sed her feet,
exposing a long length of fine, open-work, silk stocking.
"I desired enormously to see you," she continued. "But when you came in
I grew shy. It is so with one sometimes."
"You should use your influence, Lady Calmady," Mr. Cathcart was saying.
"Unquestionably the condition of the workhouse is far from
satisfactory. And Fallowfeild is too lenient. That _laisser-aller_
policy of his threatens to land us in serious difficulties. The place
is insanitary, and the food is unnecessarily poor. I am not an advocate
for extravagance, but I cannot bear to see discomfort which might be
avoided. Fallowfeild is the most kind-hearted of men, but he has a
fatal habit of believing what people tell him. And those workhouse
officials have got round him. The whole matter ought to be subjected to
the strictest investigation."
"It is very nice of you to have wanted so much to see me," Dickie said.
His eyes were softly bright.
"Oh! but one always wants to see those who are talked about. It is a
privilege to have them for one's relations."
"But--but--I'm not talked about?" the boy put in, somewhat startled.
"But certainly. You are so rich. You have this superb _chateau_. You
are"--she put her head on one side with a pretty, saucy, birdlike
movement--"_enfin_," she said, "I had the greatest curiosity to make
your acquaintance. I shall tell all my young friends at the convent
about this visit. I promised them that, as soon as mamma said we should
probably come here. The good sisters also are interested. I shall
recount a whole history of this beautiful castle, and of you, and
your----"
She paused, clasped her hands, looking away at her mother, then
sideways at Richard, bowing her little person backwards and forwards,
laughing softly all the while. And her laughing face was
extraordinarily pretty under the shade of her broad-brimmed hat.
"It is a great misfortune we stay so short a time," she continued. "I
shall not see the half of all that I wish to see."
Then an heroic plan of action occurred to Richard. The daring
engendered by his recent act of disobedience was still active in him.
He was in the humour to attempt the impossible. He longed, moreover, to
give this delectable little person pleasure. He was willing even to
sacrifice a measure of personal dignity in her service.
"Oh! but if you care so much, I--I will show you the house," he said.
"Will you?" she cried. "You and I alone together. But that is p
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