210 GUARDY'S PEARL.
Will you consent to let her belong to me some day?” said Charley, by way of a clincher. There! our secret was told, and vexed enough Guardy was about it. In the first place, he informed us that I was much too young to even think of being engaged, and intimated that Charley was not much better off. Secondly, according to the will of my father, I could not marry until I came of age, unless by special consent of my guardian. Thirdly, it was a fancy which we would each recover from without serious detriment to our hearts, and he must forbid me to think of such nonsense just at present. All this was said in Guardy’s most tranquil and placid manner, which always makes me feel as if I were beating against a rock, or blank wall, and makes me a little more angry than any other of his extremely aggravating ways. He was amiable enough to say that he knew he could trust me not to do clandestinely what he had forbidden; and he was sorry that he must ask Mr. Blake to cease his daily visits for the next six months, And then, all at once, he marched over and took Charley’s hand.
“My dear boy,” said he, kindly, ‘‘don’t think me a brute, but I must do my duty by that child in a straightforward manner. You have a manly heart; take my refusal in good part if you can, and when you grow older you will appreciate better the awkward dilemma which you two children have placed me in today;” and, without allowing me to say a word, he bowed poor Charley out of the room. Of course, I was furious, and stormed until Guardy opened his handsome eyes upon me in perfect amazement.
I assured him that I had not the smallest intention of obeying him; and I am ashamed now to remember how I talked. The scene ended by my being left to expend my passion alone, and Guardy went off to consult aunt Frances as to fit punishment for his refractory ward. I fully expected to be banished to some remote country school in supreme disgrace; so you may fancy my surprise when Guardy informed me, the next day, that I was invited to spend a month at Rainsford Priory, and that aunt Frances and he had concluded that I had better accept it. He was so good-natured to forget all my wicked speeches of the day before, and so politely ignored any offence, that my conscience smote me, and I was half inclined to tell him why I was pleased with the plan. You see, Charley and I had talked the matter over-beforehand. He had a houseful of cousins, the Dares, nice, jolly girls, who lived near Rainsford Priory, and they had asked Charley to go up and spend Christmas week with them.
Now Mrs. Rainsford was Marguerite Vivian’s sister, and Marguerite had hinted to me that I would be invited to the Priory when she paid her annual visit there. And to think that Guardy should fall into the trap, and send me right to the very place where Charley and I had planned to have such fun! I very nearly laughed outright.
“What makes you look so mischievous, Kathie?” asked he.
“Nothing,” said I, drawing down the corners of my mouth very demurely. “I’m sure it’s very thoughtful and kind of Marguerite.”
“Who?” said Guardy, suddenly.
“Marguerite Vivian, of course,” said I, rather wondering why he took me up in such a hurry. “Do you know her, Guardy? Isn’t she lovely?”
“I have not seen Miss Vivian for some years,” said he, as he took up. the morning paper. “As I remember her, you would do well to imitate her elegant repose of manner, Kathie.”
After which criticism, I indignantly left him to his own reflections.
Aunt Frances was occupied for two days in packing my dresses, and scolding me for my past-sins. And by the time I got into the train with my maid, Martha, bestowed on the opposite seat, I was in such a state of nervous irritation that I would hardly speak to Guardy, or bid him a good-by. I think I should have been quite amiable and obedient under Guardy’s tuition in those days, if aunt Frances had not persisted in rubbing my unfortunate temper the wrong way upon every occasion. It was useless for me to attempt reading when I felt so cross; so I tried to go to sleep, and almost succeeded, when at last the brakeman sung out ‘Chestnut Hill,” and Martha jumped up in a violent hurry.
Martha is a dreadfully stupid person, and the worst possible sort of a traveler. Out on the platform I walked, and there was Marguerite and Mrs. Rainsford in the sleigh waiting for me, and in another sleigh beside them the three Dare girls, and Charley!
“How late you are, little girl,” said Marguerite’s calm voice, in a pause between the noisy greetings of the Dares; ‘this is my sister, Kathie, and we are delighted to have you come and lighten the monotony of the country in such cold weather.”
Mrs. Rainsford was a bright-eyed, beautiful brunette, not a particle like her sister; but somehow, though she kissed me with what the French call effusion, I did not trust her. Charley came around to tuck in the robe at my side of the sleigh, and whispered in my ear,
“I’m so glad you've come, Kathie, I shall
