as uniformity to Lady Hester, imparted a sense of security to Kate. It
was not alone the splendor that surrounded her, the thousand objects of
taste and elegance that seemed to multiply around them, that captivated
her so much, it was the absence of all care, the freedom from every
thought that this state was a mere passing one. This Kate felt to be the
very highest of enjoyments, and when at night she whispered to herself,
"To-morrow will be like to-day," she had said everything that could
brighten anticipation.

Her father's letter was the first shock to this delightful illusion. Her
own false position of splendor, in contrast to his poverty, now came up
palpably before her, and in place of those blissful reveries in which
she often passed hours, there rose to her mind the bitter self-accusings
of a penitent spirit. She never slept through the night; the greater
part of it she spent in tears. Her absence from home, brief as it was,
was quite enough to make her forget much of its daily life. She could,
it is true, recall the penury and the privation, but not the feelings
that grew out of them. "How changed must he have become to stoop to
this!" was the exclamation that she uttered again and again. "Where was
all that Dalton pride they used to boast of? What become of that family
dignity which once was their bulwark against every blow of Fortune?"

To these thoughts succeeded the sadder one, of what course remained for
her to adopt? a difficulty the greater since she but half understood
what was required of her. He spoke of a bill, and yet the letter
contained none: before she broke the seal, it felt as though there was
an enclosure, yet she found none; and if there were, of what use would
it be? It was perfectly impossible that she could approach Sir Stafford
with such a request; every sense of shame, delicacy, and self-respect
revolted at the very thought. Still less could she apply to Lady Hester,
whose extravagant and wasteful habits always placed her in want of
money; and yet to refuse her father on grounds which he would deem
purely selfish was equally out of the question. She well knew that in
a moment of anger and impatience stung by what he would call the
ingratitude of his children he would probably himself write to Sir
Stafford, narrating every circumstance that drove him to the step. Oh,
that she had never left him, never ceased to live the life of want and
hardship to which time had accustomed her! all the