It was not more easy to find a maid than a governess to Lady
Barbara's mind, nor did she exert herself much in the matter, for, as
Kate heard her tell Mr. Mercer, she had decided that the present
arrangement could not last; and then something was asked about the
Colonel and Mrs. Umfraville; to which the answer was, "Oh no, quite
impossible; she could never be in a house with an invalid;" and then
ensued something about the Chancellor and an establishment, which, as
usual, terrified Kate's imagination.
Indeed that night terrors were at their height, for Mrs. Bartley
never allowed dawdling, and with a severely respectful silence made
the undressing as brief an affair as possible, brushing her hair till
her head tingled all over, putting away the clothes with the utmost
speed, and carrying off the candle as soon as she had uttered her
grim "Good-night, my Lady," leaving Kate to choose between her pet
terrors--either of the Lord Chancellor, or of the house on fire--or a
very fine new one, that someone would make away with her to make way
for her Uncle Giles and his son to come to her title. Somehow Lady
Barbara had contrived to make her exceedingly in awe of her Uncle
Giles, the strict stern soldier who was always implicitly obeyed, and
who would be so shocked at her. She wished she could hide somewhere
when he was coming! But there was one real good bright pleasure
near, that would come before her misfortunes; and that was the
birthday to be spent at the Wardours'.
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