“But, thank Heaven, they will have changed their minds before that time.”
This was from Miss Southwood, who emphasized her exclamation by getting up to sweep off into the fire-place a few crumbs from her gray velveteen gown.
“Do you think it is a good thing they should have changed their minds? It seems to me rather a pity. That is why we never have anything new. We all fall into the same jog-trot about the same age.”
“The new is always to be avoided. Don’t tell me about jog-trot— I wish I were half as sensible as my mother.”
“And so do I, Ellen,” said Mrs. Stone, taking up the discussion in her own manner with that soft little half blow to begin with. Nobody could tell whether it was directed at her sister, or was an echo of her wish, not even Lucy, who knew her so well, and who stood between her and Mrs. Rushton, listening to their talk, but without any impulse on her own part to rush into it as Katie would have done. Katie in the meantime had got out of that graver circle. She had given the large barytone his cup of tea, and now was holding the cake-basket while he selected a piece. Katie was in the light, so much light as there was. She was a fair-haired girl, with just the touch of warmth and color that Lucy wanted—a little gold in her hair, a deeper blue in her eyes, a tinge of rose on her cheeks; and she had a far warmer sense of fun than Lucy, who would have carried the cake-basket quite demurely without any smile.
“I hope you will not think this is my fault,” Mrs. Stone’s nephew said in a low tone. “I am bound to obey, as I suppose every one is here; otherwise I should not sit still and allow myself to be served; it is not my way, I assure you. And I keep you standing so long. I can not make up my mind which piece to take. This has the most plums, but that is the larger piece. It always turns out so in this life; I wonder if you have found that out in your experience, or if things are better managed here.”
“We are not supposed to have any experience at school,” said Katie, demurely. It was pretty to see her holding the cake-basket. And the rest of the company was occupied with their own conversation. Besides, how was he to know which of them was the heiress?
“We met you on the common just now with your friend. It is not a very amusing walk, but it is better than going out in procession, I suppose. Does my aunt make you do that? is it part of a young lady’s education, as cricket is of a man’s?”
“Yes,” said Katie. “We are trained to put up with everything that is disagreeable, just as boys are trained to everything that is pleasant.”
“Do you think cricket then so pleasant?”