‘Mademoiselle is very good; it is angelic to be so kind after what has passed—after the affair of the morning,’ said Francesca. ‘If I had been in Mademoiselle’s place, I do not think I should have been able to show so much education. For my part, it has yet to be explained to me how my lady could go to amuse herself and leave Mees Katta alone here.’
‘Francesca, don’t talk nonsense,’ said Kate. ‘I quite approve what my aunt did. She is always right, whatever anyone may think.’
‘It is very likely, Mees Katta,’ said Francesca; ‘but I shall know ze why, or I will not be happy. It is not like my lady. She is no besser than a slave with her Ombra. But I shall know ze why; I shall know ze reason why!’
‘Then don’t tell me, please, for I don’t wish to be cross again,’ said Kate, continuing her preparations. ‘Only I do hope they won’t bring Lady Barker with them,’ she added to herself. Lady Barker was the scapegoat upon whom Kate spent her wrath. She forgave the other, but her she had made up her mind not to forgive. It was night when the party came home. Kate rushed to the balcony to see them arrive, and looked on; without, however, making her presence known. There was but lamplight this time, but enough to show how Ombra sprang out of the carriage, and how thoroughly the air of a successful expedition hung about the party. ‘Well!’ said Kate to herself, ‘and I have had a pleasant day too.’ She ran to the door to welcome them, but, perhaps, made her appearance inopportunely. Ombra was coming upstairs hand in hand with some one—it was not like her usual gravity—and when the pair saw the door open they separated, and came up the remaining steps each alone. This was odd, and startled Kate. Then, when she asked, ‘Have you had a pleasant day?’ some one answered, ‘The most delightful day that ever was!’ with an enthusiasm that wounded her feelings—she could not tell why. Was it indeed Bertie Hardwick who said that? he who had spoken so differently in the morning? Kate stood aghast, and asked no more questions. She would have let the two pass her, but Ombra put an arm round her waist and drew her in.
‘Oh Kate, listen, I am so happy!’ said Ombra, whispering in her ear. ‘Don’t be vexed about anything, dear; you shall know it all afterwards. I am so happy!’
This was said in the little dark ante-room, where there were no lights, and Kate could only give her cousin a hasty kiss before she danced away. Bertie, for his part, in the dark, too, said nothing at all. He did not explain the phrase—‘The most delightful day that ever was!’ ‘Well!’ said poor Kate to herself, gulping down a little discomfort—‘well! I have had a pleasant day too.’
And then what a gay supper it was!—gayer than usual; gayer than she had ever known it! She did not feel as if she were quite in the secret of their merriment. They had been together all day, while she had been alone; they had all the jokes of the morning to carry on, and a hundred allusions which fell flat upon Kate. She had been put on her generosity, it was true, and would not, for the world, have shown how much below the general tone of hilarity she was; but she was not in the secret, and very soon she felt ready to flag. When she put in her experiences of the day, a momentary polite attention was given, but everybody’s mind was elsewhere. Mrs. Anderson had a half-frightened, half-puzzled look, and now and then turned affecting glances upon Kate; but Ombra was radiant. Never had she looked so beautiful; her eyes shone like two stars; her faint rose-colour went and came; her face was lit with soft smiles and happiness. All sorts of fancies crossed Kate’s mind. She looked at the young men, who were both in joyous spirits—but either her discrimination failed her, or her eyes were dim, or her understanding clouded. Altogether Kate was in a maze, and did not know what to do or think; they stayed till it was very late, and both Ombra and her mother went to close and lock the door after them when they went away, leaving Kate once more alone. She sat still at a corner of the table, and listened to the voices and laughter still at the door. Bertie Hardwick’s voice, she thought, was the one she heard most. They were all so happy, and she only listening to it, not knowing what it meant! Then, when the door was finally locked, Mrs. Anderson came back to her alone. ‘Ombra has gone to bed,’ she said. ‘She is tired, though she has enjoyed it so very much. And, my dear child, you must go to bed too. It is too late for you to be up.’
‘But you have had a very pleasant day.’
‘They have—oh yes!’ said Mrs Anderson. ‘The young ones have been very happy; but it has not been a pleasant day to me. I have so many anxieties; and then to think of you by yourself at home.’
‘I was not by myself,’ said Kate. Lady Caryisfort called and took me out.’