Page 1 of Wild Kitty




  WILD KITTY.

  BY L. T. MEADE

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I. Bessie, Alice, Gwin, and Elma

  CHAPTER II. The Blarney Stone

  CHAPTER III. Is that the Girl?

  CHAPTER IV. Tiffs all Round

  CHAPTER V. Incorrigible Kitty

  CHAPTER VI. The Tug-of-War

  CHAPTER VII. Elma

  CHAPTER VIII. The Little House in Constantine Road

  CHAPTER IX. The Head Mistress and the Cabbage-Rose

  CHAPTER X. Paddy Wheel-About

  CHAPTER XI. In Carrie's Bedroom

  CHAPTER XII. The "Spotted Leopard"

  CHAPTER XIII. Coventry

  CHAPTER XIV. The Lost Packet

  CHAPTER XV. Gwin Harley's Scheme

  CHAPTER XVI. Paddy Wheel-About's Old Coat

  CHAPTER XVII. "We Are Both in the Same Boat"

  CHAPTER XVIII. "I Cannot Help You"

  CHAPTER XIX. Kitty Tells the Truth

  CHAPTER XX. An Eye-Opener

  CHAPTER XXI. The Lady from Buckinghamshire

  CHAPTER XXII. Stunned and Cold

  CHAPTER XXIII. Stars and Moon, and God Behind

  CHAPTER XXIV. Sunshine Again

  CHAPTER XXV. Kitty "Go-Bragh" (Forever)

  CHAPTER I.

  BESSIE, ALICE, GWIN, ELMA.

  Bessie! Bessie!

  "Yes, mother," replied Bessie Challoner. "You'll be late for school,child, if you are not quick."

  "Bessie!" shouted her father at the top of his voice from below stairs."Bessie; late as usual."

  "I am really going, father; I am just ready," was the eager reply.Bessie caught up her sailor hat, shoved it carelessly over her mass ofthick hair, and searched frantically round her untidy bedroom for thestring bag which contained her schoolbooks.

  "Oh, Bessie, you'll get into a scrape," said Judy, one of her youngersisters, dancing into the room. "Why, you are late. I hear theschoolbell ringing; it will stop in a moment."

  "Don't worry me, Judy," cried Bessie. "Do you know where my bag is?"

  Judy ran into the middle of the room, turned round, and began to laughecstatically. "Do you know where it is, you little good-for-nothing?Have you put it hiding?"

  "Yes, yes, yes," screamed the child, jumping up and down in her joy.

  "Then, if you don't give it to me at once, I'll--"

  But Judy had dodged her and was out of the room. Up to the attic flewthe child, and after her dashed Bessie. The bag was found in the cornerof the linen-cupboard. Bessie aimed a frenzied blow at Judy, who onceagain dodged her, then the schoolgirl ran downstairs and was out of thehouse.

  "Bessie, for shame!" said her brother, who was standing smoking hiscigarette in a very lazy manner in the garden. "Why, you'll never getfull marks."

  "Don't," said Bessie. "I feel quite hunted between you all."

  She had got on the highroad now, and could walk away in peace. She was atall girl, somewhat bony-looking at present, with a face which showedabundance of intellect, large dreamy eyes, a wide mouth, a flat nose, along chin. Bessie was certainly not at all a pretty girl; but,notwithstanding this fact, there were few of all the pupils at MiddletonSchool who approached her in popularity. She was clever without being ascrap conceited, and was extremely good-natured, doing her work for thepleasure of doing it and not because she wanted to outstrip aschoolfellow. She was conscientious too, and would have scorned to do amean or shabby thing; but she was hopelessly untidy, careless to afault, late for school half her days, getting into countless scrapes andgetting out of them as best she could--the butt of her class as well asthe favorite, always true to herself and indifferent to the censures orthe praise of her fellow-creatures.

  "Well, Bess, is that you? Do wait for me," called out a panting voicein the distance.

  Late as she was, Bessie stopped. It was never her way to leave afellow-creature in the lurch.

  A girl with dancing eyes and rosy cheeks came panting and puffing roundthe corner.

  "I just caught a sight of the red ribbon with which you tie your hair,"she said. "I am so glad you are late; I am too, and I am quite ashamedof myself."

  "Why in the world should you be ashamed of yourself, Alice?" askedBessie. "I don't suppose you meant to be late."

  "Of course not; but I shall lose my mark for punctuality; and you know,Bessie, I am feverishly anxious to get a move, and to--to win thescholarship at the midsummer break-up."

  Bessie yawned slightly.

  "Come on, Alice," she said; "I am disgracefully late as usual, and weneed not make matters worse. I suppose we must wait in the hall nowuntil prayers are over."

  "It's too bad," said Alice. "I'll tell you afterward how it happened,Bessie. I am glad you waited for me. They always scold you so much forbeing late that they will not take so much notice of me. May I slip intomy place in form behind you?"

  "If you like," said, Bessie.

  They entered the great schoolhouse, turned down a long corridor,deposited their hats and jackets on the pegs provided for the purpose,and went into the schoolroom just when the pupils were filing into theirdifferent classes.

  Both girls had marks against their names for unpunctuality. Alicefrowned and fidgeted, turned scarlet, glanced nervously at herfellow-pupils, but Bessie took the matter with her wonted calm. Soon sheforgot all about it. She became absorbed in her different studies, eachone of which she had prepared with extreme attention. As she answeredquestion after question her great, full, dreamy eyes seemed to lightenwith hidden fire, her face lost its plainness, the intellect in ittransformed it. One or two other girls in the class watched her with aslight degree of envy.

  Bessie was very high up in the school. As usual she quickly rose to thehead of the form; this position she kept without the slightestdifficulty during lesson after lesson.

  Alice, muddled already by that mark for unpunctuality, got through herwork badly; as Bessie rose in the class Alice went down. At the end ofthe morning's work the two girls were far as the poles asunder.

  "I can't think how you do it," said Alice, coming up to Bessie duringrecess, and linking her hand through her arm. "You never seem to minddisgrace at all."

  "Of course I mind disgrace," answered Bessie. "Come out into theplayground, won't you Alice? We can't talk in here."

  They went out and began pacing up and down the wide quadrangle devotedto the purpose. Other girls passed them two and two, each girl talkingto her special companion.

  "How very handsome Gwin Harley looks this morning," said Alice, pausingin her grumbling to gaze at a slender and lovely girl who passed them,walking with another dark-eyed, somewhat plain girl of the name of ElmaLewis.

  "I wish she was not such friends with Elma," said Bessie. "I like Gwinvery much indeed; I suppose every one in the school does."

  "Catch Elma not making up to her," said Alice. "Why, you know Gwin is asrich as ever she can be; she has a pony-carriage of her own. I cannotmake out why she comes to Middleton School."

  "Because it is the best school in the neighborhood," said Bessiesomewhat proudly. "It is not a question of money, nor of anything butsimply of learning; we learn better at Middleton School than anywhereelse; there are better teachers and--"

  "But such a rum lot of girls," said Alice. "Of course we all go in sets,and our set is quite the nicest in the school; but all the same, Iwonder a rich man like Mr. Harley allows Gwin to come here."

  Gwin and Elma drew up at that moment in front of the other two.

  "Bessie," said Gwin, "I saw you carrying everything before you thismorning. But," she added hastily, "that is neither here nor there. Ishall never be a great learned genius like you, but I shall admiregeniuses all the same. Now, I want to say that Elma is coming to teawith me this afternoon, and will you both come as well?
We have a gooddeal to talk over."

  Bessie's face lightened.

  "I should like it very much indeed," she said; "but you know I must getthrough my studies first."

  "Oh, you won't take long over them."

  "Yes, but I shall," answered Bessie; "there is a very stiff piece ofGerman to translate this afternoon. I can manage French and mathematicsof course, and--"

  "Oh, don't begin to rehearse your different studies," said Gwin, holdingup her hand in a warning attitude. "I don't care in the least what youlearn, Bessie; I want you to come. Because," she added, "you are such anhonest creature."

  "Why should not I be honest?" said Bessie, opening her eyes wide. "Ihave never had any temptation to be anything else."

  "My dear Bessie, you are too painfully matter-of-fact," said Elma. "Gwinmeant that your nature is transparent--it is a beautiful trait in anycharacter."

  "Well, Bessie, will you come or will you not?" interrupted Gwin.

  "Yes, I'll come. I'll manage it somehow," said Bessie. I can't resistthe temptation."

  "And you too, Alice?" said Gwin, turning to Alice Denvers, who waswatching Bessie with envious eyes.

  "I don't suppose mother will let me. I am ever so vexed," said Alice.

  "But why not, dear; you have nothing special to do to-day?"

  "Well, I had a bad mark for unpunctuality, and--"

  "What does that signify?"

  "But listen; I have gone down several places in class. Father and motherare so particular; they seem to think my whole future life depends uponmy position in school. Of course I know we are not very rich, likeyou--" Here she flushed and hesitated.

  Gwin Harley flushed also.

  "When you talk like that," she said, "I feel quite ashamed of being welloff. I often long to be poor like--like dear little Elma here." As shespoke she patted her somewhat squat little companion on her arm. "Butnever mind, girls; I am not one of those who intend to throw away all mymoney; that is one reason why I want to have a good talk this afternoon.You must come, Alice; you simply must."

  "But there is another reason," said Alice. "Kitty Malone is comingto-day."

  "Kitty Malone! Who in the name of fortune is she?"

  "Oh, a wild Irish girl."

  "Truly wild, I should think, with that name. 'Kitty Malone, ohone!' Iseem to hear the refrain somewhere now. Isn't there a song called 'KittyMalone'?"

  "There is a song called 'The Widow Malone,'" said Bessie; "don't youknow it? You read all about it in 'Harry Lorrequer.'"

  "But who is Kitty Malone, Alice?"

  "I say a wild Irish girl."

  "And what has she got to do with you?"

  "She is coming to board with us. She is going to join the school, andmother is to have the charge of her. A precious bore I shall find it."

  "When did you say she was coming?" asked Gwin eagerly.

  "I expect she is at home by now; she was to arrive this morning."

  "Delightful!" said Gwin, clapping her hands, "she shall come too. I wantbeyond anything to become acquainted with a real aborigine, and ofcourse any girl called Kitty Malone hailing from the sister-isle mustbelong to that species. Bring the wild Irish girl with you by all means,Alice; and now, as you have no manner of excuse, I'll say ta-ta for thepresent." She kissed her pretty hand lightly to the two girls, and wenton her way, once more accompanied by her faithful satellite, Elma.

  "Isn't she fascinating?" said Alice; "aren't you quite in love with her,Bessie?"

  "Dear me, no," answered Bessie Challoner. "I never fall in love in thatsort of headlong fashion; but all the same," she added, "I admire Gwinvery much, only I do wish she would not take up with Elma."

  "So do I," said Alice.

  "It was very kind of her to ask us," continued Bessie, "and I for oneshall be delighted to go. I have not the least doubt that in a big houseof that sort they have 'Household Encyclopaedia,' and I want to look upthe article on magnetic iron ore."

  "Oh, what in the world for?" cried Alice.

  "I am interested in magnets, and--but there, Alice why should I worryyou with the sort of things that delight me. I am going, and that is allright. You will be sure to come too; won't you Alice?"

  "Yes, I must manage it somehow; and as Gwin has asked Kitty Malone itwon't make it quite so difficult. I know mother would not let me leaveKitty this afternoon, for it is, from the money point of view, a greatthing for us her coming. Her people are quite well off, although theyare Irish. They live in an old castle on the coast of Donegal, and Kittyhas never been out of the country in which she was born. They are payingmother very well to receive her, and mother is ever so pleased. Ofcourse it's horrid for me for she will be my companion morning, noon,and night; we are even to sleep in the same room. It was that that mademe late for school this morning, and got me that horrid, horrid mark forunpunctuality."

  "But why? I don't understand," said Bessie.

  "Well, you see, I put it off until the last minute. I know it was all myfault; but I would not empty the cupboard in the corner of the room,although mother told me to do so at intervals for the past week. Well,mother came in this morning and found it choke full--you know the sortof thing, full to bursting, so that the door wouldn't shut--and she saidthat I should empty it before I went to school. I told her I should belate, and mother said it was a just punishment for me. Didn't I blessKitty Malone! But of course I set to work, and I scrambled out thethings somehow. Of course I am in hot water, and father is so terriblyparticular; but I will try and come. Yes, I'll try and come, and I'llbring Kitty."

  "Very well; if you are going we may as well go together," said Bessie."Gwin never mentioned the hour she had tea; but I suppose if we are atHarley Grove by five o'clock it will do."

  "Yes, I should think so," said Alice in a dubious voice. "It is a pityshe did not mention the hour. There she is still hobnobbing with Elma.I'll just run across the quadrangle and ask her."

  Alice left her companion, obtained the necessary information from Gwin,and came back again. "She says if we are with her sharp at five it willdo quite well, and we are to stay until nine o'clock, then we can all gohome together."

  "Delicious!" said Bessie. "I love being out late. I hope there will be amoon, and that there won't be many clouds in the sky, for I want toexamine the position of some of the planets. Did I tell you, Alice, thatUncle John has a telescope through which I can see the asteroids?"

  "What on earth are they?" cried Alice, yawning as she spoke.

  "Oh, the very small planets."

  "Then, my dear, I hope you will see them. But really, Bessie, I can'trun round nature as you do--your intellect is quite overpowering; onemoment you want to get up information with regard to magnetic iron ore,and the next you confound me with some awful observation aboutasteroids. Good-by, Bessie; good-by. I shall be late for dinner, andthen no chance of going to the fair Gwin's this afternoon."

  "Well, if you do go, call for me," shouted Bessie after her; "I'll waitfor you until half-past four, then I'll start off by myself."

  "Yes, yes, I'll come if I can, and bring Kitty also if I can."

  "Be sure you don't fail. I'll look out for you."

  Alice put wings to her feet and set off running down the dusty road, andBessie more soberly returned home.