George Wardour, he forgets what I am;" but there was a wiser,
more loving voice to answer, "Dear Papa, he thinks of me as myself;
he is no respecter of persons. Oh, I hope he is not angry with me!"
When tea was over Mr. Wardour stood up, and said, "I shall wish you
children good-night now; I have to read with John Bailey for his
Confirmation, and to prepare for to-morrow;--and you, Kate, must go
to bed early.--Mary, she had better sleep with you."
This was rather a blank, for sleeping with Sylvia again had been
Kate's dream of felicity; yet this was almost lost in the sweetness
of once more coming in turn for the precious kiss and good-night, in
the midst of which she faltered, "O Papa, don't be angry with me!"
"I am not angry, Katie," he said gently; "I am very sorry. You have
done a thing that nothing can justify, and that may do you much
future harm; and I cannot receive you as if you had come properly. I
do not know what excuse there was for you, and I cannot attend to you
to-night; indeed, I do not think you could tell me rightly; but
another time we will talk it all over, and I will try to help you.
Now good-night, my dear child."
Those words of his, "I will try to help you," were to Kate like a
promise of certain rescue from all her troubles; and, elastic ball
that her nature was, no sooner was his anxious face out of sight, and
she secure that he was not angry, than up bounded her spirits again.
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