And when bed-time came, she learnt more of the "consequences of her
actions." Stiff Mrs. Bartley stood there with her candle.
"Where is Josephine?"
"She is gone away, my Lady."
Kate asked no more, but shivered and trembled all over. She
recollected that in telling the truth she had justified herself, and
at Josephine's expense. She knew Josephine would call it a
blackness--a treason. What would become of the poor bright merry
Frenchwoman? Should she never see her again? And all because she
had not had the firmness to be obedient! Oh, loss of trust! loss of
confidence! disobedience! How wicked this place made her! and would
there be any end to it?
And all night she was haunted through her dreams with the Lord
Chancellor, in his wig, trying to catch her, and stuff her into the
woolsack, and Uncle Wardour's voice always just out of reach. If she
could only get to him!
CHAPTER XI.
The young countess was not easily broken down. If she was ever so
miserable for one hour, she was ready to be amused the next; and
though when left to herself she felt very desolate in the present,
and much afraid of the future, the least enlivenment brightened her
up again into more than her usual spirits. Even an entertaining bit
in the history that she was reading would give her so much amusement
that she would forget her disgrace in making remarks and asking
questions, till Lady Barbara gravely bade her not waste time, and
decided that she had no feeling.
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