Cursed by a Fortune Part 10

"No, no, not quite forget, dear; but try and bear your troubles like a woman now. Who could forget dear old master, and your poor dear mother?

But would they like you to fret yourself into the grave with sorrow?

Would they not say if they could come to you some night, 'Never forget us, darling; but try and bear this grief as a true woman should'?"

"Yes," said the girl, thoughtfully, "and I will. But I don't feel as if I could be happy here."

The maid sighed.

"Uncle is very kind, and my aunt is very loving in her way, but I feel as if I want to be alone somewhere--of course with you. I have lain awake at night, longing to be back home."

"But that is impossible now, darling. Cook wrote to me the other day, and she told me that the house and furniture had been sold, and that the workmen were in, and--oh, what a stupid woman I am. Pretty way to try and comfort you!"

"It's nothing, 'Liza. It's all gone now," said the girl, smiling piteously.

"That's nice and brave of you; but I am very stupid, my dear. There, there, you will try and be more hopeful, and to think of the future?"

"Yes, I will; but I'm sure I should be better and happier if I went away from here. Couldn't we have a cottage somewhere--at the seaside, perhaps, and live together?"

"Well, yes, you could, my dear; but it wouldn't be nice for you, nor yet proper treatment to your uncle and aunt. Come, try and get quite well.

So you don't like Doctor Leigh?"

"No, I think not."

"Nor yet Miss Jenny?"

"Oh, yes, I like her," said Kate, with animation. "She is very sweet and girlish. Oh, nurse, dear, I wish I could be as happy, and light-hearted as she is!"

"So you will be soon, my darling. I don't want to see you quite like her. You are so different; but she is a very nice girl, and by-and-by perhaps you'll see more of her. You do want more of a companion of your own age. There goes the breakfast bell! What a wet, soaking morning; but it isn't foggy down here like it used to be in the Square, and the sun shines more; and Miss Kate--"

"Oh, don't speak like that, nurse!"

"But I must, my dear. I have to keep my place down here."

"Well, when we are alone then. What were you going to say?"

"I want you to try and make me happy down here."

"I? How can I?"

"By letting the sunshine come back into your face. You've nearly broken my heart lately, what with seeing you crying and being so ill."

"I'm going to try, nurse."

"That's right. What's that? Hail?"

At that moment there was a tap at the door.

"Nearly ready to go down, my darling?"

The door opened, and Mrs Wilton appeared.

"May I come in? Ah, quite ready. Come, that's better, my pretty pet.

Why, you look lovely and quite a colour coming into your face. Now, don't she look nice this morning?"

"Yes, ma'am; I've been telling her so."

"I thought we should bring her round. I am pleased, and you're a very good girl. Your uncle will be delighted; but come along down, and let's make the tea, or he'll be going about like a roaring lion for his food.

Oh! bless me, what's that?"

"That" was a sharp rattling, for the second time, on the window-pane.

"Not hail, surely. Oh, you naughty boy," she continued, throwing open the cas.e.m.e.nt window. "Claud, my dear, you shouldn't throw stones at the bedroom windows."

"Only small shot. Morning. How's Kate? Tell her the breakfast's waiting."

"We're coming, my dear, and your cousin's ever so much better. Come here, my dear."

Kate coloured slightly, as she went to the open window, and Claud stood looking up, grinning.

"How are you? Didn't you hear the shot I pitched up before?"

"Yes, I thought it was hail," said Kate, coldly.

"Only number six. But come on down; the guv'nor's been out these two hours, and gone to change his wet boots."

"We're coming, my dear," cried Mrs Wilton; "and Claud, my dear, I'm sure your feet must be wet. Go in and change your boots at once."

"Bother. They're all right."

"Now don't be obstinate, my dear; you know how delicate your throat is, and--There, he's gone. You'll have to help me to make him more obedient, Kate, my dear. I've noticed already how much more attention he pays to what you say. But there, come along."

James Wilton was already in the breakfast-room, looking at his letters, and scowling over them like the proverbial bear with the sore head.

"Come, Maria," he growled, "are we never to have any--Ah, my dear, you down to breakfast! This makes up for a wet morning," and he met and kissed his niece, drew her hand under his arm, and led her to a chair on the side of the table nearest the fire. "That's your place, my dear, and it has looked very blank for the past fortnight. Very, very glad to see you fill it again. I say," he continued, chuckling and rubbing his hands, "you're quite looking yourself again."

"Yes," said Mrs Wilton, "but you needn't keep all the good mornings and kisses for Kitty. Ah, it's very nice to be young and pretty, but if Uncle's going to pet you like this I shall grow quite jealous." This with a good many meaning nods and smiles at her niece, as she took her place at the table behind the hissing urn.

"You've been too much petted, Maria. It makes you grow too plump and rosy."

"James, my dear, you shouldn't."

"Oh, yes, I should," said her husband, chuckling. "I know Kitty has noticed it. But is that boy coming in to breakfast?"

"Yes, yes, yes, my dear; but don't shout so. You quite startle dear Kitty. Recollect, please, that she is an invalid."

"Bah! Not she. Going to be quite well again directly, and come for rides and drives with me to the farms. Aren't you, my dear?"

"I shall be very pleased to, Uncle--soon."

"That's right. We'll soon have some roses among the lilies. Ha! ha!