Irish -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
"It is all right now you really want to be friends," answered Kitty;
"and I will try to be as dull as you please." Here she paused and seemed
to consider. "There's no use," she continued after a moment; "I mean I
must be myself whatever happens. I must be genuine. Please, Alice, let
me be genuine for a week; if at the end of that time you find me
intolerable, why I'll be off."
"Don't say anything about that," said Bessie; "everything is quite new
to you, and Alice did speak unkindly; but please, Kitty, don't be angry
if I say something."
"Oh, no, I won't be angry with you; you're a real duck," cried Kitty.
"Well, we English girls are not quite accustomed to your sort of way; we
are quieter here and more reserved. Perhaps you had better--"
"Oh, I know exactly what the end of that pretty little speech is going
to be," said Kitty; "but I cannot. I must be Kitty Malone or nothing. I
was born that way. Why, bless you, it is in our race. Aunt Bridget was
just the same when she was young, and so was Aunt Honora, and even
father; oh, and--and Laurie. If you only saw Laurie and Pat! Oh, I wish
you knew Laurie; if you saw him you would say, 'If there is a broth of a
boy in the world he is one.'"
The girls had now reached the avenue gates at Harley Lodge, and the
lodge-keeper ran out to open them. A few moments later they found
themselves in sight of the pretty, modern mansion which Mr. Harley had
lately purchased. The door was opened by a butler in very correct
livery, and the young folk were shown into a handsome drawing-room at
the other side of a broad hall. There was no one in the room when they
entered, and Kitty walked straight up to a glass let into the wall, and
began to survey herself with intense satisfaction. She had by this time
forgotten the rebuff which Alice had given her, tears had only added to
the brightness of her eyes, and her momentary fit of vexation and temper
had deepened the color in her blooming cheeks. She nodded to herself
with smiles of intense satisfaction, pushed her velvet cap in a slightly
more coquettish way over her mass of black curls, and began once again
to dance a very graceful _pas de seul_ in front of the glass.
"I do think I have nice feet," she said; and just at that moment the
door was opened, and Gwin Harley and Elma Lewis entered the room.
Gwin, statuesque, graceful, dressed in the most suitable manner, made a
perfect contrast to poor, excitable Kitty. Kitty's words had been
plainly audible, and Alice flushed deeply with vexation.
"Why, then, I had better introduce myself," said Kitty, who was by no
means abashed. "Are you Miss Harley? You have got a very nice looking
glass, let me tell you; it shows off the figure to perfection."
Gwin could not help coloring in surprise and astonishment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account