‘Sorry!’ said Kate—‘oh! don’t be sorry. I am very glad. I am going to my aunt, who is fond of me, though I never saw her. Going to people who are fond of you is different——’
‘Are you fond of her?’ said Edith.
‘I never saw her,’ said Kate, opening her eyes.
Here was an opportunity to be instructive such as seldom occurred, even in the schools where Miss Edith’s gift was known. The young sage laid her hand upon Kate’s, who was considerably surprised by the unlooked-for affectionateness. ‘I am older than you,’ said Edith—‘I am quite grown up. You will not mind my speaking to you? Oh! do you know, dear, what is the best way to make people fond of you?’
‘No.’
‘To love them,’ said Edith, with fervour. Kate looked at her with calm, reflective, fully-opened eyes.
‘If you can,’ she said—‘but then how can you? Besides, it is their business to begin; they are older; they ought to know more about it—to be more in the way; Uncle Courtenay, for instance—— I am sure you are very good—a great deal better than I am; but could you be fond of him?’
‘If he was my uncle—if it was my duty,’ said Edith.
‘Oh! I don’t know about duty,’ said Kate, shaking back her abundant locks. The idea did not all commend itself to her mind. ‘It is one’s duty to learn lessons,’ she went on, ‘and keep one’s temper, and not to talk too much, and that sort of thing; but to be fond of people—— However, never mind; we can talk of that another time. We are going on Monday, and I never was out of Langton-Courtenay for a single night in all my life before.’
‘Poor child!—what a trial for you!’ said Edith.