CHAPTER IV.
TIFFS ALL AROUND.
Kitty's dark-blue skirt was all that was correct and proper; it reachedjust to her ankles, and her remarkably small and beautifully-shaped feetwere encased in the neatest possible tan boots. But the blouse of lightpink silk, all bedizened with bunches of ribbons and lappets of lace,was in Alice's eyes almost as painfully unsuitable as the trained skirt.Kitty wore a little close-fitting cap of dark-blue velvet on her head.Her hair, of the softest, cloudiest black, true Irish hair, was piled upin a thick mass behind; in front it waved and curled round her whiteforehead. Kitty was very tall, and, child as she still was in years, hada more formed figure than most girls of her age. She was drawing on hertan gloves now, and unfurling a parasol of tussore silk with a heavylace fall.
"I do hope I'm smart enough," she said, panting slightly as she spoke."Is this one of your schoolfellows?"
"Yes; my friend, Miss Challoner."
"Haven't you got a Christian name?" asked Kitty, staring frankly withher wide-open eyes at Alice's friend.
"Bessie is my name," answered Bessie Challoner.
"Do you mind my calling it to you? I like Challoner awfully, and if Iwere to say Challoner without the Miss it might do, but Miss is sostiff. I hope I may be Kitty to you, and then you won't object to beingBessie to me."
"Not a bit," answered Bessie heartily; "but we are a little late, andhad better walk on as fast as we can."
Gwin Harley lived in a beautiful house about two miles away, and thegirls turned down a path which led across some fields in the directionof Harley Grove. The time of year was toward the end of May, and theweather was perfect.
Kitty, who had been silent for a time, now stood in the middle of thefield, threw both her hands to her sides, let her parasol drop on theground, and opened her mouth wide.
"Have you gone quite mad?" asked Alice in a severe tone.
"Mad is it?" said Kitty; "not I. I am taking in some of the air." Hereshe began to breathe very deeply and with considerable noise. "Why, myducky girls, the pair of you, I was fairly suffocated in that bandbox ofa house; now the breeze here is fine and fresh, and I want to fill mylungs. Is there any objection?"
"Oh, none I am sure," answered Bessie; "but you really did look mostextraordinary."
"I am glad no one was passing at the moment," said Alice. "What wouldthey have thought?"
"Does it matter what they think?" asked Kitty. "We never mind whatanyone thinks of us in Ireland. Ah, the dear old place; how I pine forit! There now, my lungs are full, and we can go on again."
She picked up her parasol and began to stride forward.
"Isn't she a horror?" whispered Alice to Bessie.
"Hush!" answered Bessie; "she only does it to amuse us. The thing is totake very little notice; we'll soon tame her down."
"Is it taming me you're after?" called back Kitty. "Well, then, you'llnever do that, for I come of a wild lot, and I have always been calledWild Kitty from the moment I could speak. But there's no harm in me, nota bit. Now, then, I'll walk as sober as you please. What shall we talkabout?"
"Is there anything you would like to ask us?" said Bessie.
"I am sure then, darling, I don't think there is. Wouldn't you like toask me some questions? I'm as open as day. I'll lay bare all thethoughts of my secret soul to the pair of you, if you care to hearthem."
"I don't know that we do," said Bessie. "You see we have got to makeyour acquaintance yet, Kitty."
"Ah, now it's nice of you to call me Kitty, and that's a very prettylittle voice you have; soft and winning. How is it you say some of thosewords? I can't get my tongue round them; but I dare say I will after abit."
"Would you like to know what kind of place we are going to?" askedBessie.
"Oh, I'll wait until I get there," answered Kitty. "I suppose it's likeall other places; there's a house and some girls; and if we are asked totea, why we'll get tea, and they'll think me no end of an oddity, andI'll think them a lot of muffs; but that don't matter. Oh, my dears, ifyou only saw Old Ireland, and if you only knew the free life we havethere, and the beautiful air that comes blowing in from the broadAtlantic. Why, it's smothered I'll be in this queer place. I doubt ifI'll stay long. I'll write to father, and ask him to take me backagain."
"I would if I were you," said Alice stoutly.
"Now, what do you mean by that, 'Alice, aroon?'"
"I mean," said Alice, who had now almost lost control over her temper,"that if you go on as you have done since you came here, we shall noneof us like you, and I for one shall be delighted when you return toIreland."
As Alice spoke Kitty's charming face suddenly lost its brilliant color;it became white, and her dark eyes flashed with an angry fire. She stoodperfectly still for a moment, then began to walk on a little faster thanbefore.
"You have hurt her, Alice," said Bessie; "you should not have saidthat."
"I don't care; she made me do it; she is intolerable."
"Still, you had no right to speak as you did; remember she is astranger."
Here Bessie ran after Kitty, and tried to slip her hand through her arm;but the Irish girl made an impatient movement, and, shrugging hershoulders, walked on quicker than before.
"Oh, leave her alone," whispered Alice; "let us talk about things thatinterest us. Why should all lives be upset by her? There, she is goingon in front; let us fall back and talk about interesting things. Haveyou finished your work yet?"
"Oh, yes; I had a great deal to do this afternoon. I do hope, Alice,that Gwin won't mind if I ask her to let me go into the library. I musttake a peep into 'Household Encyclopaedia;' it is such a chance."
"Oh, I am sure she won't mind," replied Alice. "Gwin is the soul of goodnature. I only dread what she will think."
"Oh, you need not dread anything," said Kitty, suddenly turning roundand coming back to the girls. "I shan't be here long; don't be afraid."
"Please, Kitty," said Bessie; "don't mind what Alice said just now, shewas vexed, because we are not quite accustomed to manners like yours.You will soon get into our ways, you know."
"Never, never!" cried Kitty.
"Well, at any rate, don't mind about it now. Do you think you will likeyour school life?"
"No; I shall just hate it."
"What a pity that will be; but I'm sure you don't know what you aresaying. You are vexed with Alice, and I don't wonder--Alice, you werevery hard on her."
"Oh, never mind," answered Kitty; "don't ask her to apologize. I can gohome again. I don't want to be with people who have made up their mindsto dislike me. All the folks at home love me, and--" Here tears droppedfrom her eyes, splashing down her cheeks in bright round pearls.
"I didn't mean to vex you," said Alice, who was disconcerted at thisevident grief. "I dare say I shall get accustomed to you after a bit. Imean I do not really want you to go home."
Kitty's face underwent a change, rapid as a flash of lightning.
"If you want to make friends, Alice, it's as right as rain," she cried."I know I was vexed, but it is over now; yes it is over. I am willing tobe friends if you are willing."
"Of course," said Alice; "and I know I ought not to have spoken as Idid; but you do manage to fret me dreadfully. I never saw a girl exactlylike you before."
"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 seemedto consider. "There's no use," she continued after a moment; "I mean Imust be myself whatever happens. I must be genuine. Please, Alice, letme be genuine for a week; if at the end of that time you find meintolerable, why I'll be off."
"Don't say anything about that," said Bessie; "everything is quite newto you, and Alice did speak unkindly; but please, Kitty, don't be angryif 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; weare quieter here and more reserved. Perhaps you had better--"
/>
"Oh, I know exactly what the end of that pretty little speech is goingto be," said Kitty; "but I cannot. I must be Kitty Malone or nothing. Iwas born that way. Why, bless you, it is in our race. Aunt Bridget wasjust the same when she was young, and so was Aunt Honora, and evenfather; oh, and--and Laurie. If you only saw Laurie and Pat! Oh, I wishyou knew Laurie; if you saw him you would say, 'If there is a broth of aboy in the world he is one.'"
The girls had now reached the avenue gates at Harley Lodge, and thelodge-keeper ran out to open them. A few moments later they foundthemselves in sight of the pretty, modern mansion which Mr. Harley hadlately purchased. The door was opened by a butler in very correctlivery, and the young folk were shown into a handsome drawing-room atthe other side of a broad hall. There was no one in the room when theyentered, and Kitty walked straight up to a glass let into the wall, andbegan to survey herself with intense satisfaction. She had by this timeforgotten the rebuff which Alice had given her, tears had only added tothe brightness of her eyes, and her momentary fit of vexation and temperhad deepened the color in her blooming cheeks. She nodded to herselfwith smiles of intense satisfaction, pushed her velvet cap in a slightlymore coquettish way over her mass of black curls, and began once againto 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 thedoor was opened, and Gwin Harley and Elma Lewis entered the room.
Gwin, statuesque, graceful, dressed in the most suitable manner, made aperfect contrast to poor, excitable Kitty. Kitty's words had beenplainly audible, and Alice flushed deeply with vexation.
"Why, then, I had better introduce myself," said Kitty, who was by nomeans abashed. "Are you Miss Harley? You have got a very nice lookingglass, let me tell you; it shows off the figure to perfection."
Gwin could not help coloring in surprise and astonishment.
"I am Kitty Malone, at your service," continued Kitty. "Shall I drop youa courtesy in the true Irish way? Some of us bob like this--so, and someof us step back like this," here Kitty performed a very elaborate andvery graceful courtesy, then stood upright, and laughing heartily,showed rows of pearly teeth. Gwin held out her hand.
"May I introduce my friend, Elma Lewis? Elma, this is Miss Malone."
"Kitty Malone. I won't be called Miss Malone," said the incorrigibleKitty.
"Won't you all come upstairs now, girls?" said Gwin, who perceived thatboth Alice and Bessie were annoyed by Kitty's manners.
"If we take off our things we can go into the library and have a goodgame before tea, or would you prefer a walk?"
"Well, I for one am tired," said Kitty. "The fact is," she continued,these boots are somewhat tight. They're awfully becoming, you know,aren't they? but they do squeeze a little just across the toes; however, as Aunt Honora says, 'Pride feels no pain,' and I am desperateproud of my feet. Shall we all look at our feet, and see which has gotthe prettiest pair?"
"I don't think we will just at present," said Gwin. "If you are tiredyou must take your boots off. Have you not just come from Ireland?"
"Bless you, yes," answered Kitty; "I only arrived to-day. The place isas new to me as it can be. Up to the present I don't think much of it,although you have got a lovely house, Miss Harley--fine and airy withplenty of big rooms. I suppose you have got money _galore_; have you?"
"I believe we have," said Gwin in some astonishment, and a haughty notecoming into her voice.
"Ah, now, don't begin to be proud and stiff!" exclaimed Kitty. "It isquite wonderful; every one I speak to here seems to take me the wrongway. What in the world do you all mean? I thought when I came to Englandthat people would say, 'Well, now, that's a remarkably pretty girl. I amsure she's Irish by the twinkle in her eye and the roll of the brogue inher voice; but we'll like her all the better for that.' But, bless myheart! that's not the way you're taking me. Every time I open my lipssomebody seems to think I have said something wrong. Upon my word it's anice state of things, and I, the darling of my old father. If AuntHonora and Aunt Bridget were here they would soon put matters straight;and Laurie, dear, darling, old Laurie, if he saw his Kitty put upon,wouldn't he give it to you all?"
"We none of us want to put upon you, Miss Malone," said Gwin Harley.
"_Miss_ Malone!"
"Yes," said Gwin firmly, "it is the custom here to call girls by theirsurnames for a little until we get to know them; but I am sure," sheadded kindly, "you will soon be Kitty with us all, for I see you arevery nice, although you have not quite our ways."
"Ah, there, that is all I want you to say," answered Kitty with aprofound sigh, "and now I'll go upstairs and slip off my bits of boots,for they are a trifle tight. Can you lend me a pair of your shoes, MissHarley?"
"Yes, with pleasure," replied Gwin, and turning, she led the way out ofthe room. The rest of the evening passed off better. Kitty became alittle subdued, and satisfied herself with talking less, and castingravishing glances of delight and roguish entreaty first at one girl andthen at the other. It was extremely difficult to withstand her, for hervoice was low and singularly sweet, her eyes were beautiful, she couldnot do an ungraceful thing, she was altogether like a bright, flashingmeteor, and soon she began to exercise an extraordinary fascination bothover Bessie Challoner and Gwin Harley. Having got over her firstastonishment, Gwin began to take a sincere interest in the prettystranger. The lovely expression of her coral lips made her long to kissthem, and to assure the Irish girl that she for one would be her friend;but the next instant Kitty said something so very much against the grainthat Gwin felt as much repulsed as a moment before she was delighted.
Immediately after tea Bessie went off to the library to hunt up herdarling "Encyclopaedia."
"Now that she has gone," exclaimed Gwin, "we are not likely to get herback for some time. What a remarkably earnest student she is!"
"The Earnest Student?" interrupted Kitty. "I thought that was the nameof a religious book. I think father has got it at home."
"Perhaps so," replied Gwin, "but we always call it to Bessie. She iswonderfully clever. She gets on splendidly at school, taking everythingbefore her. I am certain she is the kind of girl who will make her markby and by."
"I hate studies!" said Kitty in her low, humorous voice.
"I am sorry for that," answered Gwin, "for if you come to school youwon't be at all popular if you do not care for your books."
"Popular? How do you mean? Is it with the teachers or with the girls?"
"Well, with both I fancy."
"Then, I tell you what," exclaimed Kitty, "I'd like to bet with you thatyou are wrong--that I'll be the most popular girl in the whole of theschool with the teachers--yes, with the teachers--and the scholars aswell."
"You must be very conceited," exclaimed Elma, who had sat silent duringthe greater part of the evening, taking Kitty in, however, all the same.
"Conceited? No more than you are," cried Kitty, "but I know my powers,and I have not kissed the Blarney Stone for nothing."
"Oh, you need not tell us that ridiculous story over again," said Alice.
"But I should like to hear it," cried Gwin.
"You really would not Gwin; it is too absurd. We must show Kitty, nowshe has come to live among us, what is real wit and what is not. Herway of talking is only silly."
Gwin knit her brows, and looked pained.
"I would rather not correct her now," she said in a gentle voice. Thenshe added, her eyes sparkling with sudden eagerness, "Would it not be agood opportunity for talking over the rules of our society, girls?"
"Oh yes," cried Elma, "yes; but is it well to----"
Here she bent forward, and began to whisper vigorously in Gwin's ear.
"Yes, I think so," answered Gwin.
"I wouldn't, I really wouldn't," said Elma. "I am certain Alice agreeswith me."
"I can guess what you are saying," cried Alice, "and I do agree mostheartily."
"And I can guess what you are saying," exclaimed Kitty, starting to herf
eet with flashing eyes. "You don't want to talk about your society orwhatever it is because I am present. Well, discuss it without me. I'llfind my way to the library. Poor dear Bessie is the only decent oneamong you, and I shall go and sit with her. How do you know I won't takeup with literature just to spite you all? I can do anything I have amind to, and that you will soon find to your cost."
She ran out of the room as she spoke, slamming the door behind her.
"There, that's a comfort," cried Alice, breathing freely for the firsttime. "Did you ever, girls, in all your lives, see a more terriblecreature? What is to be done? Why, she will disgrace us all at school.You know what a very nice set we are in at present."
"Oh, an excellent set," said Elma, in a sarcastic voice.
"You know, Elma, that we do belong to the nicest set in the school, andI am sure, Gwin, your father--"
"You need not drag father in," cried Gwin. Father likes all the people Ilike."
"But, surely--" began Alice.
Gwin looked at her gravely, then she nodded.
"I am not quite certain yet," she said; "but I think it highly probablethat I shall take up that poor, wild, little Kitty. At least she isfresh; she speaks out her mind plainly, and there is a great deal toadmire about her."
"Then, listen, Gwin," cried Alice; "if she is taken into our specialsociety I will resign."
"Will you really, Alice? What, if I ask you to stay?"
"It is hard to refuse you, dear; but you scarcely know what all thismeans to me. I am rubbed the wrong way; I don't understand myself. Butfrankly, Gwin, you are not going to ask Kitty Malone to join oursociety?"
"What if it does her good?"
"But ought we not to think of the others? She is a perfect stranger tous all at present."
"But she won't be long. Bless the child, she has no reserve in her, andI do want to help her, poor little girl! Well, we need not decide thatpoint at present."
"Do let us vote to leave her out," cried Alice.
"No, Alice, we will leave the point undecided. Now let us set to work,and begin to form our rules, for really we have no time to lose."
"But what are we to do without Bessie?" exclaimed Alice. "Whateverhappens, we cannot do without Bessie Challoner; she will be the life andsoul of the whole society. Shall we send for her, Gwin?"
"No, Kitty is with her, and they had better not be disturbed."
"What a difference Kitty makes," cried Alice. "I did think we shouldhave had a delightful and heavenly evening, and it has been all ructionfrom first to last."
"Because you dislike her so much, Alice," said Gwin.
"Well, I do," said Alice; "I can't abide her. But do I show my dislikeso plainly?" she added.
"Rather! Any one can see it in the curl of your lip and the expressionin your eyes; and then you say such terribly withering things to thepoor girl. You try to crush her."
"Well, if I may say what I think," cried Elma, "Kitty Malone seems to meto be a very unpleasant, vulgar girl, and I cannot imagine why she hasbeen sent here."
"Oh, as to her vulgarity," said Alice, who suddenly felt forced todefend herself against Elma's spiteful speeches, "Kitty comes of a veryold family, and her father is as rich as ever he can be. They live in awonderful castle in County Donegal, just overhanging the sea; and fromwhat I learn are considered county people. Father was very pleased tohave her, and whatever she is, she is a lady by birth."
"So she is rich?" remarked Elma in a low voice. "Well, at any rate,"she continued after a pause, "she is very pretty."
"Pretty!" cried Gwin; "I should just think she is. She has the mostlovely face I ever saw. Girls, it is quite true what she says; she willfascinate any number of people. That dashing, daring way of hers will godown with numbers. Yes, she will make a revolution in Middleton School,I am certain."