CHAPTER XXVI. — CHECKMATED.
Constance Channing proceeded to her duties as usual at Lady Augusta Yorke’s. She drew her veil over her face, only to traverse the very short way that conveyed her thither, for the sense of shame was strong upon her; not shame for Arthur, but for Hamish. It had half broken Constance’s heart.
There are times in our every-day lives when all things seem to wear a depressing aspect, turn which way we will. They were wearing it that day to Constance. Apart from home troubles, she felt particularly discouraged in the educational task she had undertaken. You heard the promise made to her by Caroline Yorke, to be up and ready for her every morning at seven. Caroline kept it for two mornings and then failed. This morning and the previous morning Constance had been there at seven, and returned home without seeing either of the children. Both were ready for her when she entered now.
“How am I to deal with you?” she said to Caroline, in a sad but affectionate tone. “I do not wish to force you to obey me; I would prefer that you should do it cheerfully.”
“It is tiresome to get up early,” responded Caroline. “I can’t wake when Martha comes.”
“Whether Martha goes to you at seven, or at eight, or at nine, she has the same trouble to get you up.”
“I don’t see any good in getting up early,” cried Caroline.
“Do you see any good in acquiring good habits, instead of bad ones?” asked Constance.
“But, Miss Channing, why need we learn to get up early? We are ladies. It’s only the poor who need get up at unreasonable hours—those who have their living to earn.”
“Is it only the poor who are accountable to God for waste of time, Caroline?”