Part 12 (1/2)
”I did not mean to hurt you, I am sure,” said Kate eagerly. ”Don't cry, Salome.” For Salome had covered her face with her hands to hide her tears. ”How stupid of me! Do forgive me,” said Kate, really distressed.
”But I am always doing things of this kind--saying the wrong thing, or the right thing at the wrong time.”
Salome made a great effort to recover herself, and soon was amused at Kate's lively description of the ways and doings at Edinburgh Crescent.
Kate could describe things well, and delighted in having a listener, especially one like Salome, who was sure not to break in with--”You told me that before;” or, ”I have heard that story a hundred times.”
But though Salome was amused, she was secretly surprised at Kate's free discussion of the faults and failings of her brothers and sisters.
Salome would never have dreamed of talking of Raymond's selfishness and arrogance to outside people, nor of Ada's serene contentment with herself, which was pa.s.sive rather than active, but was trying enough at times. Salome's loyalty in this respect is worth considering; for the inner circle of home ought to be sacred, and the veil should not be lifted to curious eyes to make public faults, and troubles which too often arise from those faults and darken with cold shadows the sky of home.
The boys did not return by four o'clock, and Salome, afraid that she should not be at Elm Fields in time to receive her mother, set out to walk there alone. Just as she was leaving the house, her aunt and Louise arrived in a carriage, and were saying good-bye to two ladies, who had evidently driven them back from the luncheon party.
As the little black figure glided past, Kate, who was standing in the hall, called out--
”Mamma! that is Salome. Mamma!--”
Mrs. Wilton took no notice of the exclamation; and Louise said, ”Pray, do go back, Kate.”
But Lady Monroe had turned her head, and was looking earnestly after Salome's retreating figure.
”Is not that Salome Wilton, Eva,” she asked of her daughter,--”poor Mr.
Arthur Wilton's child? I should so much like to speak with her. I was at Maplestone last year.--Stop by that young lady,” she said to the footman, as he closed the carriage-door--”the young lady in black.”
”How very odd!” exclaimed Louise, as the carriage drove off. ”Lady Monroe never said she knew the Maplestone people. Why, Salome is getting into the carriage. How absurd! Mamma, I do believe they will drive her home--next door to the baker's shop. Just fancy!”
”Do not stand on the pavement making such loud remarks, Louise,” said Mrs. Wilton.
”I am glad,” exclaimed Kate, ”that Lady Monroe is so kind. And how could you and mamma cut Salome like that?”
”How should I know who she was?” said Louise sharply. ”I did not go to Maplestone with you.”
”Well, mamma _must_ have known her anyhow,” said Kate. ”She is the nicest girl I have seen for a long time. I shall make a friend of her, I can tell you.”
CHAPTER VIII.
ARRIVALS.
”I shall be so glad to drive you home, my dear,” Lady Monroe said, as Salome seated herself in the carriage. ”I have the pleasure of knowing your mother; and Eva and I spent a very pleasant day at Maplestone last year, when I renewed an old acquaintance. How long have you been in Roxburgh? I wish Dr. Wilton had told me you were here.”
”We only came the other day,” Salome said; ”indeed, mother and the children are not here yet. We expect them at five o'clock, and that is why I am so anxious to get back. We have lodgings at Elm Fields.”
”You must direct us when we get nearer the place. Have you been spending the day at your uncle's?”
”Reginald and I met Kate and Digby on the down, and we went back to dinner. I have not seen Aunt Anna yet. Uncle Loftus came to see me.”
Then fearing she might have left a wrong impression she added--
”Uncle Loftus is very kind to us.”