desmond had soon cut off her retreat by observing—
"You must act chaperone for me, dear Kate, but if strangers are so repugnant to you, I will tell Lord Effingham, and he shall not come here any more."
And Miss Vernon knew very well, whatever her inclination might be, what was expected. Yet there was much in their visitor's conversation that drew her out of herself, and interested her by force of contrast to her own views, although the indolence of depression rendered her averse to the exertion of argument. Besides, Lord Effingham was often apparently unconscious of her presence, and scarcely ever addressed himself to her, so much so, that Lady Desmond had thought herself called upon to make a sort of apology for him.