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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"Countess Kate"

Nobody made me naughty there. But
it's the fashionable world. It is corrupting my simplicity. It
always does. And I shall be lost! O Mary, Mary! O Papa, Papa! Oh,
come and take me home!" And for a little while Kate gasped out these
calls, as if she had really thought they would break the spell, and
bring her back to Oldburgh.
She ceased crying at last, and slowly crept upstairs, glad to meet no
one, and that not even Josephine was there to see her red eyes. Her
muslin frock was on the bed, and she managed to dress herself, and
run down again unseen; she stood over the fire, so that the
housemaid, who brought in her tea, should not see her face; and by
the time she had to go to the drawing-room, the mottling of her face
had abated under the influence of a story-book, which always drove
troubles away for the time.
It was a very quiet evening. Aunt Barbara read bits out of the
newspaper, and there was a little talk over them: and Kate read on
in her book, to hinder herself from feeling uncomfortable. Now and
then Aunt Jane said a few soft words about "Giles and Emily;" but her
sister always led away from the subject, afraid of her exciting
herself, and getting anxious.
And if Kate had been observing, she would have heard in the weary
sound of Aunt Barbara's voice, and seen in those heavy eyelids, that
the troubles of the day had brought on a severe headache, and that
there was at least one person suffering more than even the young ill-
used countess.


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