"Why Lady Irwin has been here
herself, and your papa and I accepted the
invitation."

" I told Lady Irwin I was not going. I did
not know she would ask me till just now.
Edward talked of it, but she never mentioned
it before."

"But why you won't go I can't understand,"
pursued Miss Birkby. "You may never have
such another opportunity in your life. You
would see everything and be in the first society
without any trouble or fatigue. I'm sure
Lady Irwin won't be pleased. I can't
understand it. Why, when I was your age,
I used to go wherever any one asked me. I
hope you are not thinking about leaving
your papa and me, because, you know, we
could manage perfectly well by ourselves, and
of course we can't expect to keep you
always."

" I think you and papa would be lonely if
I went," returned Catherine, slowly ; " but
that is not the only reason— that is not the
principal reason. I don't think it would be
well for me to go, and I hope you and papa
will let me stay at home."

"Of course, dear, we are only too glad to
have you. I'm sure I don't know what we
should do without you for three months: I
am only sorry about Lady Irwin."

" Well, now, this is too bad," cried Edward
Irwin, brushing into the room, his face flushed
and his eyes bright with tears of vexation.
" Only think, Miss Birkby— only imagine—
mother says Kitty won't go."

" She has just been telling me so, my dear,
and I am quite as much surprised as you
can be."

" But she doesn't know what she's refusing"
returned Edward, impetuously— "how
should she? She has never been out of this
stupid little village in her life; and you can't
think what trouble father and I had to get
mother to ask her. She's horribly cross now,
and says she knew she wouldn't come, though
how she could tell that I can't think. Why
won't you come, Kitty dear?" he continued,
changing at once from anger to entreaty.
'You don't know what a splendid place
London is. Mother goes everywhere, and
everyone comes to our house; and I'll work
so hard— I'll do my lessons every morning
before I go out. Do come, that's a dear!"

" I should like it very much," said Catherine,
making an attempt to conceal the sadness
with which she spoke. "I should like
to see what we have so often talked of, and
lo hear the clever and famous men whom you
know, but I do not think it would be right
for me to go."

"But why, Kitty, why? We won't do
any thing wrong. You can go to church three
times on a Sunday, if you like; and there's
a church close to us where they have service
every day. Then there are lots of beggars,
ten times more miserable than any you
can find at Swallowfield, who come and ask
you for money without you're having the
trouble of hunting them up. Isn't she
tiresome, Miss Birkby? She thinks it such a
clencher to say she does not think it would
be right. There's no good to be got out of
her after that; and the beauty of it is, she
does not condescend to tell us why she does
not think it would be right— O, Kitty!
you can't think what a rage Frank is in. He
turned as white as a sheet, and got up from
the table where we were all sitting at lunch.
He didn't say a word; but I wouldn't be in
your shoes for something!"

" It does seem a pity, doesn't it, Kitty?"
put in her aunt. " I'm sure your papa and I
could manage very well. I could get Jane
Thorpe to read to him: she reads particularly
well for a person in her condition, and he
would soon get accustomed to her."

" Oh, Miss Birkby, it's of no use," cried
Edward, sorrowfully. He had been studying
Catherine's half-averted face. " She don't
wish to come, and, of course, we cannot wish
to compel her, however sorry we may be."

Kitty sighed heavily, but said nothing.

"If you'd only give a reason," pursued
Edward, after a pause, and in a softer tone.
" If you would only say why you don't wish
to come."

" That I cannot do, Edward ; but will you
not put faith in me? Will you not believe
me when I say that it is not for want of love
to you that I have refused,— that I should
have enjoyed it more than I can tell? Will
you not believe this on my simple word, and
trust and love me still ? You do not know
how sad it will make me when you are
away, to think that you are judging hardly
of me."

The boy was silent, his face worked with
various emotions. At length it grew clear and
firm. He took Kitty's hand, and pressing it
firmly between his own, exclaimed,

"It is hard, but I'll do it. I'll do it for you,
Kitty. I'll believe what you say ; I won't
think hardly of you myself; and I won't let
any one else think hardly of you. You never
deceived me; you have always been dearer
and kinder than any sister could have been, I
am sure; so, if you say it's not for want of
love, I will believe you and love you all the
same; but you won't mind writing to me?"

Catherine assured him that she looked
forward to his letters as a great source of
amusement during his absence; and the boy
at last departed, much comforted, and firmly
resolved to maintain the virtue of Kitty's
incomprehensible determination against all
assailants.

But another and a harder struggle yet
awaited her— a struggle she would gladly have
avoided, had it been possible. The intimate
friendship which had subsisted from infancy
between herself and Frank Irwin gave him a
right to some further explanation of the
motives of her conduct— a right which,
whatever the difficulty in which she might be