Kate's Ordeal Part 2

"You must not be angry, Mrs. Haydon; it was excusable, I am sure, if you had just received these London letters," said the lady, gently.

"I don't see how she could have forgotten such a message," said the widow, in the same vexed tone. "Did you know what I was wanted for, Kate?" she demanded, turning once more to her daughter.

But Miss Eldon answered for her: "Oh, no; she could not have known it, and so I am the only one to blame in this business," she said.

Kate felt very grateful to her teacher for thus helping her out of the difficulty, and vowed in her own mind that she would never act so deceitfully again. No, never again would she follow such a crooked path, and deceive her mother, for it was deceit; now she saw it quite plainly. But still she was afraid to confess the whole truth about the matter.

After Miss Eldon had gone, she had an opportunity of doing this, for her mother said: "Now, Kate, tell me the whole truth about this affair."

"The truth, mother?" repeated Kate. "Teacher told you the whole truth."

"But how could you forget such an important message as this, when you knew it was just what I was wishing for you to get--a nice quiet place near home?"

"But teacher did not say a word about the place that Sunday afternoon,"

said Kate, in an injured tone.

"But you might have known--might have guessed--what it was likely to be about. It is not as though Miss Eldon was in the habit of sending for me. She never did such a thing before."

"But still, how was I to know she had heard of a place at last? I have been waiting months and months, and nothing has come."

"I know that; but still how you could forget that Sunday afternoon, when you came home and found me in such trouble about your going to London, is more than I can understand."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Miss Eldon's visit.]

But the foolish girl persisted in declaring that she had forgotten all about the message, in spite of her mother's frequently expressed doubts, soothing her conscience by a.s.suring herself that this should be a warning to her never to do so again. Kate felt quite sure about this; let the temptation be what it might, she never would yield to it again, as she had done in this instance, for it had made her miserable.

But I am not sure that Kate felt sorry enough for her fault yet to wish it undone. When she went up to bed that night, instead of kneeling down and confessing her sin to G.o.d, and asking His forgiveness, and His grace to keep her in the future, she peeped into the box that stood ready packed, and thought with a feeling of triumph that she was going to London after all, and her mother would forget all this fuss that had been made about her teacher's message when she heard how well she was getting on there; and so full was Kate's heart of these thoughts that she jumped into bed without kneeling at her bedside, but still feeling quite confident that she would never act again as she had done, now that she had got her own way, and was sure of going to London.

CHAPTER III.

IN LONDON.

It was night when Kate reached London, but her uncle was waiting for her at the railway station, and she and her luggage were soon stowed away in a cab, and they were rattling through the brilliantly-lighted streets. To Kate's unaccustomed eyes it was like fairyland for a few minutes, and she thought she had indeed been fortunate to obtain a place in one of these grand shops.

But she soon found there were streets in London almost as dimly lighted as their own village streets at home, and shops much less grand and imposing than those she had first seen.

At last the cab stopped, and Kate saw, to her disappointment, that it was not a broad, fashionable thoroughfare, and the shop, with its piles of buns and loaves of bread, was by no means imposing, but rather old-fashioned in its appearance, and the whole street was the same, although there were a great number of people about, and everybody seemed in such a hurry that Kate made up her mind there must be a fire or some accident must have happened, near at hand. All this pa.s.sed through her mind, as her box was being lifted from the roof of the cab, as she stood on the pavement looking up and down the busy, old-fashioned street, that was so unlike what she had fancied her new home would be.

Her cousin Marion was behind the counter in the shop, and there seemed to be a constant stream of customers coming and going. "This is the best bun house in London," whispered her uncle, as he took her hand and led her in.

The old lady, who was likewise serving, left her post when she saw Kate and her uncle, and led the way into the cosy parlour behind the shop.

She seemed pleased with Kate's appearance and manner, and asked her a great many questions about her home and her mother.

"We are very quiet, old-fashioned people, ourselves," she said, "although we live in London, and I am very particular about the young people I have to help me in the shop, and never allow them to make friends among the customers. Be civil to all, but nothing more than that to anyone, my dear; that is my rule, and you must remember to obey it. Marion knows I am more strict about this than anything else, and so I hope you will remember it, too."

"Yes, ma'am, I will," said Kate; and then the old lady asked the servant to bring up some supper, and went back to the shop, that Marion might come in and speak to her father and cousin.

"I am to give you some supper, and then take you to bed," said Marion, after their greetings were over. "You will have some supper with us, father?--Mrs. Maple told me to ask you."

"No, thank you, my dear, I want to get home, and you girls don't need me now. I have told Kate she is always to spend the Sunday with us, the same as you do."

"Oh, yes, of course she will," said Marion. "You see that is one advantage of being in an old-fashioned shop like this; we have no Sunday work," she said, turning to her cousin.

"Mother will be glad to know that," said Kate.

"Yes, you must tell her when you write," said her uncle, bidding her good-bye.

When he was gone the girls sat down to supper, and Kate tried to eat, but everything was so strange, and she had such an intense longing to see her mother, that she said "yes" and "no" to her cousin's questions, scarcely understanding what they were.

The next morning, however, she felt a good deal better, and by the end of the week began to feel quite at home, for Mrs. Maple was not a hard mistress, and so Kate was able to give a good account of her home, when she wrote to her mother.

"What shall we do to-morrow--where shall we go?" said Marion, on Sat.u.r.day afternoon.

"Where do you generally go?" said Kate rather timidly. "I have been going to ask you two or three times how you spend Sunday."

"Oh! I go home, and, if it's fine, Bella and I go for a walk, or a little way into the country. But you will want to see London, of course."

"Yes," said Kate, rather slowly; "I should like to see some of the grand places I have heard about, but--but don't you think we might manage to see them another time? Don't you go to Sunday school?" she asked, in a still lower tone.

Her cousin stared at her in blank amazement, for a minute or two and then burst into a merry laugh. "Go to Sunday school--a young woman like me?" she said.

"Well, not to Sunday school, exactly: I did not mean that, but to church and Bible-cla.s.s?" said Kate.

"Oh, yes, we go to church sometimes, for a change, when it's wet, and it's a good place to see the fashions, too, but I never went to Sunday school in my life; mother said it wasn't genteel!"

"Mother liked me to go to Sunday school, and I promised her I would find out a Bible-cla.s.s, as soon as I could," said Kate.

"Well, so you can, I daresay, after a little while, but you must look round a bit first Now where shall we go on Sunday? You see the fine weather won't last long, and there's such lots of things for you to see. Of course, you would like to see Buckingham Palace, and the Houses of Parliament, and the Albert Memorial, and Kensington Gardens.

But we can't see everything in one Sunday, so we had better make up our mind to go and see the Parks and the Memorial next Sunday."

Kate did not answer, but Marion chose to consider the matter settled.

Later in the day, when they had time for a few minutes' chat to themselves, Marion said, "You will soon forget your old-fashioned, countrified notions about Sunday schools and Bible-cla.s.ses. They were all very well, I daresay, for the country people could go out and get a breath of fresh air any day in the week; but you can't here, and so we are obliged to manage our Sundays the best way we can."

"Yes--but--but I should like to go to church next Sunday. Mother asked me in her letter this morning to tell her whether I had found a nice Bible-cla.s.s, and where I went to church."

"Oh! well, we'll go to church for once, just to satisfy your mother, Kate, only she can't expect us to go every Sunday."

Kate thought she had better be content with the small victory she had gained, and perhaps, by-and-by, she might be able to persuade Marion to go to Bible-cla.s.s with her, and thus put an end to these Sunday excursions. In the meantime, she must go with her cousins for a walk or a pleasure trip on a Sunday afternoon, or else Marion would refuse to accompany her to school.

It seemed strange to Kate, at first, to be walking about in the noisy streets, or gazing at the fashionable, gaily-dressed people in the Park, but she soon began to enjoy discussing this one's dress and that one's bonnet almost as much as her cousins did, and her younger cousin said, "You will soon wear off all your country rust, Kate. How could you have lived in that pokey place so long?"

"Oh, it wasn't pokey a bit," said Kate warmly; "I had lots of friends there, and that is what we are not allowed to have here. Don't you find that rule of Mrs. Maple's rather hard to keep sometimes, Marion?"

she added.

"What rule?" said Marion.