"
"And what made you do it?" said her uncle kindly. "Do not be afraid
to tell me."
"It was because I was angry. Aunt Barbara would not let me go to the
other Wardours, and wanted me to write a--what I thought--a
fashionable falsehood; and when I said it was a lie," (if possible,
Kate here became deeper crimson than she was before,) "she sent me to
my room till I would beg her pardon, and write the note. So--so I
got out of the house, and took a cab, and went home by the train. I
didn't know it was so very dreadful a thing, or indeed I would not."
And Kate hid her burning face on her uncle's breast, and was
considerably startled by what she heard next, from the Marquis.
"Hm! All I have to say is, that if Barbara had the keeping of me, I
should run away at the end of a week."
"Probably!" and Lord de la Poer saw, what Kate did not, the first
shadow of a smile on the face of his friend, as he pressed his arm
round the still trembling girl; "but, you see, Barbara justly thinks
you corrupt youth.--My little girl, you must not let HIM make you
think lightly of this--"
"Oh, no, I never could! Papa was so shocked!" and she was again
covered with confusion at the thought.
"But," added her uncle, "it is not as if you had not gone to older
and better friends than any you have ever had, my poor child. I am
afraid you have been much tried, and have not had a happy life since
you left Oldburgh.
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