“Mother, if things come to the worst, would it do for me to ask Jane for money?”
“I wonder at thee. Jane niver gives or lends anything to anybody, but to Jane.”
“She says she is going to entertain many great people this winter and she wishes me to meet them so I think she might help me to make a good appearance.”
“I wouldn’t wonder if she asked thy father to pay her for introducing thee into the titled set. She writes about them and talks about them and I dare warrant dreams about them.”
“Does she ever forget that she has managed to become Lady Leyland? She thinks that two syllables before her name makes her better than her own family. _Chut!_ Katherine! Leyland is only the third of the line. It was an official favor, too--what merit there is in it has not yet been discovered. We have lived in this old house three hundred years, and three hundred before that in old Britain.”
“To be sure--in Glamorganshire, I believe. Ask thy father. He knows his genealogy by heart. I see him coming. Go and meet him.”
“Yes, mother, but I think I will write a short note to Aunt Josepha. I will not name business, nor money, nor even my desire to make a visit to London.”
“Write such a letter if thou wishes but take the result--whatever it is--in a good humor. Remember that thy aunt’s temper, and her words also, are entirely without frill.”
“That, of course. It is the Annis temper.”
“Well, mother, things seem to be ordered in a very unhappy fashion but I suppose we might as well take to them at once. Indeed, we shall be compelled to do it, if so be, it pleases them above.”
“Just so,” answered Madam. “But, Katherine, The Hands of Compulsion generally turn out to be The Hands of Compassion.”
Katherine smiled happily, the door opened, and the next moment she gave the smile in a kiss to her father, as he clasped her fondly in his arms, crying, “Eh, my joy! I am glad to see thee!” Then the two women made that charming fuss over his “tired look,” which is so consoling to men fresh from the slings and arrows of an outrageous world that will not do as they want it to do.
In his family life the squire still retained many old-fashioned customs, and his dinner at one o’clock was a settled ceremony. This day, in the very middle of it, Katherine said, “I saw you, father, this morning when you were talking to Mr. Bradley on the Green--about ten o’clock.”