whipped!'"

"They were only mock queens," said Kate.

"Very true. But, little woman, it is ALL mockery, unless it is the
SELF that makes the impression; and I am afraid being perched upon
any kind of pedestal makes little faults and follies do more harm to
others. But come, put on your hat: we must not keep Papa waiting."

The hat was the worst part of the affair; the colour of the blue edge
of the ribbon had run into the white, and the pretty soft feather had
been so daggled in the wet, that an old hen on a wet day was
respectability itself compared with it, and there was nothing for it
but to take it out; and even then the hat reminded Kate of a certain
Amelia Matilda Bunny, whose dirty finery was a torment and a by-word
in St. James's Parsonage. Her frock and white jacket had been so
nicely ironed out, as to show no traces of the adventure; and she
disliked all the more to disfigure herself with such a thing on her
head for the present, as well as to encounter Aunt Barbara by-and-by.

"There's no help for it," said Lady de la Poer, seeing her
disconsolately surveying it; "perhaps it will not be bad for you to
feel a few consequences from your heedlessness."

Whether it were the hat or the shock, Kate was uncommonly meek and
subdued as she followed Lady de la Poer out of the room; and after
giving the little maid half a sovereign and many thanks for having so
nicely repaired the damage, they walked back to the palace, and up
the great stone stairs, Kate hanging down her head, thinking that
everyone was wondering how Amelia Matilda Bunny came to be holding by