Wild Kitty by L. T. Meade

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Fred was as careless a schoolboy as could be found in the length and
breadth of Great Britain; Kitty was equally reckless, perhaps more so,
if that were possible. That special evening Fred decided that they would
not take the short cut across the common.

"A beastly lonely place at this hour of night," he said, "and the road
is so uneven and there are no lamps. We'll go round by the 'Spotted
Leopard'. You don't mind, do you, Kit?"

"Never a bit," answered Kitty. "Come along, Fred; stretch your legs. I
must get to see Elma Lewis to-night as quickly as possible."

Fred walked fast, and Kitty laughed and talked and danced by his side.
Now that she was in action she forgot her fears; her volatile spirits
rose once again to a height. She entertained Fred with numerous stories
relating to Paddy Wheel-about, Laurie, and Pat, and invited him to come
to Castle Malone for the whole of the summer holidays, assuring him that
the fishing would be splendid, the cycling superb, the riding such as
would make your eyes water, and the shooting and the hunting when that
season began all that could stimulate the least ambitious of boys. And
when Kitty spoke she was apt to illustrate her words, dancing now in
front of her companion, now keeping by his side, now lingering a little
behind him, all the time gesticulating with eyes and lips and gay
motions. She was like a restive young colt--beautiful, excitable. The
boy felt that he had never had such a charming companion before.

All went well, and Kitty's bizarre dress, her hair tossed wildly over
her head and hanging partly down her shoulders, her little feet encased
in the shoes with the rosettes and steel buckles, the frills on her gay
skirt, her bare arms, failed to attract any special attention. But when
they got into the neighborhood of the "Spotted Leopard," a blaze of
light fell full across her. She was a remarkable enough figure to be out
at this hour, and when joined to the somewhat peculiar spectacle, the
wild-looking boys--for they were little more--who had congregated round
this special corner, saw the college cap on her head, they made a rush
forward and the next moment had surrounded her.

They began to laugh and to make facetious remarks. It was all done in a
second. Kitty stood stock still as if some one had shot her. He gay
manner ceased on the instant, she drew herself erect, and the next
moment aimed a blow straight from the shoulder at the nearest of the
men, knocking him over as completely as though he had been a ninepin;
then taking hold of Fred's arm--who had come to her rescue, although the
poor lad had not the least idea what to do--marched away, her face as
crimson as her gay silk blouse.

"Well, Kitty, you did that splendidly," he said.

"The impertinent wretches! Don't speak to me about them," answered
Kitty. But just then she came face to face with a more serious
obstacle. This was no less a person than Miss Worrick herself.

Now if there was a prim mistress in the whole length and breadth of
England, it was Matilda Worrick. She liked girls to be neatly dressed;
she could not bear to see them out at what she called inclement hours.
She would have thought it the height of impropriety for Kitty and Fred
to walk together at such an hour; but when in addition to this Kitty
went out in a dress which Miss Worrick would have thought very
unsuitable for home, when she wore a boy's college cap on her head, and
when she had so far distinguished herself as to have been for a moment
the center of a lot of low noisy, rough men, Miss Worrick felt that the
moment had come for her to interfere. She grasped Kitty Malone firmly by
the arm.

"What are you doing, Miss Malone?" she said. "How dare you be out at
this hour?"

"How dare you interfere?" answered Kitty, who, excited already, could
not for a moment brook Miss Worrick's interference.

"I shall march you straight home," said the mistress. "If Miss Sherrard
knew of this she would expel you from the school. You are a very wicked
girl. Fred Denvers, you can go home or go on with your walk, just as you
like, but I have charge of Miss Malone; she belongs to the Middleton
School, and I must see her home before I go a step further."

Poor Kitty felt staggered.

"I really meant no harm," she said. "I cannot imagine what you are
talking about. I could not get my hat and jacket, and as it was most
important that I should see Elma Lewis, Fred promised to take me to her
house. Please don't ask me to return now with you, Miss Worrick, I
really cannot come."

But Miss Worrick was inexorable. She grasped Kitty very firmly by the
arm, turned abruptly in the direction of home, and walked forward with a
firm step. There was no help for it; Kitty Malone must accompany her.
They soon found themselves back again at the Denvers' house. Mr. and
Mrs. Denvers were out, but Miss Worrick inquired for Alice.

"Ask Miss Alice to come to me immediately," she said to the servant.

The girl looked pityingly at Kitty, who was a prime favorite with her,
and then went away to fulfill her errand.

The instant Alice got this somewhat startling message, she forgot her
lesson, unlocked her bedroom door, and flew downstairs as fast as she
could. Miss Worrick was standing in the center of the drawing-room.
Kitty was leaning up against one of the window-curtains. Kitty's face
was red, her hair was tossed in wild confusion, and her dark eyes seemed
to flash fire.

"Alice," said Miss Worrick, coming straight up to Alice when she
appeared. "I must ask you to take charge of Kitty Malone."

"Why so?" asked Alice in some astonishment.

"Just do what I say. Your father and mother are out. Kitty is not to
return to school to-morrow until she hears from Miss Sherrard. In the
absence of your parents I put her in your charge, Alice. She has behaved
disgracefully, and I shall have the great pain of reporting what I have
just witnessed to our head-mistress to-morrow."

So saying, Miss Worrick walked quickly out of the room and out of the
house.

"Well, thank goodness, she's gone--the old cat!" cried Kitty.

"Now, Kitty what have you done?" said Alice. "Oh, this is terrible!
Fresh scrapes! We seem to live in constant hot water. What is the matter
now, you headstrong and dreadful girl?"

"Nothing is the matter," replied Kitty, "absolutely nothing. It is all a
storm in a teacup. But if any one is to blame you are the one."

"I?" cried Alice. "What next?"

"Well, you are. You would not give me my hat and jacket. I have a nice
plain hat and a jacket to match. I should have put them on if you had
not locked our bedroom door, and prevented my coming into the room,
which is just as much mine as yours. As it was imperative for me to see
Elma Lewis immediately, I asked Fred if he would walk round with me to
her house, and I wore his college cap. When we were passing the 'Spotted
Leopard' a lot of rough, rude boys rushed out and began to make
impertinent remarks about my dress. I just gave one of them a black eye
and knocked him over. The next moment I found myself under the fire of
Miss Worrick's anger."

"And small wonder," said Alice. "Kitty, what is to be done? Before you
came here I thought myself a respectable girl--all we Middleton girls
did; and now for such a fearful thing to happen. Why, it will be all
over the place in the morning. They will talk of it everywhere. Oh,
Kitty, you have disgraced me for ever."

Here Alice burst into tears.

"Good gracious!" cried Kitty, "what are you crying about? I did nothing;
it was the rude men, or boys, or whatever you like to call them, who
were to blame."

"You did nothing, going out in that dress?" cried Alice--"that red
blouse, and your arms bare, and with Fred's college cap on your head. I
should not be a bit surprised if Fred were expelled; he will certainly
get into an awful scrape. Oh dear! oh dear!"

"I cannot imagine what you are talking and crying about," said Kitty.
"But there; I have got a headache, and am going to bed. I suppose there
is no chance of my--Oh, poor Laurie! What a wicked girl Elma Lewis is!"

Kitty rushed up to her room. Not that she was frightened--that was not
her way; but she saw that disagreeable things might be pending. In the
meantime her most anxious thoughts were for Laurie. What would happen if
she could not send him the money by an early post?

CHAPTER XIII.

COVENTRY.

Early the next morning Mrs. Denvers was a good deal surprised by
receiving a letter from Miss Sherrard. It ran as follows:

"DEAR MRS. DENVERS: I have just heard an extraordinary story from Miss
Worrick with regard to Kitty Malone. She met Kitty with your Fred at a
late hour last night just outside the 'Spotted Leopard.' She was not
wearing an outdoor jacket, and had the college cap on her head. In
consequence, she was spoken to impertinently by some men outside the
public-house, and when Miss Worrick came up had just knocked one of them
down. Miss Worrick says, further, that Kitty showed her great
impertinence; and, in short, that the whole affair was wrong and
disgraceful. It is my painful duty to look thoroughly into this matter,
and I should be glad if you would bring Miss Malone to Middleton School
this morning in order that I may do so.

"Yours very truly,

"EMMA SHERRARD."

"My dear Alice," said Mrs. Denvers, as her daughter entered the room,
"what does this letter mean?"

Alice read Miss Sherrard's letter hastily.

"It is exactly as I feared, mother," she said.

"Exactly as you feared, Alice! What do you mean?"

"I always told you that Kitty would be certain to get into trouble
sooner or later. Well, she got into trouble last night."

"But what occurred?"

"What occurred!" said Fred, who came into the room at that moment. "I
thought you would be talking about poor Kitty. I will tell you exactly
what did occur mother; but first I want to say something else. Kitty is
just as nice a girl as we ever had in the house. She has not a low nor a
small thought in her, but she is excitable, and she has high spirits;
and yesterday evening, when I went into the drawing-room, I found her
there alone, and in no end of a fret because one of her brothers in
Ireland had got into trouble. He had written to her; but she would not
tell me what he said. For some extraordinary reason, which none of us
know, it seems that Elma Lewis can get him out of his trouble, I cannot
pretend to explain what this means; but such is the fact. Poor Kitty was
wild to see Elma, and she asked me if I would walk over to her house
with her. Of course I promised to do so, for it was difficult not to be
good-natured to the poor thing."

"At what hour was this, Fred?" interrupted Mrs. Denvers.

"It was rather late, I will own, mother--about half-past nine."

"Go on, my dear boy. What happened then?"

"Now it is Alice's turn to get into your black books," continued Fred,
darting a malicious look at his sister. "She doesn't like Kitty, and
nothing that Kitty can do or say is right in Alice's eyes."

"Fred!" interrupted Alice--"Mother, you have no right to listen to him."

"I am bound to hear both sides of this story, Alice," said Mrs. Denvers.
"Fred shall tell his side first. Go on, my boy."

"When I arranged to go with Kitty, she ran upstairs to the bedroom which
she shares with Alice to get her jacket and hat; but Alice had locked
the door, and wouldn't let her in. I heard her crying out and begging of
Alice to do so, or, at least, if she would not, to throw her hat and
jacket out of the window; but no! good nature was not to be expected
from my amiable sister. So then Kitty ran down again, and said that as
the night was warm it really didn't matter a bit; and she asked me to
lend her a cap. I took one from the peg in the hall, never seeing that
it was one of the college caps with the coat-of-arms in front, and Kitty
popped it on, and off we set. We neither of us gave a thought to her
dress, and we walked as fast as possible, chatting and laughing all the
way. All went well till we got in front of that horrid 'Spotted
Leopard,' and there were several lads round the door. I suppose Kitty's
dress attracted them as well as her pretty face, and all in a minute
they surrounded her. Such awful cheek! But do you think Kitty would put
up with their impudence? I never saw a girl like her! She just aimed a
blow straight at one of the fellows and knocked him over as if he were a
ninepin. I can tell you she had the laugh on her side; and I don't
believe we would have heard anything more about it if that mean,
spiteful old cat, Miss Worrick, hadn't been coming round the corner. She
ran up to Kitty, and took possession of her, and marched her off home,
and put her, forsooth, into Alice's custody. That's the explanation of
Miss Sherrard's letter, mother."

"Dear, dear!" said Mrs. Denvers, "it was a most imprudent thing to do.
But of course, the poor child meant no harm."

"I should rather think she didn't," cried Fred. "The one you ought really
to blame is Alice. No one would have looked at Kitty, nor thought of her
one way or the other, if Alice had let her get her hat and jacket; but
what was she to do when she was locked out of her own bedroom?"

"But she know very well that she was breaking rules," said Mrs. Denvers.
"None of the Middleton girls are allowed to go out so late in the
evening except with a suitable escort; and she certainly ought not to
have gone in the dress you have described, my boy. It was all
thoughtlessness; but she will get into sad trouble, I fear."

"Of course it was thoughtlessness," said Fred; "and the poor thing was
bothered, dreadfully bothered, about that brother in Ireland."

"I see, mother," said Alice, "that you are determined to take Kitty's
part, whatever happens. She has bewitched you, like all the rest of the
household."

"Whom have I bewitched now?" asked Kitty, who entered the room just
then.

"Oh, my poor, dear child," said Mrs. Denvers, "you have got into a
terrible scrape. See this letter which I have just received from your
head-mistress."

Kitty eagerly seized the letter. She was looking pale, and not like her
usual self. There were heavy black lines under her eyes. The poor girl
had spent most of her night crying. The thought of Laurie was resting on
her soul; she was very anxious about him, and, in consequence, very
miserable.

"I always said that I hated England," she cried, coloring as she spoke.
"Oh, I know, dear Mrs. Denvers, that you are a jewel; and as to Fred, he
is no end of a darling; and Mr. Denvers is as nice as a man could be.
But there's Alice, and she doesn't like me; and Miss Worrick can't bear
me; and half the girls at school don't understand me, and, for the
matter of that, I don't care for them; and I don't understand your
stiff, proper English ways. I am far and away too wild for England. In
Ireland we would only laugh at such a thing as happened last night. What
does it matter what sort of dress I go out in and at what hour I go, if
I am doing right all the time? I wanted to do something for Laurie, for
my dear, dear Laurie, who is in terrible trouble. Please, Mrs. Denvers,
let me go home again. Let us both go to Miss Sherrard this morning, and
tell her that it is all no use; Kitty Malone was born wild, and wild she
will remain to the end of the chapter. Let me go home; please let me go
home."

"My poor child, I must not yield to you," said Mrs. Denvers. "You have
been sent to us to be made----"

"Oh, don't begin it," cried Kitty. "Don't begin to talk about all the
things you have got to make me, and which, to be plain, none of you will
ever succeed in doing, for I was not half nor a quarter as wild in
Ireland. I was considered in some ways the steady one of the family; but
here, why, I am provoked every minute of the day, and I--I can't stand
it much longer."

"Well, sit down now and eat your breakfast," said Mrs. Denvers, "for we
must soon hurry off to school. Miss Sherrard will want to see us
immediately after prayers."

Kitty seated herself, but she had little appetite for her food.

"Why don't you eat?" said Fred, who sat next to her. "Let me help you to
some of this porridge; it's jolly well done this morning, and you always
like it, don't you?"

"Yes, yes; but I have got a lump in my throat and I can't swallow,"
answered Kitty. "Thank you all the same, Fred. There are some chocolates
in my room if you like to steal up in the middle of the day in case I am
locked up, as twenty to one I shall be for this misdemeanor. There are
some chocolates and some rock and toffee. You'll find them in my
left-hand drawer in the corner. I spent a whole sovereign on sweets, as
I told you a few days ago."

"Oh, thanks. Kitty, you are a brick," whispered Fred back in return.

"You can take as many as you like, Fred, old boy, for you are a comfort
to me. I'll tell Laurie about you when I go back to Ireland."

"Come, come, my dears, no whispering," said Mrs. Denvers. "Kitty, if
you don't care for your breakfast, perhaps you will go up to your room
and make yourself tidy for school."

"Oh, am I not tidy now?" asked Kitty, jumping up and running to the
glass in the overmantel to survey herself. "By the way, do you like my
frock? it is quite new. Don't you think this crimson cotton with the
white sash very effective? It is cool, and yet it's gay. I belong to the
Tug--Oh! I must not mention that. I never did know such a place for
awful secrets as England. I am drawn up every minute by remembering that
I must not mention something. But how do you like my dress, Mrs.
Denvers?"

"Well, dear, I prefer quieter colors; but we will say nothing more about
it just now. Get your hat, Kitty; put on your outdoor shoes and your
gloves, and come down immediately, for it is time for us to start."

As soon as Kitty had left the room, Alice turned to her mother.

"Are you going to encourage her in all her follies?" she asked.

"My dear Alice, I don't encourage her in her follies; but there is no
use in pulling the poor child up short every moment. She expresses
herself quite correctly when she says that she is wild; she is not
broken in. But to break in Kitty Malone too thoroughly might also break
her heart, and that would never do."

"Break her heart! I don't believe she has got one," said Alice. "But,
there, I can't talk any longer on the subject."

It occurred to her that if she started immediately for school she might
call for Bessie Challoner, and tell her what had occurred. Bessie's
sympathy would be very sweet, and Alice determined to secure it if
possible. Accordingly she left the house, and at about a quarter to nine
found herself at Bessie's house. Bessie was standing on the steps
drawing on her gloves.

"Why, Alice, what has brought you?" she cried; "and where is Kitty?"

"Oh, don't mention Kitty, if you don't want to rile me beyond
endurance," said Alice.

"I always do rile you when I mention her," answered Bessie; "but where
is she all the same?"

"With mother--she is coming to school with mother."

"With your mother--to Middleton School! What do you mean?"

"Only that mother has to bring her. She has got into no end of a row."

"Has she? Oh, I am sorry," said Bessie.

"Come out, Bessie," said Alice. "It is a little early to get to school,
but we may as well walk slowly, and I will tell you all about it as we
go along."

This Alice did, enlarging much upon Kitty's dress, her crimson blouse,
her bare arms, the college cap on her head, and her little shoes with
the buckles and rosettes.

"She must have looked very pretty," said Bessie.

"Bessie! you really are enough to distract any one. Don't you see the
impropriety of it? Don't you see that this will get all over the place?
People will say that a Middleton girl dressed so unsuitably, so loudly,
that--Oh, don't you see it?"

"I don't see anything in it except a silly, foolish, girlish act,
uncommonly like Kitty Malone," said Bessie. "You are determined to make
mountains out of molehills, Alice."

"No, I am not," said Alice. "Anyhow," she added in a tone of triumph,
"Miss Sherrard thinks it disgraceful, and so does Miss Worrick. I
suppose you will not go against the opinions of your own mistresses,
will you, Bessie?"

"No, no; only I am sorry," said Bessie.

At that moment the two girls reached the school. Gwin Harley was just
driving up in her pony-chaise, and Elma, as usual, was hovering near.

"Come here, Elma," said Bessie. "We have something to tell you."

"What is it?" asked Elma eagerly.

"It is this," cried Alice. "Kitty Malone has got into the most awful
scrape. She went out last night with Fred in her red blouse--you know
that silk blouse she is so fond of wearing?"

"I know; it is sweetly pretty," said Elma.

"Oh, there you are, praising everything she does! Well, anyhow, she wore
it, and her arms were bare to the elbow, and she stuck one of the
college caps on her head. What will Dr. Butler say? She went with Fred
to see you, by the way, Elma. She seemed in an awful hurry to find you.
She was in trouble about her brother, and she said you could help her."

"Oh, nonsense!" said Elma. But she had an uncomfortable feeling as the
words were said. Her thoughts naturally flew to the eight pounds which
Kitty had lent her. Was it possible that Kitty wanted that lovely, that
beautiful money back again? Elma had felt almost as if she were living
in fairyland from the time that money had been in her possession. She
would part with it whenever the day came with extreme reluctance.

"Well," she said, "I cannot imagine what she wanted with me; but what
happened?"

"Some rough boys outside the 'Spotted Leopard' were rude to her, and she
knocked one of them down; then Miss Worrick came up and took her back to
our house; and Miss Sherrard has written this morning to say that mother
is to bring Kitty up to school, and that she must have the whole thing
explained. There's a nice state of things!"

At that moment the great gong was heard, and the girls were obliged to
troop into the school. Prayers were conducted as usual in the great
hall, and Elma, Gwin, Alice, and Bessie looked in every imaginable
corner for a sight of Kitty Malone. She was not present, however, and
they were obliged afterward to go to their class-rooms without having
caught sight of her beaming and brilliant face.

Meanwhile Mrs. Denvers and Kitty were waiting for Miss Sherrard in the
head-mistress' private sitting-room. Kitty went to the window and looked
out.

"I like Miss Sherrard," she said, turning to Mrs. Denvers as she spoke.
"I am really sorry to annoy her. It is about a fortnight ago since she
spoke to me in this very room; she spoke so kindly, and told me that I
had got talents. I was astonished, for I thought she meant cleverness,
and I have always been told that I am a dunce; she said that she knew I
had good abilities, and that besides I had plenty of other
talents--nice dress, and good looks." Kitty colored and flashed a
half-defiant, half-roguish glance at Mrs. Denvers. "She also spoke about
my money as a talent. Oh, dear, I felt half-conceited, half-delighted
when I left her, and I made up my mind that I would be good; but it
seems useless, more than useless. Oh, my poor money, my poor money! I
have got none of it left now, or at least scarcely any."

"My dear child, no money!" exclaimed Mrs. Denvers. "Impossible. When
you spoke to me last you had about fifteen pounds. Kitty, my dear, it is
wrong for you to squander money in that fashion."

"But I haven't squandered it, Mrs. Denvers, not really. I have not got
it with me, it is true; but most of it is safe, only I must not talk
about that. There's another secret for you. What an awful place England
is! Oh, dear, dear! I am in a muddle about everything. I can't bear to
stand in this room and remember Miss Sherrard's talk. Fancy her saying
that even my dress was a talent! Now there's something in favor of my
nice red cotton and my dear red silk blouse; and fancy her saying still
more that my looks, my pretty face, was a talent! Mrs. Denvers, do you
think me pretty, very, very, very pretty?"

"No, Kitty dear, not so wonderfully pretty as that; but you have an
attractive face. Miss Sherrard is quite right; beauty is a gift,
although it used to be my old-fashioned idea that the less girls were
told about their looks the better."

"Oh, but that's all exploded, love," cried Kitty. "In these days girls
are told when they are pretty just as much as they are told when they
are clever. Now, I'm not clever, not a bit. I'm a dunce, an out and out
dunce; but at any rate I've got a pretty face, and I promised that I
would use my talents for--for the best--" Here she lowered her face and
a thoughtful and beautiful expression came into the great big eyes. "But
it's no use," she added. "I am bothered entirely every day of my life,
and I am just going from bad to worse."

"Hush, Kitty, you must not talk in that way Hark! I think I hear Miss
Sherrard's step." As Mrs. Denvers spoke the door was slowly opened and
Miss Sherrard, accompanied by Miss Worrick, came in. Miss Sherrard was
just about to speak; but before she could utter a word Kitty rushed to
her.

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