Wild Kitty

  CHAPTER III.

  IS THAT THE GIRL?

  Kitty and Alice went up to their bedroom, where Kitty began to unpackher trunks and toss her dresses about--they were all new and most ofthem were gay. She had scarcely a quiet-looking dress in the entirecollection.

  "What will you do with those?" said Alice, who saw nothing to admire inthe fantastic clothes, and much to condemn. Alice had not the smallestlove for dress, and at this period of her life she considered any painstaken over clothes a sheer waste of time.

  "But don't you like them?" said Kitty. "I thought girls loved prettydress. Aunt Honora says so, and so did Aunt Bridget when she came to seeus at Castle Malone a month ago. When she heard I was going to Englandshe said: 'Why, then, my dear Kitty, you must titivate up. It will neverdo for them to see you not looking as bright as a sunbeam and as gay asa cricket. It's colors you'll want, Kitty, and rich materials, andspangles, and jewels, and beads, and all the other fal-lals.' And fathersaid to Aunt Bridget:

  "'Why then, now, Biddy,' said he, 'you just get what's right for thechild, for she hasn't a notion, and no more have I, what's worn in thatforeign place England.'

  "So Aunt Bridget said: 'A wink's as good as a word,' and I'll dress herup in dashing style!' So she took the measure of my chest, and the roundof my waist, and the length of my skirt, and she saw how many inches Iwanted in the sleeve, and she said: 'You leave the rest to me, Kitty.'And of course I did, and in three weeks' time down came a trunk thatwould make your eyes shine even to look within it. Oh! wasn't it justthe darling entirely! Here's one of the dresses. Now, what do you thinkof that?"

  As Kitty spoke she pulled out a pink nun's-veiling, made up withinnumerable ruffles and frills and laces and embroidery, a really verypretty dress for quite a gay party, but totally unsuitable for aschoolgirl of Kitty Malone's age.

  "Why, it's a long dress?" said Alice. "How old are you, Kitty?"

  "It's fifteen I'll be my next birthday, darling. Well, and is thereanything wrong about fifteen? I always thought it was a jewel of anage."

  "Yes, but this dress is long; why, there's a train to it!"

  "Oh, mercy me! so there is," said Kitty. "To tell you the truth, I nevereven tried on the skirt, I was so bamboozled and overexcited with theothers. A train to be sure! Oh, won't I bewitch 'em entirely. Let me tryit on, darling. Have you got a long looking-glass anywhere?"

  "Not in this room," answered Alice; "it is not necessary."

  "Not necessary? Well, now, I should say it's the one thing you ought tohave in every room, a long looking-glass that you can see yourself infrom top to toe. Why, half your elegance is lost if you cannot see howyou look your own self. Is there one in any other room?"

  "In mother's dressing-room, I think."

  "And where's that room situated, my jewel?" asked Kitty.

  "Oh, at the other end of the passage; but really, Kitty--"

  Kitty, however, was off. Alice stayed in her room, too disgusted tofollow her.

  "Something must be done to put a stop to this," she thought. "Of course,mother won't keep a girl of that sort. Why, she's a regular wild Indian;I shall be ashamed to take her out this afternoon."

  But at that moment a high voice, accompanied by peals of laughter, washeard shouting for Alice.

  "Alice, mavourneen, come along this minute! Alice, come quick! quick!Why, it's enthralling I am! You never saw anything like me before, didyou? Oh, the Blarney Stone, what it has done for me. Come, Alice, come,come quick!"

  "What can be the matter?" called Mrs. Denvers from downstairs. "Hasanything happened?"

  "Oh, it's only me, dear Mrs. Denvers. Do come up this minute, my dearducky woman, and see me. I found a dress with a train to it in my trunk,a new dress from Dublin, and I'm in it, and beautiful I look. Come upand see me. I'm gazing at myself in your glass. I never saw anything solovely in the whole course of my life."

  Mrs. Denvers and Alice now both appeared upon the scene. Kitty in hernew dress, with a train nearly a foot on the ground, was steppingbackward and forward before the long glass in Mrs. Denvers' wardrobe.Her eyes were flashing with merriment and delight. Her small arched feetwere dancing a _pas de seul_ in and out of the many flounces whichbefrilled the end of the pink dress.

  "Well, do you like it?" called Kitty. "How do you think I look? Did youever see anybody more elegant in all your born days? Oh, if only thedear old dad could see me! I feel as if I must kiss myself." Here shecommenced blowing kisses vigorously at the gay figure reflected in theglass.

  "Come, Kitty," said Mrs. Denvers, "you are not going out in that dress."

  "And why not, my dear Mrs. Denvers? Why shouldn't I go out and captivatethe natives? That's what a pretty girl is made for."

  "Not in this country," said Mrs. Denvers in a somewhat severe voice. "Itcannot be done; Kitty, you are much too young to wear a dress of thatsort. While you are with me you must expect to be guided by my taste andwishes."

  "But, dear Mrs. Denvers, Aunt Bridget ordered it."

  "Well, of course, dear, you can wear it at Castle Malone, but nothere--at least, not out of doors. Yes, my child, it is a very prettydress; but I do understand what is right for girls to appear in. Youmust have something quieter, Kitty."

  "Then come along and choose for me," said Kitty, who was as good-naturedas she was high-spirited and volatile. "Come straight and choose, forAlice, poor child, is troubled with the sulks."

  "What do you mean?" said Alice indignantly.

  "But isn't it true, darling; you have such a frown between your brows,and it doesn't improve you. There, cheer up, Alice, honey! Why, it's thebest of friends I want to be with you; but you don't like me, not a bit.I'll win you yet, Alice, aroon! But at the present moment you're sayingin your heart: 'What a nasty, forward, ill-bred girl that is, and I amashamed, that I am, that my schoolfellows should see me with the likesof her.'"

  "Come, come, Kitty, no more of this," said Mrs. Denvers. "If you aregoing out you have no time to lose. Yes, let me see your wardrobe. Ithink this dark-blue dress is the best."

  "But you are not expecting me to go out in the open air without a body!"said Kitty, "and there's nothing but a skirt to this. I suppose I maywear one of my pretty blouses?"

  "Yes; that skirt and a nice blouse will do. Now then, get ready, both ofyou, as quickly as you can. Kitty, remember I expect your things to beput away tidily."

  "To be sure, ma'am. Why, then, it would be a shame to spoil all thesepretty garments. I'll put them away in a jiffy, and come down looking asneat as a new pin."

  Alice, who had brushed out her hair, put on a clean collar and a pair ofcuffs, was now standing waiting for her friend.

  "Look here," she said suddenly, "will you be long putting away yourthings and dressing?"

  "Not very long, darling; but I must curl my fringe over again."

  "I wish you wouldn't wear a fringe, Kitty; none of the nice girls do atthe school."

  "Is it give up my fringe I would?" answered Kitty.

  "What a show I'd be! Why, look at my forehead, it's too high for thelines of pure beauty. Now, when the fringe comes down just to here, why,it's perfect. Aunt Bridget said it was, and she's a rare judge, I cantell you. She was a beauty in her youth, one of the Dublin beauties; andyou can't go to any city for fairer women than are to be found inDublin. I tell you what it is, Alice, I see you are in a flurry to beoff. Can I overtake you?"

  "You can," said Alice suddenly. "You can come to me at BessieChalloner's house."

  "Bessie Challoner!--what a pretty name!--Challoner! I like that!"answered Kitty, looking thoughtful. "And where's her house, aroon? Whatpart of the neighborhood is it situated in?"

  "Come here to the window and I'll show you. When you leave this houseyou turn to the right and walk straight on until you come to CherryLodge--that's the name of the house. Bessie and I will be waiting foryou."

  "Well, then, off you go, and I won't keep you many minutes."

  Alice ran out of the room. She found her mother waiting for herd
ownstairs.

  "Oh, mother," said Alice, "she's too dreadful."

  "Come now, no whispering about me behind my back," called a gay voiceover the stairs. "I thought it would be something of that sort. That'snot fair--out with your remarks in front of me, and nothing behind."

  "Kitty, Kitty, go back and dress, you incorrigible child!" called Mrs.Denvers.

  "Mother!" said Alice.

  "My dear Alice," said her mother, "you will soon learn to like that poorchild. She has a great deal that is good in her, and then she is sopretty."

  "Pretty?" muttered Alice. "Oh, I see you're bewitched like the rest ofthem."

  She left the house, feeling more uncomfortable, depressed, and angrythan she had done for several years.

  Mr. Denvers was a lawyer, and made a fairly good income; but his largefamily and the education of his boys had strained his resources to suchan extent that he was very glad to accept the liberal sum which Kitty'sfather was paying for her. Alice knew all about this, and at first wasmore than willing to help her family in every way in her power. She didnot murmur at all when she was asked to give up half of her room to theIrish girl. She was quite willing to take her under her patronage, toshow her round, to try to get friends for her among her ownschoolfellows--in short, to make her happy. But then Alice had neverpictured any one in the least like Kitty Malone. She had imagined asomewhat plain, shy, awkward girl, who would lean upon her, who wouldgive her unbounded affection, and follow her lead in everything. Now,this sparkling, racy, daring Kitty was by no means to her mind. Therewas not the least doubt that Kitty would not be guided by anybody, thatshe would never play second fiddle, and there was also a dreadful feardown deep in poor Alice's heart that she would fascinate her schoolfellows instead of disgusting them, and that Alice's own dearest friendswould leave her in favor of the stranger.

  She walked very slowly, therefore, a frown between her brows, discontentand jealousy in her heart.

  Bessie was waiting for her at the gate.

  "Why, Alice," called out Bessie, "how late you are. We shan't get toHarley Grove by five o'clock."

  "I can't help being late; it is a blessing you see me now," answeredAlice. "I wonder you waited for me, Bessie."

  "Well, my dear," answered Bessie, "I would much rather walk with youthan take a solitary ramble by myself. I thought," she added, "you weregoing to bring that new Irish girl with you. Has she come?"

  "Has she not come?" answered Alice. "Oh, Bessie, Bessie, it is becauseof her I am late. Oh, Bessie, she is quite too dreadful."

  "How so?" asked Bessie.

  "She is the most extraordinary, wild, reckless, absolutely unladylike,vulgar person I ever came across in the whole course of my life."

  "What a lot of adjectives!" laughed Bessie. "I shall be quite curious tosee her; from your description she must be a monster."

  "She is a monster, a human monster," answered Alice; "and the worst ofit is, Bessie, that in some extraordinary way she has fascinated bothfather and mother, and even Fred--Fred, who hates girls as a rule; theyare all so taken up with this blessed Kitty Malone that they don't mindher perfectly savage manners. I can tell you I am quite miserable aboutit."

  "Poor Alice," answered Bessie in a sympathetic tone. "I suppose then,dear, she is not coming with us?"

  "Oh, yes, she is; she is following us. She could not find anything quietenough to put on."

  "Quiet enough to put on! What do you mean?"

  "Oh, my dear, her wardrobe is beyond description. She absolutely wantedto come to poor Gwin's quiet little tea party in a dress fit for a ball,flounced and frilled and laced and ribboned, and with a train to it,absolutely a train, although she is not fifteen yet."

  Bessie could not help laughing. "I am sorry she is fond of dress," sheanswered; "I can't bear that sort of girl."

  "Oh, you'll positively loathe her, Bessie. I quite pity you at thethought of having to walk with her this afternoon."

  "My dear Alice, we must make the best of it," answered Bessie, "and Idon't suppose she will quite kill me; she will be amusing at any rate."

  "Amusing enough to those who have not got to live with her day andnight," answered Alice in a very discontented voice. "Oh, and here shecomes," she added; "and, look, she is running and racing down the roadand waving her hands to us. Oh, Bessie, it is intolerable! Don't youpity me?"

  "What! is that the girl?" cried Bessie. "How very--"

  "How very what?" asked Alice.

  "How very pretty she is!"

  "Pretty," said Alice in a tone of such withering scorn that Bessie couldnot help gazing at her friend in astonishment.