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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"Countess Kate"

"
"I am certain what he will say, and it would only be the trouble of
sending someone in, and keeping the poor women in a fright all the
longer. Besides, depend on it, the way to have them sending down
after you would be to say nothing. Now, if they hear you are safe,
you are pretty secure of spending to-morrow at least with us. Let me
go, Kate; it must be done. I cannot help it."
Even while he spoke, the kind way of crossing her will was so like
home, that it gave a sort of happiness, and she felt she could not
resist; so she gave a sigh, and he turned back.
How much of the joy and hope of her journey had he not carried away
with him! His manner of treating her exploit made her even doubt how
his father might receive it; and yet the sight of old scenes, and the
presence of Charlie, was such exceeding delight, that it seemed to
kill off all unpleasant fears or anticipations; and all the way home
it was one happy chatter of inquiries for everyone, of bits of home
news, and exclamations at the sight of some well-known tree, or the
outline of a house remembered for some adventure; the darker the
twilight the happier her tongue. The dull suburb, all little pert
square red-brick houses, with slated roofs and fine names, in the
sloppiness of a grey November day, was dear to Kate; every little
shop window with the light streaming out was like a friend; and she
anxiously gazed into the rough parties out for their Saturday
purchases, intending to nod to anyone she might know, but it was too
dark for recognitions; and when at length they passed the dark
outline of the church, she was silent, her heart again bouncing as if
it would beat away her breath and senses.


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