There was a piano, at which she shook her
head. Mary had tried to teach her music; but after a daily fret for
six weeks, Mr. Wardour had said it was waste of time and temper for
both; and Kate was delighted. Then she came to a book-case; and
there the aunts had kindly placed the books of their own younger
days, some of which she had never seen before. When she had once
begun on the "Rival Crusoes," she gave Mrs. Lacy no more trouble,
except to rouse her from it to drink her tea, and then go and be
dressed.
The maid managed the white muslin so as to make her look very nice;
but before she had gone half way down-stairs, there was a voice
behind--"My Lady! my Lady!"
She did not turn, not remembering that she herself must be meant; and
the maid, running after her, caught her rather sharply, and showed
her her own hand, all black and grimed.
"How tiresome!" cried she. "Why, I only just washed it!"
"Yes, my Lady; but you took hold of the balusters all the way down.
And your forehead! Bless me! what would Lady Barbara say?"
For Kate had been trying to peep through the balusters into the hall
below, and had of course painted her brow with London blacks. She
made one of her little impatient gestures, and thought she was very
hardly used--dirt stuck upon her, and brambles tore her like no one
else.
She got safely down this time, and went into the drawing-room with
Mrs. Lacy, there taking a voyage of discovery among the pretty
things, knowing she must not touch, but asking endless questions,
some of which Mrs.
Pages:
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44