And then came something in return about Mrs. Wardour's other little
girl, a sad invalid, she said, on whose account they were come to
Bournemouth; and there was a little more said of bathing, and
walking, and whether the place was full; and then Mrs. Wardour jumped
up and said she was detaining Lady Barbara, and took leave; Kate,
though she had not spoken a word to Sylvia Wardour, looking at her
wistfully with all her eyes, and feeling more than usually silly.
And when the guests were gone her aunt told her how foolish her want
of manner was, and how she had taken the very means to make them
think she was not glad to see them. She hung down her head, and
pinched the ends of her gloves; she knew it very well, but that did
not make it a bit more possible to find a word to say to a stranger
before the elders, unless the beginning were made for her as by the
De la Poers.
However, she knew it would be very different out of doors, and her
heart bounded when her aunt added, "They seem to be quiet, lady-like,
inoffensive people, and I have no objection to your associating with
the little girl in your walks, as long as I do not see that it makes
you thoughtless and ungovernable."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, Aunt Barbara!" cried Kate, with a bouncing
bound that did not promise much for her thought or her
governableness; but perhaps Lady Barbara recollected what her own
childhood would have been without Jane, for she was not much
discomposed, only she said,
"It is very odd you should be so uncivil to the child in her
presence, and so ecstatic now! However, take care you do not get too
familiar.
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