Remember, these Wardours are no relations, and I will not
have you letting them call you by your Christian name."
Kate's bright looks sank. That old married-woman sound, Lady
Caergwent, seemed as if it would be a bar between her and the free
childish fun she hoped for. Yet when so much had been granted, she
must not call her aunt cross and unkind, though she did think it hard
and proud.
Perhaps she was partly right; but after all, little people cannot
judge what is right in matters of familiarity. They have only to do
as they are told, and they may be sure of this, that friendship and
respect depend much more on what people are in themselves than on
what they call one another.
This lady was the widow of Mr. Wardour's brother, and lived among a
great clan of his family in a distant county, where Mary and her
father had sometimes made visits, but the younger ones never. Kate
was not likely to have been asked there, for it was thought very hard
that she should be left on the hands of her aunt's husband: and much
had been said of the duty of making her grand relations provide for
her, or of putting her into the "Clergy Orphan Asylum." And there
had been much displeasure when Mr. Wardour answered that he did not
think it right that a child who had friends should live on the
charity intended for those who had none able to help them; and soon
after the decision he had placed his son Armyn in Mr.
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