initial commit of ebook 28651HEADmain

12 files changed, 26579 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/28651-8.txt b/28651-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c7194b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28651-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8722 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Bessie, by Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Our Bessie
+
+Author: Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+Release Date: May 1, 2009 [EBook #28651]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR BESSIE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "HOW GOOD OF YOU TO COME!" SHE EXCLAIMED. BESSIE SAW SHE
+HAD BEEN CRYING.]
+
+
+
+
+    OUR BESSIE
+
+    BY
+
+    ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY
+
+    AUTHOR OF "MERLE'S CRUSADE," "NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS,"
+    "ONLY THE GOVERNESS," ETC.
+
+    THE MERSHON COMPANY
+
+    RAHWAY, N. J.    NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                           PAGE
+
+    CHAPTER I.
+    BESSIE MEETS WITH AN ADVENTURE            1
+
+    CHAPTER II.
+    "HERE IS OUR BESSIE"                     16
+
+    CHAPTER III.
+    HATTY                                    31
+
+    CHAPTER IV.
+    A COSY MORNING                           46
+
+    CHAPTER V.
+    THE OATLANDS POST-MARK                   61
+
+    CHAPTER VI.
+    LITTLE MISS MUCH-AFRAID                  74
+
+    CHAPTER VII.
+    IN THE KENTISH LANES                     87
+
+    CHAPTER VIII.
+    AT THE GRANGE                           101
+
+    CHAPTER IX.
+    RICHARD SEFTON                          115
+
+    CHAPTER X.
+    BESSIE IS INTRODUCED TO BILL SYKES      129
+
+    CHAPTER XI.
+    EDNA HAS A GRIEVANCE                    148
+
+    CHAPTER XII.
+    THE FIRST SUNDAY AT THE GRANGE          156
+
+    CHAPTER XIII.
+    WHITEFOOT IN REQUISITION                171
+
+    CHAPTER XIV.
+    BESSIE SNUBS A HERO                     183
+
+    CHAPTER XV.
+    "SHE WILL NOT COME"                     197
+
+    CHAPTER XVI.
+    A NOTE FROM HATTY                       209
+
+    CHAPTER XVII.
+    "TROUBLE MAY COME TO ME ONE DAY"        222
+
+    CHAPTER XVIII.
+    "FAREWELL, NIGHT"                       236
+
+    CHAPTER XIX.
+    "I MUST NOT THINK OF MYSELF"            249
+
+    CHAPTER XX.
+    "BESSIE'S SECOND FLITTING"              263
+
+    CHAPTER XXI.
+    ON THE PARADE                           276
+
+    CHAPTER XXII.
+    BESSIE BUYS A JAPANESE FAN              289
+
+    CHAPTER XXIII.
+    MRS. SEFTON HAS ANOTHER VISITOR         303
+
+    CHAPTER XXIV.
+    IN THE COOMBE WOODS                     318
+
+
+
+
+OUR BESSIE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+BESSIE MEETS WITH AN ADVENTURE.
+
+
+It was extremely tiresome!
+
+It was vexatious; it was altogether annoying!
+
+Most people under similar circumstances would have used stronger
+expressions, would have bemoaned themselves loudly, or at least
+inwardly, with all the pathos of self-pity.
+
+To be nearly at the end of one's journey, almost within sight and sound
+of home fires and home welcomes, and then to be snowed up, walled,
+imprisoned, kept in durance vile in an unexpected snowdrift--well, most
+human beings, unless gifted with angelic patience, and armed with
+special and peculiar fortitude, would have uttered a few groans under
+such depressing circumstances.
+
+Fortunately, Bessie Lambert was not easily depressed. She was a cheerful
+young person, an optimist by nature; and, thanks to a healthy
+organization, good digestion, and wholesome views of duty, was not
+given to mental nightmares, nor to cry out before she was hurt.
+
+Bessie would have thought it faint-hearted to shrink at every little
+molehill of difficulty; she had plenty of what the boys call pluck (no
+word is more eloquent than that), and a fund of quiet humor that tided
+her safely over many a slough of despond. If any one could have read
+Bessie's thoughts a few minutes after the laboring engine had ceased to
+work, they would have been as follows, with little staccato movements
+and pauses:
+
+"What an adventure! How Tom would laugh, and Katie too! Katie is always
+longing for something to happen to her; but it would be more enjoyable
+if I had some one with me to share it, and if I were sure father and
+mother would not be anxious. An empty second-class compartment is not a
+particularly comfortable place on a cold afternoon. I wonder how it
+would be if all the passengers were to get out and warm themselves with
+a good game of snowballing. There is not much room, though; we should
+have to play it in a single file, or by turns. Supposing that, instead
+of that, the nice, white-haired old gentleman who got in at the last
+station were to assemble us all in the third-class carriage and tell us
+a story about Siberia; that would be nice and exciting. Tom would
+suggest a ghost story, a good creepy one; but that would be too dismal.
+The hot-water tin is getting cold, but I have got a rug, I am thankful
+to say, so I shall not freeze for the next two hours. If I had only a
+book, or could go to sleep--oh!" in a tone of relief, as the guard's
+face was suddenly thrust in at the open window.
+
+"I beg your pardon, miss; I hope I did not startle you; but there is a
+young lady in the first-class compartment who, I take it, would be the
+better for a bit of company; and as I saw you were alone, I thought you
+might not object to change your carriage."
+
+"No, indeed; I shall be delighted to have a companion," returned Bessie
+briskly. "How long do you think we shall be detained here, guard?"
+
+"There is no knowing, miss; but one of our men is working his way back
+to the signals. We have not come more than three miles since we left
+Cleveley. It is only a bit of a drift that the snow-plow will soon
+clear, and it will be a matter of two or three hours, I dare say; but it
+has left off snowing now."
+
+"Will they telegraph to Cliffe the reason of the delay?" asked Bessie, a
+little anxiously.
+
+"Oh, yes, they will do that right enough; you needn't be uneasy. The
+other young lady is in a bit of a fuss, too, but I told her there was no
+danger. Give a good jump, miss; there, now you are all right. I will
+take care of your things. Follow me, please; it is only a step or so."
+
+"This is more of an adventure than ever," thought Bessie, as she
+followed the big, burly guard. "What a kind man he is! Perhaps he has
+daughters of his own." And she thanked him so warmly and so prettily as
+he almost lifted her into the carriage, that he muttered, as he turned
+away:
+
+"That's a nice, pleasant little woman. I like that sort."
+
+The first-class compartment felt warm and snug. Its only tenant was a
+fair, pretty-looking girl, dressed very handsomely in a mantle trimmed
+with costly fur, and a fur-lined rug over her knees.
+
+"Oh, thank you! How good of you to come!" she exclaimed eagerly; and
+Bessie saw at once that she had been crying. "I was feeling so
+frightened and miserable all by myself. I got it into my head that
+another train would run into us, and I was quite in a panic until the
+guard assured me there was no danger. He told me that there was another
+young lady alone, and that he would bring her to me."
+
+"Yes, that was so nice of him; and of course it is pleasanter to be able
+to speak to somebody," returned Bessie cheerfully; "and it is so much
+warmer here."
+
+"Take some of my rug; I do not need it all myself; and we may as well be
+as comfortable as we can, under the miserable circumstances."
+
+"Well, do you know I think it might be worse?"
+
+"Worse! how can you talk so?" with a shudder.
+
+"Why, it can hardly be a great hardship to sit for another two hours in
+this nice warm carriage, with this beautiful rug to cover us. It
+certainly was a little dull and cold in the other compartment, and I
+longed to get out and have a game of snowballing to warm myself." But
+here her companion gave a little laugh.
+
+"What a funny idea! How could you think of such a thing?" And here she
+looked, for the first time, rather scrutinizingly at Bessie. Oh, yes,
+she was a lady--she spoke nicely and had good manners; but how very
+shabbily she was dressed--at least, not shabbily; that was not the right
+word--inexpensively would have been the correct term.
+
+Bessie's brown tweed had evidently seen more seasons than one; her
+jacket fitted the trim figure, but was not made in the last fashion; and
+the brown velvet on her hat was decidedly worn. How was the young lady
+to know that Bessie was wearing her oldest things from a sense of
+economy, and that her new jacket and best hat--a very pretty one--were
+in the neat black box in the luggage-van?
+
+Certainly the two girls were complete opposites. Bessie, who, as her
+brother Tom often told her, was no beauty, was, notwithstanding, a
+bright, pleasant-looking girl, with soft gray eyes that could express a
+great deal of quiet sympathy on occasions, or could light up with fun.
+People who loved her always said Bessie's face was better than a
+beautiful one, for it told nothing but the truth about itself. It did
+not say, "Come, admire me," as some faces say, but, "Come, trust me if
+you can."
+
+The fashionably dressed young stranger had a very different type of
+face. In the first place, it was undeniably pretty; no one ever thought
+of contradicting that fact, though a few people might have thought it a
+peculiar style of beauty, for she had dark-brown eyes and fair
+hair--rather an uncommon combination.
+
+She was small, too, and very pale, and yet not fragile-looking; on the
+contrary, she had a clear look of health, but there was a petulant curve
+about the mouth that spoke of quick temper, and the whole face seemed
+capable of great mobility, quick changes of feeling that were perfectly
+transparent.
+
+Bessie was quite aware that her new acquaintance was taking stock of
+her; she was quietly amused, but she took no apparent notice.
+
+"Is Cliffe-on-Sea your destination?" she asked presently.
+
+"No; is it yours?" with a quick note of alarm in her voice. "Oh, I am so
+sorry!" as Bessie nodded. "I hoped we should have travelled together to
+London. I do dislike travelling alone, but my friend was too ill to
+accompany me, and I did not want to stay at Islip another day; it was
+such a stupid place, so dull; so I said I must come, and this is the
+result."
+
+"And you are going to London? Why, your journey is but just beginning.
+Cliffe-on-Sea is where I live, and we cannot be more than two miles off.
+Oh, what will you do if we are detained here for two or three hours?"
+
+"I am sure I don't know," returned the other girl disconsolately, and
+her eyes filled with tears again. "It is nearly five now, and it will
+be too late to go on to London; but I dare not stay at a hotel by
+myself. What will mamma say? She will be dreadfully vexed with me for
+not waiting for Mrs. Moultrie--she never will let me travel alone, and
+I have disobeyed her."
+
+"That is a great pity," returned Bessie gravely; but politeness forbade
+her to say more. She was old-fashioned enough to think that disobedience
+to parents was a heinous offence. She did not understand the present
+code, that allows young people to set up independent standards of duty.
+To her the fifth commandment was a very real commandment, and just as
+binding in the nineteenth century as when the young dwellers in tents
+first listened to it under the shadow of the awful Mount.
+
+Bessie's gravely disapproving look brought a mocking little smile to the
+other girl's face; her quick comprehension evidently detected the
+rebuke, but she only answered flippantly:
+
+"Mamma is too much used to my disobedience to give it a thought; she
+knows I will have my way in things, and she never minds; she is sensible
+enough to know grown-up girls generally have wills of their own."
+
+"I think I must have been brought up differently," returned Bessie
+simply. "I recollect in our nursery days mother used to tell us that
+little bodies ought not to have grown-up wills; and when we got older,
+and wanted to get the reins in our own hands, as young people will, she
+would say, 'Gently, gently, girls; you may be grown up, but you will
+never be as old as your parents--'" But here Bessie stopped, on seeing
+that her companion was struggling with suppressed merriment.
+
+"It does sound so funny, don't you know! Oh, I don't mean to be rude,
+but are not your people just a little bit old-fashioned and behind the
+times? I don't want to shock you; I am far too grateful for your
+company. Mamma and I thoroughly understand each other. I am very fond of
+her, and I am as sorry as possible to vex her by getting into this
+mess;" and here the girl heaved a very genuine sigh.
+
+"And you live in London?" Bessie was politely changing the subject.
+
+"Oh, no; but we have some friends there, and I was going to break my
+journey and do a little shopping. Our home is in Kent; we live at
+Oatlands--such a lovely, quiet little place--far too quiet for me; but
+since I came out mamma always spends the season in town. The
+Grange--that is our house--is really Richard's--my brother's, I mean."
+
+"The Grange--Oatlands? I am sure I know that name," returned Bessie, in
+a puzzled tone; "and yet where could I have heard it?" She thought a
+moment, and then added quickly, "Your name cannot be Sefton?"
+
+"To be sure it is," replied the other girl, opening her brown eyes
+rather wildly; "Edna Sefton; but how could you have guessed it?"
+
+"Then your mother's name is Eleanor?"
+
+"I begin to think this is mysterious, and that you must be a witch, or
+something uncanny. I know all mamma's friends, and I am positive not
+one of them ever lived at Cliffe-on-Sea."
+
+"And you are quite sure of that? Has your mother never mentioned the
+name of a Dr. Lambert?"
+
+"Dr. Lambert! No. Wait a moment, though. Mamma is very fond of talking
+about old days, when she was a girl, don't you know, and there was a
+young doctor, very poor, I remember, but his name was Herbert."
+
+"My father's name is Herbert, and he was very poor once, when he was a
+young man; he is not rich now. I think, many years ago, he and your
+mother were friends. Let me tell you all I know about it. About a year
+ago he asked me to post a letter for him. I remember reading aloud the
+address in an absent sort of way: 'Mrs. Sefton, The Grange, Oatlands,
+Kent;' and my father looked up from his writing, and said, 'That is only
+a business letter, Bessie, but Mrs. Sefton and I are old correspondents.
+When she was Eleanor Sartoris, and I was a young fellow as poor as a
+church mouse, we were good friends; but she married, and then I married;
+but that is a lifetime ago; she was a handsome girl, though.'"
+
+"Mamma is handsome now. How interesting it all is! When I get home I
+shall coax mamma to tell me all about it. You see, we are not strangers
+after all, so we can go on talking quite like old friends. You have made
+me forget the time. Oh dear, how dark it is getting! and the gas gives
+only a glimmer of light."
+
+"It will not be quite dark, because of the snow. Do not let us think
+about the time. Some of the passengers are walking about. I heard them
+say just now the man must have reached Cleveley, so the telegram must
+have gone--we shall soon have help. Of course, if the snow had not
+ceased falling, it would have been far more serious."
+
+"Yes," returned Miss Sefton, with a shiver; "but it is far nicer to read
+of horrid things in a cheerful room and by a bright fire than to
+experience them one's self. Somehow one never realizes them."
+
+"That is what father says--that young people are not really
+hard-hearted, only they do not realize things; their imagination just
+skims over the surface. I think it is my want of imagination helps me. I
+never will look round the corner to try and find out what disagreeable
+thing is coming next. One could not live so and feel cheerful."
+
+"Then you are one of those good people, Miss Lambert, who think it their
+duty to cultivate cheerfulness. I was quite surprised to see you look so
+tranquil, when I had been indulging in a babyish fit of crying, from
+sheer fright and misery; but it made me feel better only to look at
+you."
+
+"I am so glad," was Bessie's answer. "I remember being very much struck
+by a passage in an essay I once read, but I can only quote it from
+memory; it was to the effect that when a cheerful person enters a room
+it is as though fresh candles are lighted. The illustration pleases me."
+
+"True, it was very telling. Yes, you are cheerful, and you are very fond
+of talking."
+
+"I am afraid I am a sad chatterbox," returned Bessie, blushing, as
+though she were conscious of an implied reproof.
+
+"Oh, but I like talking people. People who hold their tongues and listen
+are such bores. I do detest bores. I talk a great deal myself."
+
+"I think I have got into the way for Hatty's sake. Hatty is the sickly
+one of our flock; she has never been strong. When she was a tiny, weeny
+thing she was always crying and fretful. Father tells us that she cannot
+help it, but he never says so to her; he laughs and calls her 'Little
+Miss Much-Afraid.' Hatty is full of fear. She cannot see a mouse, as I
+tell her, without looking round the corner for pussy's claws."
+
+"Is Hatty your only sister, Miss Lambert?"
+
+"Oh, no; there are three more. I am the eldest--'Mother's crutch,' as
+they call me. We are such a family for giving each other funny names.
+Tom comes next. I am three-and-twenty--quite an old person, as Tom
+says--and he is one-and-twenty. He is at Oxford; he wants to be a
+barrister. Christine comes next to Tom--she is nineteen, and so pretty;
+and then poor Hatty--'sour seventeen,' as Tom called her on her last
+birthday; and then the two children, Ella and Katie; though Ella is
+nearly sixteen, and Katie fourteen, but they are only school-girls."
+
+"What a large family!" observed Miss Sefton, stifling a little yawn.
+"Now, mamma has only got me, for we don't count Richard."
+
+"Not count your brother?"
+
+"Oh, Richard is my step-brother; he was papa's son, you know; that makes
+a difference. Papa died when I was quite a little girl, so you see what
+I mean by saying mamma has only got me."
+
+"But she has your brother, too," observed Bessie, somewhat puzzled by
+this.
+
+"Oh, yes, of course." But Miss Sefton's tone was enigmatical, and she
+somewhat hastily changed the subject by saying, plaintively, "Oh, dear,
+do please tell me, Miss Lambert, what you think I ought to do when we
+reach Cliffe, if we ever do reach it. Shall I telegraph to my friends in
+London, and go to a hotel? Perhaps you could recommend me one, or----"
+
+"No; you shall come home with me," returned Bessie, moved to this sudden
+inspiration by the weary look in Miss Sefton's face. "We are not
+strangers; my father and your mother were friends; that is sufficient
+introduction. Mother is the kindest woman in the world--every one says
+so. We are not rich people, but we can make you comfortable. To be sure,
+there is not a spare room; our house is not large, and there are so many
+of us; but you shall have my room, and I will have half of Chrissy's
+bed. You are too young"--and here Bessie was going to add "too pretty,"
+only she checked herself--"to go alone to a hotel. Mother would be
+dreadfully shocked at the idea."
+
+"You are very kind--too kind; but your people might object," hesitated
+Miss Sefton.
+
+"Mother never objects to anything we do; at least, I might turn it the
+other way about, and say we never propose anything to which she is
+likely to object. When my mother knows all about it, she will give you a
+hearty welcome."
+
+"If you are quite sure of that, I will accept your invitation
+thankfully, for I am tired to death. You are goodness itself to me, but
+I shall not like turning you out of your room."
+
+"Nonsense. Chriss and I will think it a bit of fun--oh, you don't know
+us yet. So little happens in our lives that your coming will be quite an
+event; so that is settled." And Bessie extended a plump little hand in
+token of her good will, which Miss Sefton cordially grasped.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+"HERE IS OUR BESSIE."
+
+
+An interruption occurred at this moment. The friendly guard made his
+appearance again, accompanied by the same white-haired old clergyman
+whom Bessie had noticed. He came to offer his services to the young
+ladies. He cheered Miss Sefton's drooping spirits by reiterating the
+guard's assurance that they need only fear the inconvenience of another
+hour's delay.
+
+The sight of the kind, benevolent countenance was reassuring and
+comforting, and after their new friend had left them the girls resumed
+their talk with fresh alacrity.
+
+Miss Sefton was the chief speaker. She began recounting the glories of a
+grand military ball at Knightsbridge, at which she had been present, and
+some private theatricals and tableaux that had followed. She had a
+vivid, picturesque way of describing things, and Bessie listened with a
+sort of dreamy fascination that lulled her into forgetfulness of her
+parents' anxiety.
+
+In spite of her alleged want of imagination, she was conscious of a sort
+of weird interest in her surroundings. The wintry afternoon had closed
+into evening, but the whiteness of the snow threw a dim brightness
+underneath the faint starlight, while the gleam of the carriage lights
+enabled them to see the dark figures that passed and repassed underneath
+their window.
+
+It was intensely cold, and in spite of her furs Miss Sefton shivered and
+grew perceptibly paler. She was evidently one of those spoiled children
+of fortune who had never learned lessons of endurance, who are easily
+subdued and depressed by a passing feeling of discomfort; even Bessie's
+sturdy cheerfulness was a little infected by the unnatural stillness
+outside. The line ran between high banks, but in the mysterious twilight
+they looked like rocky defiles closing them in.
+
+After a time Bessie's attention wandered, and her interest flagged.
+Military balls ceased to interest her as the temperature grew lower and
+lower. Miss Sefton, too, became silent, and Bessie's mind filled with
+gloomy images. She thought of ships bedded in ice in Arctic regions; of
+shipwrecked sailors on frozen seas; of lonely travellers laying down
+their weary heads on pillows of snow, never to rise again; of homeless
+wanderers, outcasts from society, many with famished babes at their
+breasts, cowering under dark arches, or warming themselves at smoldering
+fires.
+
+"Thank God that, as father says, we cannot realize what people have to
+suffer," thought Bessie. "What would be the use of being young and happy
+and free from pain, if we were to feel other people's miseries? Some of
+us, who are sympathetic by nature, would never smile again. I don't
+think when God made us, and sent us into the world to live our own
+lives, that He meant us to feel like that. One can't mix up other
+people's lives with one's own; it would make an awful muddle."
+
+"Miss Lambert, are you asleep, or dreaming with your eyes open? Don't
+you see we are moving? There was such a bustle just now, and then they
+got the steam up, and now the engine is beginning to work. Oh! how
+slowly we are going! I could walk faster. Oh! we are stopping again--no,
+it is only my fancy. Is not the shriek of the whistle musical for once?"
+
+"I was not asleep; I was only thinking; but my thoughts had travelled
+far. Are we really moving? There, the snow-plow has cleared the line; we
+shall go on faster presently."
+
+"I hope so; it is nearly eight. I ought to have reached London an hour
+ago. Poor Neville, how disappointed he will be. Oh, we are through the
+drift now and they are putting on more steam."
+
+"Yes, we shall be at Cliffe in another ten minutes;" and Bessie roused
+in earnest. Those ten minutes seemed interminable before the lights of
+the station flashed before their eyes.
+
+"Here she is--here is our Bessie!" exclaimed a voice, and a fine-looking
+young fellow in an ulster ran lightly down the platform as Bessie waved
+her handkerchief. He was followed more leisurely by a handsome,
+gray-haired man with a quiet, refined-looking face.
+
+"Tom--oh, Tom!" exclaimed Bessie, almost jumping into his arms, as he
+opened the carriage door. "Were mother and Hattie very frightened? Why,
+there is father!" as Dr. Lambert hurried up.
+
+"My dear child, how thankful I am to see you! Why, she looks quite
+fresh, Tom."
+
+"As fit as possible," echoed Tom.
+
+"Yes, I am only cold. Father, the guard put me in with a young lady. She
+was going to London, but it is too late for her to travel alone, and she
+is afraid of going to a hotel. May I bring her home? Her name is Edna
+Sefton. She lives at The Grange, Oatlands."
+
+Dr. Lambert seemed somewhat taken aback by his daughter's speech.
+
+"Edna Sefton! Why, that is Eleanor Sefton's daughter! What a strange
+coincidence!" And then he muttered to himself, "Eleanor Sartoris'
+daughter under our roof! I wonder what Dora will say?" And then he
+turned to the fair, striking-looking girl whom Tom was assisting with
+all the alacrity that a young man generally shows to a pretty girl:
+"Miss Sefton, you will be heartily welcome for your mother's sake; she
+and I were great friends in the 'auld lang syne.' Will you come with me?
+I have a fly waiting for Bessie; my son will look after the luggage;"
+and Edna obeyed him with the docility of a child.
+
+But she glanced at him curiously once or twice as she walked beside him.
+"What a gentlemanly, handsome man he was!" she thought. Yes, he looked
+like a doctor; he had the easy, kindly manner which generally belongs to
+the profession. She had never thought much about her own father, but
+to-night, as they drove through the lighted streets, her thoughts, oddly
+enough, recurred to him. Dr. Lambert was sitting opposite the two girls,
+but his eyes were fixed oftenest on his daughter.
+
+"Your mother was very anxious and nervous," he said, "and so was Hatty,
+when Tom brought us word that the train was snowed up in Sheen Valley I
+had to scold Hatty, and tell her she was a goose; but mother was nearly
+as bad; she can't do without her crutch, eh, Bessie?" with a gleam of
+tenderness in his eyes, as they rested on his girl.
+
+Edna felt a little lump in her throat, though she hardly knew why;
+perhaps she was tired and over-strained; she had never missed her father
+before, but she fought against the feeling of depression.
+
+"I am so sorry your son has to walk," she said politely; but Dr. Lambert
+only smiled.
+
+"A walk will not hurt him, and our roads are very steep."
+
+As he spoke, the driver got down, and Bessie begged leave to follow his
+example.
+
+"We live on the top of the hill," she said apologetically; "and I cannot
+bear being dragged up by a tired horse, as father knows by this time;"
+and she joined her brother, who came up at that moment.
+
+Tom had kept the fly well in sight.
+
+"That's an awfully jolly-looking girl, Betty," he observed, with the
+free and easy criticism of his age. "I don't know when I have seen a
+prettier girl; uncommon style, too--fair hair and dark eyes; she is a
+regular beauty."
+
+"That is what boys always think about," returned Bessie, with
+good-humored contempt. "Girls are different. I should be just as much
+interested in Miss Sefton if she were plain. I suppose you mean to be
+charmed with her conversation, and to find all her remarks witty because
+she has _les beaux yeux_."
+
+"I scorn to take notice of such spiteful remarks," returned Tom, with a
+shrug. "Girls are venomous to each other. I believe they hate to hear
+one another praised, even by a brother."
+
+"Hold your tongue, Tom," was the rejoinder. "It takes my breath away to
+argue with you up this hill. I am not too ill-natured to give up my own
+bed to Miss Sefton. Let us hurry on, there's a good boy, or they will
+arrive before us."
+
+As this request coincided with Tom's private wishes, he condescended to
+walk faster; and the brother and sister were soon at the top of the
+hill, and had turned into a pretty private road bordered with trees,
+with detached houses standing far back, with long, sloping strips of
+gardens. The moon had now risen, and Bessie could distinctly see a
+little group of girls, with shawls over their heads, standing on the top
+of a flight of stone steps leading down to a large shady garden
+belonging to an old-fashioned house. The front entrance was round the
+corner, but the drawing-room window was open, and the girls had gained
+the road by the garden way, and stood shivering and expectant; while the
+moon illumined the grass terraces that ran steeply from the house, and
+shone on the meadow that skirted the garden.
+
+"Run in, girls; you will catch cold," called out Bessie; but her prudent
+suggestion was of no avail, for a tall, lanky girl rushed into the road
+with the rapturous exclamation, "Why, it is our Bessie after all, though
+she looked so tall in the moonlight, and I did not know Tom's new
+ulster." And here Bessie was fallen upon and kissed, and handed from one
+to another of the group, and then borne rapidly down the steps and
+across the terrace to the open window.
+
+"Here she is, mother; here is our Bessie, not a bit the worse. And Hatty
+ought to be ashamed of herself for making us all miserable!" exclaimed
+Katie.
+
+"My Hatty sha'n't be scolded. Mother, dear, if you only knew how sweet
+home looks after the Sheen Valley! Don't smother me any more, girls. I
+want to tell you something that will surprise you;" and Bessie, still
+holding her mother's hand, but looking at Hatty, gave a rapid and
+somewhat indistinct account of her meeting with Edna Sefton.
+
+"And she will have my room, mother," continued Bessie, a little
+incoherently, for she was tired and breathless, and the girl's
+exclamations were so bewildering.
+
+Mrs. Lambert, a pale, care-worn woman, with a sweet pathetic sort of
+face, was listening with much perplexity, which was not lessened by the
+sight of her husband ushering into the room a handsome-looking girl,
+dressed in the most expensive fashion.
+
+"Dora, my dear, this is Bessie's fellow-sufferer in the snowdrift; we
+must make much of her, for she is the daughter of my old friend, Eleanor
+Sartoris--Mrs. Sefton now. Bessie has offered her her own room to-night,
+as it is too late for her to travel to London."
+
+A quick look passed between the husband and wife, and a faint color came
+to Mrs. Lambert's face, but she was too well-bred to express her
+astonishment.
+
+"You are very welcome, my dear," she said quietly. "We will make you as
+comfortable as we can. These are all my girls," and she mentioned their
+names.
+
+"What a lot of girls," thought Edna. She was not a bit shy by nature,
+and somehow the situation amused her. "What a comfortable, homelike
+room, and what a lovely fire! And--well, of course, they were not rich;
+any one could see that; but they were nice, kind people."
+
+"This is better than the snowdrift," she said, with a beaming smile, as
+Dr. Lambert placed her in his own easy chair, and Tom brought her a
+footstool and handed her a screen, and her old acquaintance Bessie
+helped her to remove her wraps. The whole family gathered round her,
+intent on hospitality to the bewitching stranger--only the "Crutch," as
+Tom called her, tripped away to order Jane to light a fire in her room,
+and to give out the clean linen for the unexpected guest, and to put a
+few finishing touches to the supper-table.
+
+The others did not miss her at first. Christine, a tall, graceful girl
+who had inherited her father's good looks, was questioning Edna about
+the journey, and the rest were listening to the answers.
+
+Hatty, a pale, sickly-looking girl, whose really fine features were
+marred by unhealthy sullenness and an anxious, fretful expression, was
+hanging on every word; while the tall schoolgirl Ella, and the smaller,
+bright-eyed Katie, were standing behind their mother, trying to hide
+their awkwardness and bashfulness, till Tom came to the rescue by
+finding them seats, with a whispered hint to Katie that it was not good
+manners to stare so at a stranger. Edna saw everything with quiet,
+amused eyes; she satisfied Christine's curiosity, and found replies to
+all Mrs. Lambert's gentle, persistent questioning. Tom, too, claimed her
+attention by all sorts of dexterous wiles. She must look at him, and
+thank him, when he found that screen for her; she could not disregard
+him when he was so solicitous about the draft from the window, so
+anxious to bring her another cushion.
+
+"I did not know you were such a ladies' man, Tom," observed Dr. Lambert
+presently, in a tone that made Tom retreat with rather a foolish
+expression.
+
+With all his love for his children, Dr. Lambert was sometimes capable of
+a smooth sarcasm. Tom felt as though he had been officious; had, in
+fact, made a fool of himself, and drew off into the background. His
+father was often hard on him, Tom said to himself, in an aggrieved way,
+and yet he was only doing his duty, as a son of the house, in waiting on
+this fascinating young lady.
+
+"Poor boy, he is very young!" thought Edna, who noticed this by-play
+with some amusement; "but he will grow older some day, and he is very
+good-looking;" and then she listened with a pretty show of interest to a
+story Dr. Lambert was telling her of when he was snowed up in Scotland
+as a boy.
+
+When Bessie returned she found them all in good spirits, and her
+fellow-traveller laughing and talking as though she had known them for
+years; even Tom's brief sulkiness had vanished, and, unmindful of his
+father's caustic tongue, he had again ventured to join the charmed
+circle.
+
+It was quite late before the girls retired to rest, and as Edna followed
+Bessie up the broad, low staircase, while Tom lighted them from below,
+she called out gayly. "Good-night, Mr. Lambert; it was worth while
+being snowed up in the Sheen Valley to make such nice friends, and to
+enjoy such a pleasant evening."
+
+Edna really meant what she said, for the moment; she was capable of
+these brief enthusiasms. Pleasantness of speech, that specious coinage
+of conventionality, was as the breath of life to her. Her girlish vanity
+was gratified by the impression she had made on the Lambert family, and
+even Tom's crude, boyish admiration was worth something.
+
+"To be all things to all men" is sometimes taken by vain, worldly people
+in a very different sense from that the apostle intended. Girls of Edna
+Sefton's caliber--impressionable, vivacious, egotistical, and capable of
+a thousand varying moods--will often take their cue from other people,
+and become grave with the grave, and gay with the gay, until they weary
+of their role, and of a sudden become their true selves. And yet there
+is nothing absolutely wrong in these swift, natural transitions; many
+sympathetic natures act in the same way, by very reason and force of
+their sympathy. For the time being they go out of themselves, and, as it
+were, put themselves in other people's places. Excessive sympathy is
+capable of minor martyrdom; their reflected suffering borders upon real
+pain.
+
+When Bessie ushered Edna into her little room, she looked round proudly
+at the result of her own painstaking thoughtfulness. A bright fire
+burned in the small grate, and her mother's easy chair stood beside
+it--heavy as it was, Bessie had carried it in with her own hands. The
+best eider-down quilt, in its gay covering, was on the bed, and the new
+toilet-cover that Christine had worked in blue and white cross-stitch
+was on the table. Bessie had even borrowed the vase of Neapolitan
+violets that some patient had sent her father, and the sweet perfume
+permeated the little room.
+
+Bessie would willingly have heard some encomium on the snug quarters
+provided for the weary guest, but Edna only looked round her
+indifferently, and then stifled a yawn.
+
+"Is there anything you want? Can I help you? Oh, I hope you will sleep
+comfortably!" observed Bessie, a little mortified by Edna's silence.
+
+"Oh, yes: I am so tired that I am sure I shall sleep well," returned
+Edna; and then she added quickly, "but I am so sorry to turn you out of
+your room."
+
+"Oh, that does not matter at all, thank you," replied Bessie, stirring
+the fire into a cheerful blaze, and then bidding her guest good-night;
+but Edna, who had taken possession of the easy chair, exclaimed:
+
+"Oh, don't go yet--it is only eleven, and I am never in bed until
+twelve. Sit down a moment, and warm yourself."
+
+"Mother never likes us to be late," hesitated Bessie; but she lingered,
+nevertheless. This was not an ordinary evening, and there were
+exceptions to every rule, so she knelt down on the rug a moment, and
+watched Edna taking down the long plaits of fair hair that had crowned
+her shapely head. "What lovely hair!" thought Bessie; "what a beautiful
+young creature she is altogether!"
+
+Edna was unconscious of the admiration she was exciting. She was looking
+round her, and trying to realize what her feelings would be if she had
+to inhabit such a room. "Why, our servants have better rooms," she
+thought.
+
+To a girl of Edna's luxurious habits Bessie's room looked very poor and
+mean. The little strips of faded carpet, the small, curtainless
+bedstead, the plain maple washstand and drawers, the few simple prints
+and varnished bookcase were shabby enough in Edna's eyes. She could not
+understand how any girl could be content with such a room; and yet
+Bessie's happiest hours were spent there. What was a little shabbiness,
+or the wear and tear of homely furniture, to one who saw angels'
+footprints even in the common ways of life, and who dreamed sweet,
+innocent dreams of the splendors of a heavenly home? To these sort of
+natures even threadbare garments can be worn proudly, for to these free
+spirits even poverty loses its sting. It is not "how we live," but "how
+we think about life," that stamps our characters, and makes us the men
+and women that we are.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+HATTY.
+
+
+The brief silence was broken by Edna.
+
+"What a nice boy your brother is!" she observed, in rather a patronizing
+tone.
+
+Bessie looked up in some surprise.
+
+"Tom does not consider himself a boy, I assure you; he is
+one-and-twenty, and ever since he has gone to Oxford he thinks himself
+of great consequence. I dare say we spoil him among us, as he is our
+only brother now. If Frank had lived," and here Bessie sighed, "he would
+have been five-and-twenty by this time; but he died four years ago. It
+was such a blow to poor father and mother; he was so good and clever,
+and he was studying for a doctor; but he caught a severe chill, and
+congestion of the lungs came on, and in a few days he was dead. I don't
+think mother has ever been quite the same since his death--Frank was so
+much to her."
+
+"How very sad!" returned Edna sympathetically, for Bessie's eyes had
+grown soft and misty as she touched this chord of sadness; "it must be
+terrible to lose any one whom one loves." And then she added, with a
+smile, "I did not mean to hurt your feelings by calling your brother a
+boy, but he seemed very young to me. You see, I am engaged, and Mr.
+Sinclair (that is my fiancé) is nearly thirty, and he is so grave and
+quiet that any one like your brother seems like a boy beside him."
+
+"You are engaged?" ejaculated Bessie, in an awestruck tone.
+
+"Yes; it seems a pity, does it not? at least mamma says so; she thinks I
+am too young and giddy to know my own mind; and yet she is very fond of
+Neville--Mr. Sinclair, I mean. She will have it that we are not a bit
+suited to each other, and I dare say she is right, for certainly we do
+not think alike on a single point."
+
+Bessie's eyes opened rather widely at this candid statement. She was a
+simple little soul, and had not yet learned the creed of emancipation.
+She held the old-fashioned views that her mother had held before her.
+Her mother seldom talked on these subjects, and Bessie had inherited
+this reticence. She listened with a sort of wondering disgust when her
+girl acquaintances chattered flippantly about their lovers, and boasted
+openly of their power over them.
+
+"If this sort of thing ever comes to me," thought Bessie on these
+occasions, "I shall think it too wonderful and precious to make it the
+subject of idle conversation. How can any one take upon themselves the
+responsibility of another human being's happiness--for that is what it
+really means--and turn it into a jest? It is far too sacred and
+beautiful a thing for such treatment. I think mother is right when she
+says, 'Girls of the present day have so little reticence.'"
+
+She hardly knew what to make of Edna's speech; it was not exactly
+flippant, but it seemed so strange to hear so young a creature speak in
+that cool, matter-of-fact way.
+
+"I don't see how people are to get on together, if they do not think
+alike," she observed, in a perplexed voice; but Edna only laughed.
+
+"I am afraid we don't get on. Mother says she never saw such a couple;
+that we are always quarrelling and making up like two children; but I
+put it to you, Miss Lambert, how are things to be better? I am used to
+my own way, and Mr. Sinclair is used to his. I like fun and plenty of
+change, and dread nothing so much as being bored--_ennuyée_, in fact,
+and he is all for quiet. Then he is terribly clever, and has every sort
+of knowledge at his fingers' end. He is a barrister, and rising in his
+profession, and I seldom open a book unless it be a novel."
+
+"I wonder why he chose you," observed Bessie naïvely, and Edna seemed
+much amused by her frankness.
+
+"Oh, how deliciously downright you are, Miss Lambert. Well, do you know
+I have not the faintest notion why Neville asked me to marry him, any
+more than I know why I listened to him. I tell him sometimes that it was
+the most ridiculous mistake in the world, and that either he or I, or
+both of us, must have been bewitched. I am really very sorry for him
+sometimes; I do make him so unhappy; and sometimes I am sorry for
+myself. But there, the whole thing is beyond my comprehension. If I
+could alter myself or alter Neville, things would be more comfortable
+and less unpleasantly exciting." And here Edna laughed again, and then
+stifled another yawn; and this time Bessie declared she would not stop a
+moment longer. Christine would be asleep.
+
+"Well, perhaps I should only talk nonsense if you remained, and I can
+see you are easily shocked, so I will allow you to wish me good-night."
+But, to Bessie's surprise, Edna kissed her affectionately.
+
+"You have been a Good Samaritan to me," she said quietly, "and I am
+really very grateful." And Bessie withdrew, touched by the unexpected
+caress.
+
+"What a strange mixture she is!" she thought, as she softly closed the
+door. "I think she must have been badly brought up; perhaps her mother
+has spoiled her. I fancy she is affectionate by nature, but she is
+worldly, and cares too much for pleasure; anyhow, one cannot help being
+interested in her." But here she broke off abruptly as she passed a
+half-opened door, and a voice from within summoned her.
+
+"Oh, Hatty, you naughty child, are you awake? Do you know it is nearly
+twelve o'clock?"
+
+"What does that matter?" returned Hatty fretfully, as Bessie groped her
+way carefully toward the bed. "I could not sleep until you had said
+good-night to me. I suppose you had forgotten me; you never thought I
+was lying here waiting for you, while you were talking to Miss Sefton."
+
+"Now, Hatty, I hope you are not going to be tiresome;" and Bessie's
+voice was a little weary; and then she relented, and said gently, "You
+know I never forget you, Hatty dear."
+
+"No, of course not," returned the other eagerly. "I did not mean to be
+cross. Put your head down beside me on the pillow, Bessie darling, for I
+know you are just as tired as possible. You don't mind stopping with me
+for a few minutes, do you? for I have not spoken to you for three
+weeks."
+
+"No, I am not so tired as all that, and I am quite comfortable," as a
+thin, soft cheek laid itself against her's in the darkness. "What has
+gone wrong, Hatty dear? for I know by your tone you have been making
+yourself miserable about something. You have wanted me back to scold you
+into cheerfulness."
+
+"I have wanted you dreadfully," sighed Hatty. "Mother and Christine have
+been very kind, but they don't help me as you do, and Tom teases me
+dreadfully. What do you think he said yesterday to mother? I was in the
+room and heard him myself. He actually said, 'I wonder my father allows
+you all to spoil Hatty as you do. You all give in to her, however cross
+and unreasonable she is, and so her temper gets worse every day.'"
+
+"Well, you are very often cross, you know," returned Bessie truthfully.
+
+"Yes, but I try not to be," replied Hatty, with a little sob. "Tom would
+have been cross too if his head and back had ached as mine were aching,
+but he always feels well and strong. I think it is cruel of him to say
+such things to mother, when he knows how much I have to suffer."
+
+"Tom did not mean to be unkind, Hatty; you are always finding fault
+with the poor boy. It is difficult for a young man, who does not know
+what an ache means, nor what it is to wake up tired, to realize what
+real suffering all your little ailments cause you. Tom is really very
+kind and good-natured, only your sharp little speeches irritate him."
+
+"I am always irritating some one," moaned Hatty. "I can't think how any
+of you can love me. I often cry myself to sleep, to think how horrid and
+disagreeable I have been in the day. I make good resolutions then, but
+the next morning I am as bad as ever, and then I think it is no use
+trying any more. Last night Tom made me so unhappy that I could not say
+my prayers."
+
+"Poor little Hatty!"
+
+"Yes, I know you are sorry for me; you are such a dear that I cannot be
+as cross with you as I am with Tom; but, Bessie, I wish you would
+comfort me a little; if you would only tell me that I am not so much to
+blame."
+
+"We have talked that over a great many times before. You know what I
+think, Hatty; you are not to blame for your weakness; that is a trial
+laid upon you; but you are to blame if that weakness is so impatiently
+borne that it leads you to sin."
+
+"I am sure father thinks that I cannot help my irritability; he will
+never let Tom scold me if he is in the room."
+
+"That is because father is so kind, and he knows you have such a hard
+time of it, you poor child, and that makes us all so sorry for you; but,
+Hatty, you must not let all this love spoil you; we are patient with you
+because we know your weakness, but we cannot help you if you do not help
+yourself. Don't you recollect what dear Mr. Robertson said in his
+sermon? that 'harassed nerves must be striven against, as we strive
+against anything that hinders our daily growth in grace.' He said people
+were more tolerant of this form of weakness than of any other, and yet
+it caused much misery in homes, and he went on to tell us that every
+irritable word left unspoken, every peevish complaint hushed, was as
+real a victory as though we had done some great thing. 'If we must
+suffer,' he said, 'at least let us suffer quietly, and not spend our
+breath in fruitless complaint. People will avoid a fretful person as
+though they were plague-tainted; and why? because they trouble the very
+atmosphere round them, and no one can enjoy peace in their
+neighborhood.'"
+
+"I am sure Mr. Robertson must have meant me, Bessie."
+
+"No, darling, no; I won't have you exaggerate or judge yourself too
+harshly. You are not always cross, or we should not be so fond of you.
+You make us sad sometimes, when you sit apart, brooding over some
+imaginary grievance; that is why father calls you Little Miss
+Much-Afraid."
+
+"Yes, you all laugh at me, but indeed the darkness is very real.
+Sometimes I wonder why I have been sent into the world, if I am not to
+be happy myself, nor to make other people happy. You are like a sunbeam
+yourself, Bessie, and so you hardly understand what I mean."
+
+"Oh, yes, I do; but I never see any good in putting questions that we
+cannot answer; only I am quite sure you have your duty to do, quite as
+much as I have mine, only you have not found it out."
+
+"Perhaps I am the thorn in the flesh to discipline you all into
+patience," returned Hatty quaintly, for she was not without humor.
+
+"Very well, then, my thorn; fulfil your mission," returned Bessie,
+kissing her. "But I cannot keep awake and speak words of wisdom any
+longer." And she scrambled over the bed, and with another cheerful
+"good-night," vanished; but Hatty's troubled thoughts were lulled by
+sisterly sympathy, and she soon slept peacefully. Late as it was before
+Bessie laid her weary head on the pillow beside her sleeping sister, it
+was long before her eyes closed and she sunk into utter forgetfulness.
+Her mind seemed crowded with vague images and disconnected thoughts.
+Recollections of the hours spent in Sheen Valley, the weird effect of
+the dusky figures passing and repassing in the dim, uncertain light, the
+faint streaks of light across the snow, the dull winter sky, the eager
+welcome of the lonely girl, the long friendly talk ripening into budding
+intimacy, all passed vividly before her, followed by Hatty's artless
+confession.
+
+"Poor little thing!" thought Bessie compassionately, for there was a
+specially soft place in her heart for Hatty. She had always been her
+particular charge. All Hatty's failures, her miserable derelictions of
+duty, her morbid self-accusations and nervous fancies, bred of a sickly
+body and over-anxious temperament, were breathed into Bessie's
+sympathizing ear. Hatty's feebleness borrowed strength and courage from
+Bessie's vigorous counsels. She felt braced by mere contact with such a
+strong, healthy organization. She was always less fretful and impatient
+when Bessie was near; her cheery influence cleared away many a cloud
+that threatened to obscure Hatty's horizon.
+
+"Bear ye one another's burdens," was a command literally obeyed by
+Bessie in her unselfish devotion to Hatty, her self-sacrificing efforts
+to cheer and rouse her; but she never could be made to understand that
+there was any merit in her conduct.
+
+"I know Hatty is often cross, and ready to take offence," she would say;
+"but I think we ought to make allowances for her. I don't think we
+realize how much she has to bear--that she never feels well."
+
+"Oh, that is all very well," Christine would answer, for she had a quick
+temper too, and would fire up after one of Hatty's sarcastic little
+speeches; "but it is time Hatty learned self-control. I dare say you are
+often tired after your Sunday class, but no one hears a cross word from
+you."
+
+"Oh, I keep it all in," Bessie returned, laughing. "But I dare say I
+feel cross all the same. I don't think any of us can guess what it must
+be to wake depressed and languid every morning. A louder voice than
+usual does not make our heads ache, yet I have seen Hatty wince with
+pain when Tom indulged in one of his laughs."
+
+"Yes, I know," replied Christine, only half convinced by this. "Of
+course it is very trying, but Hatty must be used to it by this time, for
+she has never been strong from a baby; and yet she is always bemoaning
+herself, as though it were something fresh."
+
+"It is not easy to get used to this sort of trouble," answered Bessie,
+rather sadly. "And I must say I always feel very sorry for Hatty," and
+so the conversation closed.
+
+But in her heart Bessie said: "It is all very well to preach patience,
+and I for one am always preaching it to Hatty, but it is not so easy to
+practice it. Mother and Christine are always praising me for being so
+good tempered; but if one feels strong and well, and has a healthy
+appetite and good digestion, it is very easy to keep from being cross;
+but in other ways I am not half so good as Hatty; she is the purest,
+humblest little soul breathing."
+
+In spite of late hours, Bessie was downstairs the next morning at her
+usual time; she always presided at the breakfast-table. Since her eldest
+son's death, Mrs. Lambert had lost much of her strength and energy, and
+though her husband refused to acknowledge her as an invalid, or to treat
+her as one, yet most of her duties had devolved upon Bessie, whose
+useful energy supplemented her mother's failing powers.
+
+Bessie had briefly hinted at her family sorrow; she was not one at any
+time to dwell upon her feelings, nor to indulge in morbid retrospection,
+but it was true that the loss of that dearly loved son and brother had
+clouded the bright home atmosphere. Mrs. Lambert had borne her trouble
+meekly, and had striven to comfort her husband who had broken down
+under the sudden blow. She spoke little, even to her daughters, of the
+grief that was slowly consuming her; but as time went on, and Dr.
+Lambert recovered his cheerfulness, he noticed that his wife drooped and
+ailed more than usual; she had grown into slow quiet ways that seemed to
+point to failing strength.
+
+"Bessie, your mother is not as young as she used to be," he said
+abruptly, one morning, "She does not complain, but then she is not one
+of the complaining sort; she was always a quiet creature; but you girls
+must put your shoulders to the wheel, and spare her as much as
+possible." And from that day Bessie had become her mother's crutch.
+
+It was a wonderful relief to the harassed mother when she found a
+confidante to whom she could pour out all her anxieties.
+
+Dr. Lambert was not a rich man; his practice was large, but many of his
+patients were poor, and he had heavy expenses. The hilly roads and long
+distances obliged him to keep two horses. He had sent both his sons to
+Oxford, thinking a good education would be their best inheritance, and
+this had obliged him to curtail domestic expenses. He was a careful man,
+too, who looked forward to the future, and thought it his duty to lay
+aside a yearly sum to make provision for his wife and children.
+
+"I have only one son now, and Hatty will always be a care, poor child,"
+he said more than once.
+
+So, though there was always a liberal table kept in the doctor's house,
+it being Dr. Lambert's theory that growing girls needed plenty of
+nourishing food, the young people were taught economy in every other
+matter. The girls dressed simply and made their own gowns. Carpets and
+furniture grew the worse for wear, and were not always replaced at once.
+Tom grumbled sometimes when one of his Oxford friends came to dinner. He
+and Christine used to bewail the shabby covers in the drawing-room.
+
+"It is such a pretty room if it were only furbished off a bit," Tom said
+once. "Why don't you girls coax the governor to let you do it up?" Tom
+never used the word governor unless he was in a grumbling mood, for he
+knew how his father hated it.
+
+"I don't think father can afford anything this year, Tom," Bessie
+returned, in her fearless way. "Why do you ask your grand friends if you
+think they will look down on us? We don't pretend to be rich people.
+They will find the chairs very comfortable if they will condescend to
+sit on them, and the tables as strong as other people's tables; and
+though the carpet is a little faded, there are no holes to trip your
+friends up."
+
+"Oh, shut up, Betty!" returned Tom, restored to good humor by her honest
+sarcasm. "Ferguson will come if I ask him. I think he is a bit taken
+with old Chrissy." And so ended the argument.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+A COSY MORNING.
+
+
+Breakfast was half over before Miss Sefton made her appearance; but her
+graceful apology for her tardiness was received by Dr. Lambert in the
+most indulgent manner. In spite of his love of punctuality, and his
+stringent rules for his household in this respect, he could not have
+found it in his heart to rebuke the pretty, smiling creature who told
+him so naïvely that early rising disagreed with her and put her out for
+the day.
+
+"I tell mamma that I require a good deal of sleep, and, fortunately, she
+believes me," finished Edna complacently.
+
+Well, it was not like the doctor to hold his peace at this glaring
+opposition to his favorite theory, and yet, to Tom's astonishment, he
+forebore to quote that threadbare and detestable adage, "Early to bed
+and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise"--proverbial
+and uncomfortable philosophy that Tom hated with all his foolish young
+heart. Tom, in his budding manhood, often thought fit to set this
+domestic tyranny at defiance, and would argue at some length that his
+father was wrong in laying down rules for the younger generation.
+
+"If my father likes to get up early, no one can find any fault with him
+for doing it," Tom would say; "but he need not impose his venerable and
+benighted opinions upon us. Great men are not always wise; even
+intellectual veterans like Dr. Johnson, and others I can mention, if you
+only give me time, have their hallucinations, fads, fancies, and
+flummeries. For example, every one speaks of Dr. Johnson with respect;
+no one hints that he had a bee in his bonnet, and yet a man who could
+make a big hole for a cat and a little one for a kitten--was it Johnson
+or Newton who did that?--must have had a screw loose somewhere. And so
+it is with my father; early rising is his hobby--his pet theory--the
+keystone that binds the structure of health together. Well, it is a
+respectable theory, but my father need not expect an enlightened and
+progressive generation to subscribe to it. The early hours of the
+morning are not good for men and mice, only for birds and bricklayers,
+and worms weary of existence."
+
+Tom looked on, secretly amused, as his father smiled indulgently at Miss
+Sefton's confession of indolence. He asked her how she had slept, and
+made room for her beside him, and then questioned her about her intended
+journey, and finally arranged to drive her to the station before he went
+on his usual round.
+
+An hour afterward the whole family collected in the hall to see Miss
+Sefton off. Edna bid them good-bye in her easy, friendly fashion, but as
+she took Bessie's hand, she said:
+
+"Good-bye, dear. I have an idea that we shall soon meet again. I shall
+not let you forget me;" and then she put up her face to be kissed.
+
+"I am not likely to forget you," thought Bessie, as Edna waved her
+little gloved hand to them all; "one could soon get fond of her."
+
+"How nice it must be to be rich," sighed Christine, who was standing
+beside Bessie. "Miss Sefton is very little older than we are, and yet
+she has lovely diamond and emerald rings. Did you see her dressing bag?
+It was filled up so beautifully; its bottles silver mounted; it must
+have cost thirty guineas, at least. And then her furs; I should like to
+be in her place."
+
+"I should not envy Miss Sefton because she is rich," retorted Hatty
+disdainfully. "I would rather change places with her because she is so
+strong and so pretty. I did like looking at her so much, and so did Tom.
+Didn't you, Tom?"
+
+"I say, I wish you girls would shut up or clear off," responded Tom
+crossly; for things felt a little flat this morning. "How is a fellow to
+work with all this chattering going on round him?"
+
+"Why, you haven't opened your books yet," replied Hatty, in an aggrieved
+voice; but Bessie hastily interposed:
+
+"Tom is quite right to want the room to himself. Come along, girls, let
+us go to mother in the morning-room; we might do some of our plain
+sewing, and then I can tell you about Aunt Charlotte. It is so long
+since we have been cosy together, and our needles will fly while we
+talk--eh, Hatty?"
+
+"There are those night shirts to finish," said Christine disconsolately;
+"they ought to have been done long ago, but Hatty was always saying her
+back ached when I wanted her help, and I could not get on with them by
+myself."
+
+"Never mind, we will all set to work vigorously," and Bessie tripped
+away to find her work basket. The morning-room, as they called it, was a
+small room leading out of the drawing-room, with an old-fashioned bay
+window looking out on the garden.
+
+There was a circular cushioned seat running round the bay, with a small
+table in the middle, and this was the place where the girls loved to sit
+and sew, while their tongues kept pace with their needles. When Hatty's
+back ached, or the light made her head throb with pain, she used to
+bring her low chair and leave the recess to Bessie and Christine.
+
+The two younger girls went to school.
+
+As Hatty brought her work (she was very skilful with the needle, and
+neither of her sisters could vie with her in delicate embroidery), she
+slipped a cold little hand into Bessie's.
+
+"It is so lovely to have you back, Betty, dear," she whispered. "I woke
+quite happy this morning to know I should see you downstairs."
+
+"I think it is lovely to be home," returned Bessie, with a beaming
+smile. "I am sure that is half the pleasure of going away--the coming
+back again. I don't know how I should feel if I went to stay at any
+grand place; but it always seems to me now that home is the most
+delicious place in the world; it never looks shabby to me as it does to
+Tom; it is just homelike."
+
+Mrs. Lambert, who was sitting apart from the girls, busy with her weekly
+accounts, looked up at hearing her daughter's speech.
+
+"That is right, dear," she said gently, "that is just how I like to hear
+you speak; it would grieve me if my girls were to grow discontented with
+their home, as some young ladies do."
+
+"Bessie is not like that, mother," interposed Hatty eagerly.
+
+"No, Hatty, we know that, do we not? What do you think father said the
+other day, Bessie? He said, 'I shall be glad when we get Bessie back,
+for the place does not seem like itself when she is away.' That was a
+high compliment from father."
+
+"Indeed it was," returned Bessie; and she blushed with pleasure. "Every
+one likes to be missed; but I hope you didn't want me too much, mother."
+
+"No, dear; but, like father, I am glad to get you back again." And the
+mother's eyes rested fondly on the girl's face. "Now you must not make
+me idle, for I have all these accounts to do, and some notes to write.
+Go on with your talking; it will not interrupt me."
+
+It spoke well for the Lambert girls that their mother's presence never
+interfered with them; they talked as freely before her as other girls do
+in their parent's absence. From children they had never been repressed
+nor unnaturally subdued; their childish preferences and tastes had been
+known and respected; no thoughtless criticism had wounded their
+susceptibility; imperceptibly and gently maternal advice had guided and
+restrained them.
+
+"We tell mother everything, and she likes to hear it," Ella and Katie
+would say to their school-fellows.
+
+"We never have secrets from her," Ella added. "Katie did once, and
+mother was so hurt that she cried about it. Don't you recollect, Katie?"
+
+"Yes, and it is horrid of you to remind me," returned Katie wrathfully,
+and she walked away in high dudgeon; the recollection was not a pleasant
+one. Katie's soft heart had been pierced by her mother's unfeigned grief
+and tender reproaches.
+
+"You are the only one of all my little girls who ever hid anything from
+me. No, I am not angry with you, Katie, and I will kiss you as much as
+you like," for Katie's arms were round her neck in a moment; "but you
+have made mother cry, because you do not love her as she does you."
+
+"Mother shall never cry again on my account," thought Katie; and,
+strange to say, the tendency to secretiveness in the child's nature
+seemed cured from that day. Katie ever afterward confessed her
+misdemeanors and the accidents that happen to the best-regulated
+children with a frankness that bordered on bluntness.
+
+"I have done it, mother," she would say, "but somehow I don't feel a bit
+sorry. I rather liked hurting Ella's feelings; it seemed to serve her
+right."
+
+"Perhaps when we have talked about it a little you will feel sorry," her
+mother would reply quietly; "but I have no time for talking just now."
+
+Mrs. Lambert was always very busy; on these occasions she never found
+time for a heated and angry discussion. When Katie's hot cheeks had
+cooled a little, and her childish wrath had evaporated, she would
+quietly argue the point with her. It was an odd thing that Katie
+generally apologized of her own accord afterward--generally owned
+herself the offender.
+
+"Somehow you make things look different, mother," she would say, "I
+can't think why they all seem topsy-turvy to me."
+
+"When you are older I will lend you my spectacles," her mother returned,
+smiling. "Now run and kiss Ella, and pray don't forget next time that
+she is two years older; it can't possibly be a younger sister's duty to
+contradict her on every occasion."
+
+It was in this way that Mrs. Lambert had influenced her children, and
+she had reaped a rich harvest for her painstaking, patient labors with
+them, in the freely bestowed love and confidence with which her grown-up
+daughters regarded her. Now, as she sat apart, the sound of their fresh
+young voices was the sweetest music to her; not for worlds would she
+have allowed her own inward sadness to damp their spirits, but more than
+once the pen rested in her hand, and her attention wandered.
+
+Outside the wintry sun was streaming on the leafless trees and snowy
+lawns; some thrushes and sparrows were bathing in the pan of water that
+Katie had placed there that morning.
+
+"Let us go for a long walk this afternoon," Christine was saying,
+"through the Coombe Woods, and round by Summerford, and down by the
+quarry."
+
+"Even Bessie forgets that it will be Frank's birthday to-morrow,"
+thought Mrs. Lambert. "My darling boy, I wonder if he remembers it
+there; if the angels tell him that his mother is thinking of him. That
+is just what one longs to know--if they remember;" and then she sighed,
+and pushed her papers aside, and no one saw the sadness of her face as
+she went out. Meanwhile Bessie was relating how she had spent the last
+three weeks.
+
+"I can't think how you could endure it," observed Christine, as soon as
+she had finished. "Aunt Charlotte is very nice, of course; she is
+father's sister, and we ought to think so; but she leads such a dull
+life, and then Cronyhurst is such an ugly village."
+
+"It is not dull to her, but then you see it is her life. People look on
+their own lives with such different eyes. Yes, it was very quiet at
+Cronyhurst; the roads were too bad for walking, and we had a great deal
+of snow; but we worked and talked, and sometimes I read aloud, and so
+the days were not so long after all."
+
+"I should have come home at the end of a week," returned Christine;
+"three weeks at Cronyhurst in the winter is too dreadful. It was real
+self-sacrifice on your part, Bessie; even father said so; he declared it
+was too bad of Aunt Charlotte to ask you at such a season of the year."
+
+"I don't see that. Aunt Charlotte liked having me, and I was very
+willing to stay with her, and we had such nice talks. I don't see that
+she is to be pitied at all. She has never married, and she lives alone,
+but she is perfectly contented with her life. She has her garden and her
+chickens, and her poor people. We used to go into some of the cottages
+when the weather allowed us to go out, and all the people seemed so
+pleased to see her. Aunt Charlotte is a good woman, and good people are
+generally happy. I know what Tom says about old maids," continued Bessie
+presently, "but that is all nonsense. Aunt Charlotte says she is far
+better off as she is than many married people she knows. 'Married people
+may double their pleasures,' as folks say, 'but they treble their cares,
+too,' I have heard her remark; 'and there is a great deal to be said in
+favor of freedom. When there is no one to praise there is no one to
+blame, and if there is no one to love there is no one to lose, and I
+have always been content myself with single blessedness.' Do you
+remember poor Uncle Joe's saying, 'The mare that goes in single harness
+does not get so many kicks?'"
+
+"Yes, I know Aunt Charlotte's way of talking; but I dare say no one
+wanted to marry her, so she makes the best of her circumstances."
+
+Bessie could not help laughing at Christine's bluntness.
+
+"Well, you are right, Chrissy; but Aunt Charlotte is not the least
+ashamed of the fact. She told me once that no one had ever fallen in
+love with her, 'I could not expect them to do so,' she remarked
+candidly. 'As a girl I was plain featured, and so shy and awkward that
+your Uncle Joe used to tell me that I was the only ugly duckling that
+would never turn into a swan.'"
+
+"What a shame of Uncle Joe!"
+
+"I don't think Aunt Charlotte took it much to heart. She says her hard
+life and many troubles drove all nonsense thoughts out of her head. Why,
+grandmamma was ill eight years, you know, and Aunt Charlotte nursed her
+all that time. I am sure when she used to come to my bedside of a night,
+and tuck me up with a motherly kiss, I used to think her face looked
+almost beautiful, it was so full of kindness. Somehow I fancy when I am
+old," added Bessie pensively, "I shall not care so much about my looks
+nor my wrinkles, if people will only think I am a comfortable,
+kind-hearted sort of a person."
+
+"You will be the dearest old lady in the world," returned Hatty,
+dropping her work with an adoring look at her Betty. "You are cosier
+than other people now, so you are sure to be nicer than ever when you
+are old. No wonder Aunt Charlotte loved to have you."
+
+"What a little flatterer you are, Hatty! It is a comfort that I don't
+grow vain. Do you know, I think Aunt Charlotte taught me a great deal.
+When you get over her little mannerisms and odd ways, you soon find out
+what a good woman she really is. She is always thinking of other people;
+what she can do to lighten their burdens; and little things give her so
+much pleasure. She says the first violet she picks in the hedgerow, or
+the sight of a pair of thrushes building their nest in the acacia tree,
+makes her feel as happy as a child; 'for in spring,' she said once, 'all
+the world is full of young life, and the buds are bursting into flowers,
+and they remind me that one day I shall be young and beautiful too.'"
+
+"I think I should like to go and stay with Aunt Charlotte," observed
+Hatty, "if you think she would care to have me."
+
+"I am sure she would, dear. Aunt Charlotte loves to take care of
+people. You most go in the summer, Hatty; the cottage is so pretty then,
+and you could be out in the garden or in the lanes all day. June is the
+best month, for they will be making hay in the meadows, and you could
+sit on the porch and smell the roses, and watch Aunt Charlotte's bees
+filling their honey bags. It is just the place for you, Hatty--so still
+and quiet."
+
+This sort of talk lasted most of the morning, until Ella and Katie
+returned from school, and Tom sauntered into the room, flushed with his
+mental labors, and ready to seek relaxation in his sisters' company.
+
+Bessie left the room and went in search of her mother; when she
+returned, a quarter of an hour later, she found Tom sulky and Hatty in
+tears.
+
+"It is no use trying to keep the peace," observed Christine, in a vexed
+tone. "Tom will tease Hatty, and then she gets cross, and there is no
+silencing either of them."
+
+"Come with me, Hatty dear, and help me put my room in order. I have to
+finish my unpacking," said Bessie soothingly. "You have been working too
+long, and so has Tom. I shall leave him to you, Chrissy." And as Hatty
+only moaned a little in her handkerchief, Bessie took the work forcibly
+away, and then coaxed her out of the room.
+
+"Why is Tom so horrid to me?" sobbed Hatty "I don't believe he loves me
+a bit. I was having such a happy morning, and he came in and spoiled
+all."
+
+"Never mind about Tom. No one cares for his teasing, except you, Hatty.
+I would not let him see you mind everything he chooses to say. He will
+only think you a baby for crying. Now, do help me arrange this drawer,
+for dinner will be ready in a quarter of an hour, and the floor is just
+strewn with clothes. If it makes your head ache to stoop, I will just
+hand you the things; but no one else can put them away so tidily."
+
+The artful little bait took. Of all things Hatty loved to be of use to
+any one. In another moment she had dried her eyes and set to work, her
+miserable little face grew cheerful, and Tom's sneering speeches were
+forgotten.
+
+"Why, I do believe that is Hatty laughing!" exclaimed Christine, as the
+dinner-bell sounded, and she passed the door with her mother. "It is
+splendid, the way Bessie manages Hatty. I wish some of us could learn
+the art, for all this wrangling with Tom is so tiresome."
+
+"Bessie never loses patience with her," returned her mother; "never lets
+her feel that she is a trouble. I think you will find that is the secret
+of Bessie's influence. Your father and I are often grateful to her.
+'What would that poor child do without her?' as your father often says;
+and I do believe her health would often suffer if Bessie did not turn
+her thoughts away from the things that were fretting her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE OATLANDS POST-MARK.
+
+
+One day, about three months after her adventure in the Sheen Valley,
+Bessie was climbing up the steep road that led to the Lamberts' house.
+It was a lovely spring afternoon, and Bessie was enjoying the fresh
+breeze that was blowing up from the bay. Cliffe was steeped in sunshine,
+the air was permeated with the fragrance of lilac blended with the faint
+odors of the pink and white May blossoms. The flower-sellers' baskets in
+the town were full of dark-red wallflowers and lovely hyacinths. The
+birds were singing nursery lullabies over their nests in the Coombe
+Woods, and even the sleek donkeys, dragging up some invalids from the
+Parade in their trim little chairs, seemed to toil more willingly in the
+sweet spring sunshine.
+
+"How happy the world looks to-day!" said Bessie to herself; and perhaps
+this pleasant thought was reflected in her face, for more than one
+passer-by glanced at her half enviously. Bessie did not notice them; her
+soft gray eyes were fixed on the blue sky above her, or on the glimpses
+of water between the houses. Just before she turned into the avenue that
+led to the house, she stopped to admire the view. She was at the summit
+of the hill now; below her lay the town; where she stood she could look
+over the housetops to the shining water of the bay, with its rocky
+island in the middle. Bessie always called it the bay, but in reality it
+resembled a lake, it was so landlocked, so closed in by the opposite
+shore, except in one part; but the smooth expanse of water, shining in
+the sunlight, lacked the freedom and wild freshness of the open sea,
+though Bessie would look intently to a distant part, where nothing, as
+she knew, came between her and the Atlantic. "If we only went far
+enough, we should reach America; that gives one the idea of freedom and
+vastness," she thought.
+
+Bessie held the idea that Cliffe-on-Sea was one of the prettiest places
+in England, and it was certainly not devoid of picturesqueness.
+
+The houses were mostly built of stone, hewn out of the quarry, and were
+perched up in surprisingly unexpected places--some of them built against
+the rock, their windows commanding extensive views of the surrounding
+country. The quarry was near the Lamberts' house, and the Coombe Woods
+stretched above it for miles. Bessie's favorite walk was the long road
+that skirted the woods. On one side were the hanging woods, and on the
+other the bay. Through the trees one could see the gleam of water, and
+on summer evenings the Lambert girls would often sit on the rocks with
+their work and books, preferring the peaceful stillness to the Parade
+crowded with strangers listening to the band. When their mother or Tom
+was with them, they would often linger until the stars came out or the
+moon rose. How glorious the water looked then, bathed in silvery
+radiance, like an enchanted lake! How dark and sombre the woods! What
+strange shadows used to lurk among the trees! Hatty would creep to
+Bessie's side, as they walked, especially if Tom indulged in one of his
+ghost stories.
+
+"What is the use of repeating all that rubbish, Tom?" Bessie would say,
+in her sturdy fashion. "Do you think any one would hear us if we sung
+one of our glees? That will be better than talking about headless bogies
+to scare Hatty. I like singing by moonlight."
+
+Well, they were just healthy, happy young people, who knew how to make
+the most of small pleasures. "Every one could have air and sunshine and
+good spirits," Bessie used to say, "if they ailed nothing and kept their
+consciences in good order. Laughing cost nothing, and talking was the
+cheapest amusement she knew."
+
+"That depends," replied her father oracularly, on overhearing this
+remark. "Words are dear enough sometimes. You are a wise woman, Bessie,
+but you have plenty to learn yet. We all have to buy experience
+ourselves. I don't want you to get your wisdom second-hand; second-hand
+articles don't last; so laugh away, child, as long as you can."
+
+"I love spring," thought Bessie, as she walked on. "I always did like
+bright things best. I wonder why I feel so hopeful to-day, just as
+though I expected something pleasant to happen. Nothing ever does
+happen, as Chriss says. Just a letter from Tom, telling us his news, or
+an invitation to tea with a neighbor, or perhaps a drive out into the
+country with father. Well, they are not big things, but they are
+pleasant, for all that. I do like a long talk with father, when he has
+no troublesome case on his mind, and can give me all his attention. I
+think there is no treat like it; but I mean Hatty to have the next turn.
+She has been good lately; but she looks pale and dwindled. I am not half
+comfortable about her." And here Bessie broke off her cogitations, for
+at that moment Katie rushed out of the house and began dancing up and
+down, waving a letter over her head.
+
+"What a time you have been!" cried the child excitedly. "I have been
+watching for you for half an hour. Here is a letter for your own self,
+and it is not from Aunt Charlotte nor Uncle Charles, nor any old fogy
+at all."
+
+"Give it to me, please," returned Bessie. "I suppose it is from Tom,
+though why you should make such a fuss about it, as though no one ever
+got a letter, passes my comprehension. No, it is from Miss Sefton; I
+recognize her handwriting;" which was true, as Bessie had received a
+note from Edna a few days after she had left them, conveying her own and
+her mother's thanks for the kind hospitality she had received.
+
+"Of course it is from Miss Sefton; there's the Oatlands post-mark. Ella
+and I were trying to guess what was in it; we thought that perhaps, as
+Mrs. Sefton is so rich, she might have sent you a present for being so
+kind to her daughter; that was Ella's idea. Do open it quickly, Bessie;
+what is the use of looking at the envelope?"
+
+"I am afraid I can't satisfy your curiosity just yet, Kitty. Hatty is
+waiting for the silks I have been matching, and mother will want to know
+how old Mrs. Wright is. Duty before pleasure," finished Bessie, with
+good-humored peremptoriness, as she marched off in the direction of the
+morning-room.
+
+"Bessie is getting dreadfully old-maidish," observed Katie, in a sulky
+voice. "She never used to be so proper. I suppose she thinks it is none
+of my business."
+
+When Bessie had got through her list of commissions she sat down to
+enjoy her letter quietly, but before she had read many lines her color
+rose, and a half-stifled exclamation of surprise came from her lips;
+but, in spite of Hatty's curious questions, she read steadily to the
+end, and then laid the letter on her mother's lap.
+
+"Oh, mother, do let me hear it," implored Hatty, with the persistence of
+a spoiled child. "I am sure there is something splendid about Bessie,
+and I do hate mysteries."
+
+"So do I, Hatty; we think alike there. Shall I read it aloud, my dear?"
+and as Bessie nodded, Mrs. Lambert read the letter in her quiet, silvery
+voice:
+
+    "MY DEAR MISS LAMBERT," it began; "I told you that I should not
+    allow you to forget me, so, you see, I am keeping my promise
+    like a reliable young woman. Mamma says I have made a bad
+    commencement to my letter--that self-praise is no
+    recommendation. I think I remember that profoundly wise saying
+    in copy-book days; but I hold a more worldly view of the
+    subject. I think people are taken at their own value; so, on
+    principle, I never undervalue myself; and the gist of all this
+    is that I do not intend to be forgotten by a certain young lady
+    who enacted the part of Good Samaritan in the Sheen Valley.
+
+    "Now, as I must candidly confess to a sincere wish for a better
+    acquaintance with this same young lady, I am writing in my own
+    and mamma's name to beg you to favor us with your company at The
+    Grange for a few weeks.
+
+    "You must not think this is a very unconventional proceeding on
+    our part, as our parents were old friends. Mamma is writing to
+    Dr. Lambert by the same post, and she means to say all sorts of
+    pretty things to induce him to intrust you to our care.
+
+    "I wish I had the power of persuasion. Mamma has such a knack of
+    saying nice things, but indeed you must come. The Grange is such
+    a dear old house, and we know such pleasant people, and I want
+    you to see our Kentish lanes, and indeed mamma and I will make
+    you so comfortable. I don't mention Richard, because he is
+    nobody, and he never interferes with our friends.
+
+    "Now I am taking it for granted that you will not refuse me, so
+    I will proceed to tell you our arrangements. Mamma and I have
+    been in town the last five weeks, and we are both of us tired to
+    death of Vanity Fair, so we mean to go back to Oatlands next
+    week. You may come to us as soon after that as you like; fix
+    your own day and your train, and I will be at the station to
+    meet you.
+
+        "I remain, yours most sincerely,
+            "EDNA SEFTON."
+
+"Oh, Bessie, how delightful! But I don't like to spare you again so
+soon."
+
+"Now, Hatty, don't be selfish. You must not grudge Bessie the first real
+treat she has ever had offered to her. We have none of us had such a
+chance before. Fancy staying at a place like The Grange, and seeing lots
+of nice people."
+
+"I wish you could go in my place, Chrissy, dear. I am not quite sure how
+I should like staying with strange people; we have got into homely ways,
+never going anywhere except to Aunt Charlotte's or Uncle Charles', and
+I don't know how I should get on with rich people like the Sefton's;
+besides, father and mother may not wish me to accept the invitation,"
+glancing at her mother's thoughtful face.
+
+"We must see what your father says about it," returned Mrs. Lambert,
+rousing herself with difficulty from her abstraction. "I would not talk
+about it any more, girls, until we know his wishes. It will only
+disappoint Bessie if she makes up her mind that she would like to accept
+the invitation, and father thinks it wiser to refuse. Let us put it out
+of our heads until he comes home, and he and I will have a talk about
+it."
+
+"Yes, that will be best," returned Bessie, putting the letter in the
+envelope. "Father will not be home until late, but that does not matter;
+to-morrow will do quite well." And, to her sister's surprise and
+disappointment, she refused to say any more on the subject.
+
+"Mother is quite right," she observed, as Hatty fussed and grumbled at
+her silence. "If we talk about it, I shall just long to go, and shall be
+vexed and disappointed if father wishes me to refuse."
+
+"But you might coax him to change his mind. Father never likes
+disappointing us when we set our hearts on anything," urged Hatty.
+
+"No, indeed; I never like arguing things with father. He is not one to
+make up his mind in a hurry, like some people; he thinks over a thing
+thoroughly, and then he gives his opinion. If he does not wish me to go,
+he will have a good reason for saying so. I never found either father or
+mother wrong yet, and I am not going to find fault with them now. Don't
+let us talk any more about it, Hatty. I want to think of something
+else." But, in spite of this wise resolution, Bessie did think a good
+deal about the letter, and in her heart she hoped that her father would
+allow her to accept Miss Sefton's tempting invitation.
+
+Dr. Lambert did not return home that night until long after his girls
+had retired to rest, and to Bessie's surprise he said nothing to her at
+breakfast; but just as she was leaving the room to give out the stores,
+as usual, he called her back. "Oh, by the by, Bessie," he observed, "I
+have to drive out as far as Castleton this afternoon. I will take you
+with me if you care to go."
+
+"I always care to go with you, father dear," replied Bessie, and then
+she hesitated, as she remembered Hatty's pale cheeks; "but I think you
+ought to take Hatty instead; it would do her so much good, and she does
+so love a drive."
+
+"No, I think you shall be my companion this afternoon; I will take Hatty
+to-morrow," replied the doctor, as he took up his paper again.
+
+"Good child, she always thinks of poor Hatty," he said to himself, and
+his eyes glistened. "They are all good girls, but not one of them is so
+unselfish as my little Betty; she takes after her mother in that. Dora
+never thinks of herself."
+
+Bessie went about her household tasks with a light heart, for she had
+the prospect of a pleasant afternoon before her. The drive to Castleton
+would be lovely, and she would hear what her father had to say about the
+letter. So she was ready and waiting by the time the pretty little
+victoria came around to the door, and as Dr. Lambert stood on the porch,
+he thought the happy, sunshiny face looked very attractive under the new
+gray hat.
+
+"You look very smart, Bessie," he said, smiling. "Have I seen that very
+becoming hat before?"
+
+"Only last Sunday," returned Bessie brightly; "but I always put on my
+best things when I drive with you, that your daughter may do you
+credit;" for Bessie in her heart thought her father the handsomest man
+in Cliffe; and indeed many people admired the doctor's clever, refined
+face, and quiet, genial manners.
+
+The sturdy little roan trotted briskly down the lower road, as it was
+called, and Bessie leaned back and looked dreamily at the golden ripples
+that lay on the water, while the branches overhead threw flickering
+shadows on the road before them, until her father's voice roused her.
+
+"You and I are to have some talk together, I believe. Would you like to
+see Mrs. Sefton's letter, Bessie? Your mother showed me the one you
+received from her daughter." And as Bessie eagerly assented, he handed
+it to her.
+
+"It is a very nice letter," she observed, as soon as she had finished
+it; "it could not be more kindly expressed."
+
+"No; Mrs. Sefton is a ladylike woman, and she knows exactly what to say.
+It is a grand thing to have tact." And then he paused for a moment, and
+continued in an amused voice, "The world is a very small place after
+all. I have lived long enough in it not to be surprised at running
+against all sorts of odd people in all sorts of odd places, but I must
+own I was a little taken aback when you brought Miss Sefton into my
+house that night."
+
+"You knew Mrs. Sefton when you were a young man, father?"
+
+"I suppose I knew her fairly well, for I was engaged to her for six
+months." And as Bessie started, "Well, you will think that an odd speech
+for a father to make to his daughter, but, you see, I know our Bessie is
+a reliable little woman, who can keep her tongue silent. I have my
+reasons for telling you this. You have always been your mother's
+companion, as well as my right hand, and I would not let you go to The
+Grange in ignorance of the character of its inhabitants."
+
+"Oh, father, do you really mean me to go?"
+
+"We will come to that presently; let me finish what I was saying. I was
+fool enough to engage myself to a beautiful girl, knowing her to be
+unsuitable in every way for a poor man's wife, and I dare say I should
+have persisted in my blindness to the bitter end, if I had not been
+jilted by the young lady."
+
+"My dear father!"
+
+"My dear little Betty, please don't speak in that pitying tone; it was
+the best thing that could have happened to me. I dare say I had a bad
+time of it; young men are such fools; but I soon met your mother, and
+she healed all wounds; but if Eleanor Sartoris treated me badly, she met
+with her punishment. The man she married was a worthless sort of a
+fellow; he is dead, so I need not mind saying so now. He was handsome
+enough and had all the accomplishments that please women, but he could
+not speak the truth. I never knew a man who could lie so freely, and in
+other respects he was equally faulty, but Eleanor was infatuated, and
+she would marry him against the advice of her friends, and the first
+thing she found out was that he had deceived her on one point. She knew
+that he had married when almost a boy, and his wife had been long dead,
+but he kept from her that he had a son living. His excuse was that he
+had heard her say that nothing would induce her to undertake the duties
+of a stepmother, and that he feared a refusal on account of Richard. In
+this he had overreached himself; she never forgave the deception, and
+she barely tolerated the poor boy. I am afraid, from what I heard, that
+their short married life was not a happy one. Eleanor had a proud,
+jealous temper, but she was truthful by nature, and nothing was so
+odious in her eyes as falsehood and deceit. I can feel sorry for her,
+for no woman could respect a character like Sefton's, but I have always
+blamed her for her hardness to her stepson. His father doted on him, and
+Richard was the chief subject of their dissension on his death bed. He
+begged his wife to be kinder to the boy, but I do not know if this
+appeal softened her. The property belongs, of course, to her stepson,
+and in a sense she and her daughter are dependent on him, but it is not
+a united household. I know very little about the young man, except that
+he is industrious and fond of out-of-door pursuits, and farms his own
+estate; but I hear he is a little clownish in appearance. Now we are
+stopping, because I have a patient to see here, but I shall not be ten
+minutes, and we will resume our conversation presently."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+LITTLE MISS MUCH-AFRAID.
+
+
+Bessie had plenty of food for meditation while Dr. Lambert paid his
+visit to his patient, and he found her apparently absorbed in a brown
+study when he returned to the carriage.
+
+"Father dear," she said, rousing herself, as he placed himself beside
+her, "I have been thinking over all you have told me, and I cannot help
+wondering why you wish me to visit Mrs. Sefton, when she treated you so
+badly."
+
+Dr. Lambert was silent for a minute; the question was not an easy one to
+answer. His wife had said the very same thing to him the previous
+evening:
+
+"I wonder that you care to let Bessie visit at The Grange, when Eleanor
+Sartoris treated you so badly." And then she added, "I think she is very
+much to blame, too, for her behavior to her stepson. Margaret Tillotson
+tells me that he is an honest, good-hearted fellow, though not very
+clever, but that want of appreciation has made him shy and awkward."
+
+But he had been able to satisfy his wife without much difficulty. All
+their married life there had never been a shadow of a doubt between
+them; her calm, reasonable judgment had wholly approved her husband's
+conduct on all occasions; whatever he did or said had been right in her
+eyes, and she had brought up her daughters to think the same.
+
+"Well, do you know, Bessie," he said playfully, "I have more reasons
+than one for wishing you to go to The Grange? I have taken a fancy to
+Miss Sefton, and I want her mother to be acquainted with my daughter;
+and I think it will be good for you to extend your knowledge of the
+world. You girls are tied too much to your mother's apron-strings, and
+you must learn to do without her sometimes."
+
+This was all very well, but though Bessie smilingly accepted this
+explanation of her father's motives in permitting her to go to Oatlands,
+she was clever enough to know that more lay behind.
+
+Dr. Lambert had long ago forgiven the injury that had been done to him.
+His nature was a generous one; good had come out of evil, and he was
+tolerant enough to feel a kindly interest in Mrs. Sefton as an old
+friend. It is true she had created her own troubles, but in spite of
+that he could be sorry for her. Like a foolish woman she had built her
+life's hopes upon a shifting, sandy foundation; she had looked on the
+outward appearance, and a fair exterior had blinded her to the
+hollowness beneath. The result was bitterness and disappointment.
+
+"I should like her to see our Bessie," he had said to his wife. "Bessie
+is just like a sunbeam; she will do her good, and even if things are
+different from what she sees at home, it will do her no harm to know how
+other people live. Our girls are good girls, but I do not want them to
+live like nuns behind a grating; let them go out into the world a
+little, and enlarge their minds. If it were Christine, I might hesitate
+before such an experiment, but I have perfect confidence in Bessie."
+
+And his wife's answer to this had been:
+
+"I am quite sure you are right, Herbert, and I am perfectly willing to
+let Bessie visit your old friend." And so the matter ended. The doctor
+got his way as usual, simply by wishing for it.
+
+The drive was a long one, but it seemed short to Bessie, and she was
+quite sorry when it was over.
+
+"Thank you, father dear, it has been such a treat," she said, with a
+loving little squeeze of his arm; and then she ran in to find her
+mother.
+
+Mrs. Lambert looked up inquiringly as Bessie took off her hat and
+gloves.
+
+"Well, my dear, have father and you settled it?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, mother; and I am really to go. Father seems to like the
+idea. He has evidently fallen in love with Miss Sefton. I am afraid I am
+a great deal too much excited about it at present, but Hatty will soon
+damp me."
+
+"Poor child! she never likes you to go away. She does not mean to be
+selfish, and I know she struggles hard to control her feelings, but she
+will have a good cry when she hears you are going to Oatlands."
+
+"We must not let her mope, mother. If I thought it were good for Hatty I
+would stay at home, to prevent her feeling so miserable, but it would be
+false kindness to give in to her; she would hate herself for her
+selfishness, and she would not be a bit happy if she knew she had
+prevented my visit. I would rather see her fret before I go, and bear it
+as well as I can, and then I know she will cheer up soon and be looking
+forward to my return."
+
+"You are quite right, Bessie, and neither your father nor I would allow
+you to sacrifice yourself for Hatty. Too much indulgence on your part
+would only feed the poor child's nervous fancies. I know she feels her
+parting with you for a week or two as a serious trial, and I dare say it
+is a trial to her, but she must take it as one, and not selfishly spoil
+your pleasure. Now we will forget Hatty for a few minutes; there is
+something else troubling me. How are you to be fitted out for your
+visit, when I dare not ask your father for any more money?"
+
+"Well, I have thought about that, too," returned Bessie briskly. "I was
+reviewing my wardrobe all the time father was at Castleton House. He was
+quite half an hour away, so I had plenty of time. I was a little worried
+at first, thinking how I should manage, but somehow I made it all
+straight. Listen to me, mother, dear," as Mrs. Lambert sighed and shook
+her head. "Miss Sefton has been here, so she knows we are not rich
+people, and she will not expect to see many smart dresses. I don't want
+to pretend to be what I am not. We cannot afford to dress grandly, nor
+to have many new frocks, but I am sure we are just as happy without
+them."
+
+"Yes; but you never have stayed with rich people before, Bessie,"
+returned her mother sadly. "You do not know how shabby your old things
+will look beside other people's silks and satins. Father does not think
+about these things, and I do not like to remind him; but you ought to
+have a new jacket, though we did say the old one would do this year."
+
+"Now, mother, will you be quiet, please, and listen to me? for I am
+brimful of ideas, and I won't have you worry. The jacket must do, for I
+do not mean to ask father for a new one. I have my gray dress and hat,
+and father thinks they are very becoming; and there is my Indian muslin
+Uncle Charles gave me for best occasions, and if you will let me buy a
+few yards of white nun's-cloth Chrissy and I will contrive a pretty
+dinner-dress. I like white best, because one can wear different flowers,
+and so make a change. Perhaps I must have a pair of new gloves, and some
+shoes; but those won't cost much."
+
+"You are easily satisfied, darling," replied Mrs. Lambert fondly. "Yes,
+you shall have the nun's-cloth, and I will give you some of my lace to
+trim it. And there are the pearls that I wore on my wedding-day. Your
+father is so fond of them, but I always told him they were put aside for
+you. Wait a moment; they are in my escritoire, and you may as well have
+them now." And Mrs. Lambert unlocked the door, and opening a little box,
+placed the necklace in Bessie's hand. It consisted of three rows of tiny
+pearls, and was very simple and pretty.
+
+"Oh, mother, how lovely!" exclaimed the girl. "Is it really for me? That
+is just what I wanted; my gold chain is so thin that I hardly ever dare
+to wear it. It has been broken twice. But this is far prettier." And
+Bessie clasped the little necklace around her neck, and then went off
+proudly to show her treasure to Christine and Hatty, while Mrs. Lambert
+shed a few tears at the thought how little she had to give her girls.
+The next moment she dashed them away indignantly.
+
+"I ought to be ashamed of myself," she thought. "What would Herbert say
+if he found me crying in this childish way? What do our girls want with
+ornaments and pretty dresses? They have youth and good looks and
+manners. My Bessie is a perfect gentlewoman, in spite of her shabby
+frocks. No one could help being pleased with her gentle, modest ways. I
+expect it is my pride. I did not want Mrs. Sefton to think we are not
+rich. But I am wrong; my girls are rich. They are rich in having such a
+father, and in their own happy natures." And then Mrs. Lambert thought
+of those other ornaments that she desired for them--the ornament of a
+meek and quiet spirit; the priceless jewels of innocence and purity,
+which are the fairest adornments of a young girl.
+
+"These will not be lacking," she said to herself. "My Bessie's
+unobtrusive goodness will soon make itself felt."
+
+Bessie had made up her mind not to trouble about her scanty wardrobe,
+and she was quite happy planning the nun's-cloth dress with Christine.
+
+But though Dr. Lambert said nothing, he thought a great deal, and the
+result of his cogitations was, a five-pound note was slipped into
+Bessie's hand the next evening.
+
+"Go and buy yourself some finery with that," he observed quietly.
+
+Bessie could hardly sleep that night, she was so busy spending the money
+in anticipation; and the very next day she was the delighted purchaser
+of a new spring jacket and had laid out the remainder of the five-pound
+note in a useful black and white tweed for daily use, and a pretty lilac
+cotton, and she had even eked out a pair of gloves.
+
+Three dresses to be made; no wonder they were busy; even Mrs. Lambert
+was pressed into the service to sew over seams and make buttonholes.
+
+Hatty never complained her back ached when she worked for Bessie; her
+thin little hands executed marvelous feats of fine workmanship; all the
+finer parts were intrusted to Hatty.
+
+"I feel almost as though I were going to be married," observed Bessie,
+as she surveyed the fresh, dainty dresses. "I never had more than one
+new gown at a time. Now they are finished, and you are tired, Hatty, and
+you must go and lie down, like a good child."
+
+"I am not tired, not a bit," returned Hatty touchily; "and I am going
+out with Ella."
+
+Bessie held her peace. Hatty's temper had been very trying for the last
+three days; she had slaved for Bessie to the detriment of her health,
+but had worn an injured manner all the time.
+
+She would not join in the conversation, nor understand a joking remark.
+When Christine laughed at her in a good-humored way, Hatty pursed up her
+lips, and drew herself up in a huffy manner, and would not condescend to
+speak a word. She even rejected Bessie's caresses and little attempts at
+petting. "Don't, Bessie. I must go on with my work; I wish you would
+leave me alone," she would say pettishly.
+
+Bessie did leave her alone, but it made her heart ache to see the lines
+under Hatty's eyes, that showed she had cried herself to sleep. She knew
+it was unhappiness and not temper that was the cause of her
+irritability.
+
+"She is ashamed of letting me know that she cannot bear me to go away,"
+she thought. "She is trying to get the better of her selfishness, but it
+conquers her. I will leave her alone for a little, and then I will have
+it all out. I could not go away and leave her like that." For Bessie's
+warm, affectionate nature could not endure the thought of Hatty's pain.
+
+"I have so much, and she has so little," she said to herself, and her
+pity blunted all Hatty's sharp, sarcastic little speeches and took the
+sting out of them. "Poor little thing! she does not mean half she
+says," she remarked, as a sort of apology to Christine, when Hatty had
+marched off with Ella.
+
+"I don't know how you put up with her as you do," observed Christine,
+whose patience had been sorely exercised that morning by Hatty's
+tempers. "She is treating you as badly as possible. I would rather have
+been without her help, if I had been you; we might have had Miss Markham
+in for two days; that would have shamed Hatty nicely."
+
+"I don't want to shame her, Chrissy, dear; poor little Hatty! when she
+has been working so beautifully, too. She is worrying herself about my
+going away, and that makes her cross."
+
+"As though no one else would miss you," returned Christine stormily, for
+she was not quite devoid of jealousy. "But there, it is no use my
+talking; you will all treat Hatty as though she were a baby, and so she
+behaves like a spoiled child. I should like to give her a bit of my
+mind." And Christine tossed her pretty head and swept off the last
+dress, while Bessie cleared the table.
+
+Bessie's visit was fixed for the following Tuesday, so on Sunday evening
+she made up her mind that the time was come for speaking to Hatty. As it
+happened, they were keeping house together, for the rest of the family,
+the servants included, had gone to church. Hatty had just settled
+herself in a corner of the couch, with a book in her hand, expecting
+that Bessie would follow her example (for the Lambert girls were all
+fond of reading), when a hand was suddenly interposed between her eyes
+and the page.
+
+"This is our last quiet evening, Hatty, and I am going to talk instead
+of read, so you may as well shut up that big book."
+
+"It takes two to talk," observed Hatty, rather crossly, "and I am not in
+the mood for conversation, so you had better let me go on with 'Bishop
+Selwyn's Life.'"
+
+"You are not in the mood for reading either," persisted Bessie, and
+there was a gleam of fun in her eyes. "When you pucker up your forehead
+like that, I know your thoughts are not on your book. Let us have a
+comfortable talk instead. You have not been like yourself the last week,
+not a bit like my Hatty; so tell me all about it, dear, and see if I
+cannot make you feel better."
+
+"No, Bessie, don't try; it is not any use, unless I jump into somebody
+else's body and mind. I can't make myself different. I am just Hatty, a
+tiresome, disagreeable, selfish little thing."
+
+"What a lot of adjectives! I wonder they don't smother you. You are not
+big enough to carry so many. I think I could word that sentence better.
+I should just say, 'Hatty is a poor, weak little body to whom mole-hills
+are mountains, and the grasshopper a burden.' Does not that sound
+nicer?"
+
+"Yes, if it were true," returned Hatty sorrowfully, and then her
+ill-humor vanished. "No, don't pet me, Bessie; I don't deserve it," as
+Bessie stroked her hand in a petting sort of a way. "I have been cross
+and ill-tempered all the week, just unbearable, as Christine said; but
+oh, Bessie, it seemed as though I could not help it. I was so miserable
+every night to think you were going away, that I could not sleep for
+ever so long, and then my head ached, and I felt as though I were strung
+on wires when I came down the next morning, and every time people
+laughed and said pleasant things I felt just mad, and the only relief
+was to show every one how disagreeable I could be."
+
+Hatty's description of her overwrought feelings was so droll that Bessie
+with some difficulty refrained from laughing outright, but she knew how
+very real all this was to Hatty, so she exercised self-control, and
+said, quite gravely:
+
+"And so you wanted to make us all miserable, too. That was hardly kind,
+was it, when we were all so sorry for you? I do think you have a great
+deal to bear, Hatty. I don't mean because you are so weak in health;
+that could be easily borne; but it must be so sad always to look on the
+dark side of things. Of course, in some sense, we all project our own
+shadows; but you are not content with your own proper shadow, you go
+poking and peering about for imaginary ones, and so you are dark all
+round."
+
+"But your going away to Oatlands is not imaginary," returned Hatty
+piteously.
+
+"No, you foolish child. But I hope you do not grudge me a pleasant
+visit. That would be a great piece of substantial selfishness on your
+part, of which, I trust, my Hatty would not be capable. Supposing I gave
+in to this ridiculous fancy and said, 'Hattie hates me to go away, so I
+will just stop at home, and Miss Sefton shall be disappointed.' I wonder
+how you would like that?"
+
+"That would not please me, either. I am not so selfish as that. Oh,
+Bessie, do tell me how I am to conquer this nervous dread of losing you.
+It is not selfishness, for I do love to have treats; but when you go
+away I don't seem to take any pleasure in anything; it is all so flat
+and disagreeable. Sometimes I lie awake and cry when I think what I
+should do if you were to die. I know how silly and morbid it is, but how
+am I to help it?" And here Hatty broke down, and hid her face on
+Bessie's shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+IN THE KENTISH LANES.
+
+
+Bessie did not make any answer for a minute or two, but her eyes were a
+little dim as she heard Hatty sob.
+
+"I must not break the bruised reed," she said to herself. "Hatty's world
+is a very little one; she is not strong enough to come out of herself,
+and take wider views; when she loves people, she loves them somehow in
+herself; she can't understand the freedom of an affection that can be
+happy in the absence of its object. I am not like Hatty; but then our
+natures are different, and I must not judge her. What can I say that
+will help her?"
+
+"Can't you find anything to say to me, Bessie dear?"
+
+"Plenty; but you must wait for it to come. I was just thinking for
+you--putting myself in your place, and trying to feel as you do."
+
+"Well!"
+
+"I was getting very low down when you spoke; it was quite creepy among
+the shadows. 'So this is how Hatty feels,' I said to myself, and did not
+like it at all."
+
+"You would not like to be me, Bessie."
+
+"What an ungrammatical sentence! Poor little me! I should think not; I
+could not breathe freely in such a confined atmosphere. Why don't you
+give it up and let yourself alone? I would not be only a bundle of fears
+and feelings if I were you."
+
+"Oh, it is easy to talk, but it is not quite so easy to be good."
+
+"I am not asking you to be good. We can't make ourselves good, Hatty;
+that lies in different hands. But why don't you look on your unhappy
+nature as your appointed cross, and just bear with yourself as much as
+you expect others to bear with you? Why not exercise the same patience
+as you expect to be shown to you?"
+
+"I hardly understand you, Bessie. I ought to hate myself for my
+ill-temper and selfishness, ought I not?"
+
+"It seems to me that there are two sorts of hatred, and only one of them
+is right. We all have two natures. Even an apostle could say, 'Oh,
+wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this
+death?' Even St. Paul felt the two natures warring within him. How can
+you and I, then, expect to be exempt from this conflict?"
+
+"Don't put yourself in the same category with me, Bessie. You have
+crushed your lower nature, if you ever had it."
+
+"Oh, hush!" replied her sister, quite shocked at this. "You can't know
+what you are talking about." And here her voice trembled a little, for
+no one was more conscious of her faults and shortcomings. Bessie could
+remember the time when the conflict had been very hard; when her
+standard of duty had been lower than that she held now; when she had
+been as careless and indifferent as many girls of her age, until Divine
+guidance had led her feet into better paths; and knowing this, in her
+humility she could be tolerant of others.
+
+"You do not know what you are saying, Hatty, or you would not hurt me by
+such a speech; it is only your love for me that blinds you. What I want
+to tell you is this--that you must not be so impatient; you waste all
+your strength in saying hard things about yourself, instead of fighting
+your faults. Why don't you say to yourself, 'I am a poor, weak little
+creature, but my Creator knows that too, and he bears with me. I cannot
+rid myself of my tiresome nature; it sticks to me like a Nessus
+shirt'--you know the old mythological story, Hatty--'but it is my cross,
+a horrid spiky one, so I will carry it as patiently as I can. If it is
+not always light, I will grope my way through the shadows; but my one
+prayer and my one effort shall be to prevent other people suffering
+through me?'"
+
+"Oh, Bessie, that is beautiful!"
+
+"You will find nothing else will help you to fight your bogies; do try
+it, darling. Be merciful to your poor little self; 'respect the possible
+angel in you,' as Mr. Robertson said. You will get rid of all your
+faults and fancies one day, as your namesake did in the river. You won't
+always be poor little Hatty, whose back aches, and who is so cross;
+there is no pain nor crossness in the lovely land where all things are
+new."
+
+"Oh, if we were only there now, Bessie, you and I, safe and happy!"
+
+"I would rather wait till my time comes. I am young and strong enough to
+find life beautiful. Don't be cowardly, Hatty; you want to drop behind
+in the march, before many a gray-haired old veteran. That is because you
+are weak and tired, and you fear the long journey; but you forget," and
+here Bessie dropped her voice reverently, "that we don't journey alone,
+any more than the children of Israel did in the wilderness. We also have
+our pillar of cloud to lead us by day, and our pillar of fire by night
+to give us light. Mother always said what a type of the Christian
+pilgrimage the story of the Israelites is; she made us go through it all
+with her, and I remember all she told me. Hark! I think I hear
+footsteps outside the window; the servants are coming in from church."
+
+"Wait a minute, Bessie, before you let them in. You have done me so much
+good; you always do. I will try not to mope and vex mother and Christine
+while you are away." And Hatty threw her arms penitently round her
+sister's neck.
+
+Bessie returned her kisses warmly, and left the room with a light heart.
+Her Sunday evening had not been wasted if she had given the cup of cold
+water in the form of tender sympathy to one of Christ's suffering little
+ones.
+
+Bessie felt her words were not thrown away when she saw Hatty's brave
+efforts to be cheerful the next day, and how she refrained from sharp
+speeches to Christine; she did not even give way when Bessie bade her
+good-bye.
+
+"You will remember our Sunday talk, Hatty, dear."
+
+"I do remember it," with a quivering lip, "and I am trying to march,
+Bessie."
+
+"All right, darling, and I shall soon be back, and we can keep step
+again. I will write you long letters, and bring you back some ferns and
+primrose roots," and then Bessie waved her hand to them all, and jumped
+in the brougham, for her father was going to take her to the station.
+
+It must be confessed that Bessie felt a trifle dull when the train
+moved off, and she left her father standing on the platform. With the
+exception of short visits to her relatives, that were looked on in the
+light of duties, she had never left home before. But this feeling soon
+wore off, and a pleasant sense of exhilaration, not unmixed with
+excitement followed, as the wide tracts of country opened before her
+delighted eyes, green meadows and hedgerows steeped in the pure
+sunlight. Bessie was to be met at the station by some friend of the
+Seftons, as the country-bred girl knew little about London, and though a
+short cab drive would deposit her at Charing Cross, it would be far
+pleasanter for her to have an escort. Mrs. Sefton had suggested Mrs.
+Sinclair, and Dr. Lambert had been much relieved by her thoughtfulness.
+
+As the train drew up to the platform Bessie jumped out, and stood
+eagerly looking about her for the lady whom she expected to see, and she
+was much surprised when a gentlemanly looking man approached her, and
+lifting his hat, said, with a pleasant smile:
+
+"I believe I am addressing Miss Lambert."
+
+"Yes, certainly; that is my name," returned Bessie, in rather an
+embarrassed manner.
+
+"Ah, that is all right, and I have made no mistake. Miss Lambert, my
+mother is so seriously indisposed that she was unable to meet you
+herself, but you must allow me to offer my services instead. Now I will
+look after your luggage, and then I will find you a cab. Will you come
+with me, please? The luggage is at the other end."
+
+"I am so sorry to trouble you," returned Bessie. "I have only one box--a
+black one, with 'E. L.' on the cover." And then she stood aside quietly,
+while Mr. Sinclair procured a porter and identified the box; and
+presently she found herself in a cab, with her escort seated opposite to
+her, questioning her politely about her journey, and pointing out
+different objects of interest on their way.
+
+Bessie's brief embarrassment had soon worn off; and she chatted to her
+new companion in her usual cheerful manner. She liked Mr. Sinclair's
+appearance--he looked clever, and his manners were quiet and well bred.
+He did not seem young; Edna had told her that he was thirty but he
+looked quite five years older.
+
+"I wonder how you recognized me so quickly?" Bessie observed presently.
+
+"It was not very difficult to identify you," he returned quietly. "I saw
+a young lady who seemed rather strange to her surroundings, and who was
+evidently, by her attitude, expecting some one. I could tell at once you
+were not a Londoner."
+
+"I am afraid I must have looked very countrified," returned Bessie, in
+an amused tone.
+
+"Pardon me, I meant no such invidious comparison. People from the
+country have an air of greater freshness about them, that is all. You
+live at Cliffe, do you not? I was never there, but it is rather an
+interesting place, is it not?"
+
+"I think it a dear place," returned Bessie enthusiastically; "but then
+it is my home, so I am not unprejudiced. It is very unlike other places.
+The streets are so steep, and some of the houses are built in such high,
+out-of-the-way nooks, you look up and see steps winding up the hill, and
+there is a big house perched up among the trees, and then another. You
+wonder how people care to climb up so many steps; but then, there is the
+view. I went over one of the houses one day, and from every window there
+was a perfect panorama. You could see miles away. Think what the sunsets
+must be from those windows!"
+
+"You live lower down the hill, then?" with an air of polite interest.
+
+"Yes, in such a quiet, secluded corner; but we are near the quarry
+woods, and there are such lovely walks. And then the bay; it is not the
+real open sea you know, but it is so pretty; and we sit on the rocks
+sometimes to watch the sunset. Oh, I should not like to live anywhere
+else!"
+
+"Not in London, for example?"
+
+"Oh, no, not for worlds! It is very amusing to watch the people, but one
+seems to have no room to breathe freely."
+
+"We are pretty crowded, certainly," returned Mr. Sinclair; "but some of
+us would not care to live anywhere else, and I confess I am one of those
+people. The country is all very well for a month or two, but to a
+Londoner it is a sort of stagnation. Men like myself prefer to be at the
+heart of things--to live close to the centre of activity. London is the
+nucleus of England; not only the seat of government, but the focus of
+intellect, of art, of culture, of all that makes life worth living; and
+please do not put me down as a cockney, Miss Lambert, if I confess that
+I love these crowded streets. I am a lawyer, you know, and human nature
+is my study."
+
+"I quite understand you," returned Bessie, with the bright intelligence
+that was natural to her. She was beginning to think Edna a fortunate
+girl. "There must be more in her than I thought, or this clever man
+would not have chosen her," she said to herself; for Bessie, in her
+girlish innocence, knew little of the law of opposites, or how an
+intellectual or scientific man will sometimes select for his life
+companion a woman of only ordinary intelligence, who will, nevertheless,
+adorn her husband's home by her simple domestic virtues. A wife does not
+need to be a moral whetstone to sharpen her husband's wits by the
+fireside, neither would it enhance his happiness to find her filling
+reams of foolscap paper with choice specimens of prose and poetry;
+intelligent sympathy with his work is all he demands, and a loving,
+restful companion, who will soothe his hours of depression, who is never
+too weary or self-absorbed to listen to the story of his successes or
+failures.
+
+"I shall be down at The Grange in a week or two--that is, if my mother
+be better; and then I hope we shall renew our acquaintance," were Mr.
+Sinclair's parting words as he took leave of Bessie; and Bessie
+sincerely echoed this wish.
+
+"He is the sort of a man father would like," she thought, as the train
+moved slowly out of the station.
+
+This was paying a great compliment to Mr. Sinclair, for Dr. Lambert was
+rather severe on the young men of the day. "I don't know what has come
+to them," he would remark irritably; "young men nowadays call their
+father 'governor,' and speak to him as though he were their equal in
+age. There is no respect shown to elders. A brainless young puppy will
+contradict a man twice his age, and there is not even the same courtesy
+shown to the weaker sex either. I have heard young men and young
+women--young ladies, I suppose I ought to say--who address each other in
+a 'hail-fellow-well-met' sort of manner, but what can you expect," in a
+disgusted tone, "when the girls talk slang, and ape their young
+brothers? I think the 'sweet madame' of our great-grandmothers' times
+preferable to these slipshod manners. I would rather see our girls live
+and die in single blessedness than marry one of those fellows."
+
+"Father, we don't want to marry any one, unless he is as nice as you,"
+replied Christine, on overhearing this tirade, and Bessie had indorsed
+this speech.
+
+It was rather late in the afternoon when Bessie reached her destination,
+and she was feeling somewhat weary and dusty as she stood on the
+platform beside her box. The little station was empty, but as Bessie was
+waiting to question the porter, a man-servant came up to her and touched
+his hat.
+
+"Miss Sefton is outside with the pony-carriage," he said civilly. "I
+will look after the luggage, ma'am--there is a cart waiting for it."
+
+"Oh, thank you!" returned Bessie, and she went quickly through the
+little waiting-room. A young man in knickerbockers, with a couple of
+large sporting dogs, was talking to the station-master, and looked after
+her as she passed; but Bessie did not notice him particularly; her eyes
+were fixed on the road, and on a pony-carriage drawn up under the trees.
+Miss Sefton waved her whip when she saw Bessie, and drove quickly up to
+the door. She looked prettier than ever in her dark-blue cambric and
+large shady hat.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Lambert? I am delighted to see you again. How
+punctual you are. Jump in. Ford will look after your luggage. This is a
+very different meeting, is it not, from our last? No snow about, but a
+very hot sun for June. Where is your sunshade? You will want it. Yes,
+that is right; put it up--my hat shades me. Now then, Ford, are you
+ready? Go on, Jack. What are you about, Jill? Are not my ponies pretty,
+Miss Lambert? Richard gave them to me last birthday, but I am afraid I
+plagued him a good deal beforehand to provoke such unusual generosity.
+There is nothing like teasing when you want a thing."
+
+Bessie smiled, but remained silent; she was tired, and not quite
+inclined for repartee. They had turned into a long, lovely lane, so
+narrow that no vehicle could have passed them, and the thick hedgerows
+were full of pink and white briar roses and other wild flowers; on
+either side lay hop fields. Bessie uttered a delighted exclamation.
+
+"Yes, I told you you would admire our Kentish lanes. They are pretty
+now, but in the winter they are not quite so pleasant. Well, did Mrs.
+Sinclair meet you, as she promised?"
+
+"No, her son came instead; he said his mother was seriously indisposed,
+and unable to keep her engagement."
+
+"Neville met you. How extremely odd! How on earth did you discover each
+other? Were you very much embarrassed, Miss Lambert?"
+
+"No; it was a little strange at first, but Mr. Sinclair was very kind
+and pleasant, and soon put me at my ease."
+
+"Oh, Neville always gets on with ladies; there is certainly no fault to
+find with him in that respect. His civility is natural to him; he is
+just as polite to an old woman with a market basket and a few apples
+tied up in a blue spotted handkerchief as he is to a lady whose dress
+has been made by Worth."
+
+"I call that true politeness," returned Bessie warmly.
+
+"There is not much of the precious commodity to be found in our days;
+the young men one meets in society are not cut after that pattern. And
+so Mrs. Sinclair is ailing again?"
+
+"'Seriously indisposed,' was Mr. Sinclair's expression; and he looked
+rather grave, I thought."
+
+"My dear creature, Neville always looks grave, as though he were engaged
+in a criminal investigation. He is a barrister, you see, and he troubles
+himself if his mother's finger aches. The dear old lady is always
+ailing, more or less, but there is never much the matter--a creaking
+door; you know the sort; only Neville always makes the worst of it. Now,
+look here, Miss Lambert, that is what we call the village--just those
+few cottages and the inn; there is not even a church; we have to walk
+over to Melton, a mile and a half away. Isn't that pond pretty, with the
+ducks on it? and there is a flock of geese. Now we have only to turn
+down this road and there is The Grange." And as Miss Sefton pointed with
+her whip, Bessie saw the outlines of a large red house between the
+trees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+AT THE GRANGE.
+
+
+As Miss Sefton spoke the lane widened before them, and the hedgerows
+gave place to a short avenue of elms, the sunlight filtering through the
+thick interlaced branches, and throwing quivering shadows on the white
+road below; a low white gate opened into a meadow where some cattle were
+grazing, and on the right hand side was a large, straggling red house,
+with picturesque stables half smothered in ivy. The hall door stood open
+and a fine Scotch deerhound lay basking in the afternoon sun; he roused
+himself lazily as the pony carriage stopped before the door, and as
+Bessie alighted he came up to her wagging his tail slowly, and put his
+long, slender nose into her hand.
+
+"What a beautiful creature!" exclaimed Bessie, who was exceedingly fond
+of all dumb animals. "Look how friendly he is, as though he were
+welcoming me to The Grange."
+
+Miss Sefton, who was patting the sleek sides of Jack and Jill, looked
+round carelessly.
+
+"Mac is a good old dog, but he is not always so amiable to strangers; he
+has his likes and dislikes, as we humans have, only I must tell Richard
+that he has taken to you--he is his property. Now let us go and find
+mamma." And Edna locked her arm in Bessie's, and, followed closely by
+the deerhound, led her into the house.
+
+There was no servant in attendance; a strange hush and stillness seemed
+to pervade the place. Bessie almost felt oppressed by it. The hall was
+large and dark, with a smooth, slippery floor, and was panelled in dark
+oak; oak settles and large carved antique cabinets were ranged round the
+walls. The great fireplace was filled with green boughs, and a tiger
+skin, with a huge grinning head and eyes, lay before it. The quiet
+little country girl had never seen such a hall in her life.
+
+"Take care; our oak floors are slippery to people who are unused to
+them," observed Edna. "Mamma is in the drawing-room, I suppose." And she
+opened the door and ushered her companion into a handsome room, with
+three windows opening on to a lawn. A lady, who was sitting on a couch
+reading, rose as she perceived the two girls, and crossed the room with
+a slow, stately step.
+
+"Mamma, I have brought Miss Lambert."
+
+"I am very glad to see her, Edna. My dear," taking Bessie's hand, and
+kissing her cheek, "you are very welcome for your father's sake."
+
+"Thank you," returned Bessie, with unusual shyness, for Mrs. Sefton's
+stateliness rather awed her. Both her words and her manner were kind;
+nevertheless, Bessie found it difficult to respond; even when Mrs.
+Sefton had established her in the corner of the couch, and was
+questioning her with polite interest about her journey, she found
+herself answering in almost monosyllabic replies, as though she were
+tongue-tied.
+
+"I cannot tell what came over me," she wrote the next day to her mother;
+"I never felt so bashful and stupid in my life; and yet Mrs. Sefton was
+most kind and considerate, only her graciousness seemed to crush me. She
+is very handsome, far handsomer than her daughter, slightly stout, but
+such a grand looking figure; Miss Sefton and I look like pygmies beside
+her; but there is one thing that strikes me about her--a sort of
+hardness when she is not speaking. I never saw a mouth closed so
+tightly; and then there is no rest in her face. I could not help
+thinking about father's story as I looked at her; it is not the face of
+a happy woman. I can imagine that disappointment in her husband has
+hardened her. I admire her very much; she fascinates and yet repels me,
+but I do not think I could love her very much. Miss Sefton does, but
+then her mother dotes on her."
+
+Bessie was devoutly wishing herself at home during that first quarter of
+an hour, but after a few minutes Mrs. Sefton's questions ceased, and she
+touched a silver-mounted gong beside her, and almost as though by magic
+the door was thrown noiselessly back, and the butler entered with the
+tea-tray, followed by a footman in smart livery. Bessie wondered what
+her mother would have thought of the delicate Worcester china that was
+placed on a low table beside Mrs. Sefton, while a second table was
+quickly covered with bread and butter and dainty-looking cakes. Edna had
+thrown off her hat, and had coaxed Bessie to do the same; then she
+proceeded to wait on her guest. A little table was placed at Bessie's
+elbow, and all manner of sweet cakes forced on her. The very tea had a
+different flavor from her mother's tea; it was scented, fragrant, and
+mellow with rich country cream. Bessie sipped her tea, and crumbled her
+rich cake, and felt as though she were in a dream. Outside the
+smooth-shaven lawn stretched before the windows, there was a tennis-net
+up, and some balls and rackets were lying on the grass. Some comfortable
+wicker chairs were placed under a large elm at the bottom of the lawn.
+
+"Do you play tennis?" asked Edna abruptly, as she noticed Bessie's eyes
+were wandering to the garden.
+
+"A little; I am fond of the game, but I have not played a great deal;
+it takes time, and there is so much to do."
+
+"Edna plays beautifully," observed Mrs. Sefton. "It is a fine exercise
+for young people, if they are moderate and do not over-exert themselves.
+We have some neighbors, the Athertons, who come in nearly every day to
+practice with Edna."
+
+"Does not your brother play with you sometimes?" asked Bessie.
+
+"Richard? Oh, no?" And Edna's lip curled a little disdainfully. "He is
+far too busy to waste his time on me--he prefers playing cricket with
+the village lads at Melton. Bye the bye, mamma, I left Richard at the
+station; he said he had business with Malcolmson, and would not be home
+much before dinner."
+
+"Indeed, I am sorry to hear it," returned Mrs. Sefton coldly. "Of course
+it was no use my warning him against any dealings with Malcolmson;
+Richard will go his own way; but I confess that this infatuation for
+Malcolmson vexes me much;" and a slight frown crossed Mrs. Sefton's
+white forehead.
+
+"Was the young man with two splendid dogs that I passed in the
+waiting-room your brother?" asked Bessie, in some surprise.
+
+"Yes, that was Richard," returned Edna; and she added, a little
+maliciously, "I can see you are a little surprised. I suppose you took
+him for a young farmer or gamekeeper. Richard is terribly clownish in
+appearance."
+
+Bessie thought this speech was in very bad taste, but she replied
+quietly:
+
+"I cannot say I noticed your brother, but one of the dogs attracted my
+attention, he had such a fine head; I should think Landseer would have
+enjoyed painting him."
+
+"Oh, that must have been Gelert; every one admires him; I know Neville
+coveted him. Now we have finished tea, and I dare say you will be glad
+to get rid of the dust of your journey, so I will undertake to show you
+your room. Mamma was going to put you into the big spare room, but I
+insisted that you would prefer a smaller one. Was I right, Miss
+Lambert?"
+
+"Perfectly right, thank you," returned Bessie, as she rose with
+alacrity.
+
+Mrs. Sefton's eyes followed her curiously as she crossed the room.
+
+"A healthy, fresh-colored country girl," she said to herself; "quite a
+little rustic; but she seems a nice, harmless little thing; though why
+Edna took such a fancy to her rather puzzles me. I thought she would
+take after her father, but I can see no likeness. What a handsome fellow
+he was--poor Herbert!--and so gentlemanly." And here Mrs. Sefton sighed;
+for to her it was always a perilous thing to recall the past. No woman
+had ever been so foolish as she; she had cast away gold for dross.
+
+While her hostess was indulging in these heavy reflections, Bessie was
+uttering little staccato exclamations of delight at the sight of the
+room allotted her.
+
+"What a lovely view!" she had observed, running to the window, for not
+only was the pretty shady garden to be seen, but some meadows, and a
+glimpse of a fir wood in the distance; and it all looked so cool and
+still, and the only objects of moving life were some white lambs feeding
+by their mothers, and a pretty brown foal with its dam.
+
+"Do you think you will like your room?" asked Edna demurely; but there
+was a gleam of fun in her eyes as she put the question, for she had a
+vivid remembrance of Bessie's room at home; the strips of faded carpet,
+the little iron bedstead, and painted drawers; and yet it had been a
+haven of rest to her that night, and she had slept very sweetly on the
+little hard bed.
+
+"It is far too grand for me," returned Bessie candidly. "I shall feel
+like a fine lady for the first time in my life." And she looked round
+her with admiring scrutiny, noting every detail--the wax candles and
+hot-house flowers on the toilet-table, the handsome wardrobe and
+cheval-glass, the writing-table with its dainty appendages, and the
+cosy-looking couch; even the brass bedstead, with its blue cretonne
+hangings, and frilled pillow-cases, demanded some fresh comment.
+
+"I think it is a lovely room, and far too good for me," finished Bessie.
+
+"All our rooms are very comfortable," was the careless response; "but
+one is too used to this sort of thing to notice it. Now shall I send
+Brandon to help you? She is our maid, and understands hair-dressing
+perfectly. She will help you unpack and arrange your things."
+
+"Oh, no, thank you!" returned Bessie, in such an alarmed voice that Miss
+Sefton laughed; and then she continued, in rather a shamefaced manner:
+"You see I am not like you, Miss Sefton. I have not been used to
+luxuries and being waited on; we are plain people, and wait on
+ourselves."
+
+"Just as you like," was the indifferent answer. "Brandon is the comfort
+of my life, though she is such a cross old thing. Now, Bessie--I am
+going to call you Bessie, and I beg you to lay aside the stiff Miss
+Sefton--you must tell me if I can lend you anything, or help you in any
+way. And you are not to trouble about making yourself smart, for we have
+no one coming to dinner to-day, and I shall only put on an old dress. We
+are in the country now, and I don't mean to waste my fine London gowns
+on Richard, who calls every material dimity, and never knows whether one
+is dressed in velvet or sackcloth."
+
+Bessie smiled, and then asked if she might use any of the flowers on her
+toilet-table.
+
+"My dear child, just look behind you," was the amused answer; and Bessie
+saw a breast-knot of lovely crimson roses on the writing-table. "Those
+are for your use to-night, but if you will let me know every morning
+what color you want for the evening, I will tell Brandon."
+
+As Bessie was unpacking, she heard a faint scratching at her door, and
+on opening it found, to her great surprise, Mac, the deerhound, sitting
+on his haunches, with a very pleading look in his beautiful brown eyes.
+
+"You may come in if you like, old fellow," she said, wondering at
+his sudden friendship for a stranger; and, sure enough, the hound walked
+in and stretched himself under the writing-table, with his nose between
+his paws, quietly observant of every movement.
+
+When Bessie had finished her unpacking, she proceeded to brush out her
+bright, brown hair, and arrange it in her usual simple fashion. Then she
+put on the dress of cream-colored nun's veiling, which was cut square
+and trimmed with her mother's lace; and when she had clasped the pearls
+round her neck, and had pinned on her roses, she felt she had never been
+so well dressed in her life; and, indeed, the girl's freshness and
+sweet expression made her very pleasant to look upon.
+
+Bessie was sitting at the window thinking of Hatty when Edna entered,
+looking like a young princess to her dazzled eyes. The old gown proved
+to be a delicate blue silk, and was trimmed in a costly fashion, and she
+wore at her throat a locket with a diamond star. As she came sweeping
+into the room, with her long train and fair coronet of hair, she looked
+so graceful and so handsome that Bessie uttered an admiring exclamation.
+
+"Oh, don't look at me!" observed Edna rather pettishly. "I have told
+Brandon I really must discard this gown; it is getting too bad even for
+quiet evenings."
+
+"I think it lovely," returned Bessie, much surprised at this remark. "I
+thought it was quite new."
+
+"Oh, no; it is nearly a year old, quite a patriarch in gowns; and,
+besides, I am getting so tired of blue. Mamma likes me best in white,
+and I agree with her; but you look very nice, Bessie, more like a
+crimson-tipped Daisy than ever. You remind me so of a daisy--a humble
+little modest, bright-eyed thing."
+
+"Thank you, Miss Sefton," returned Bessie, blushing at such an
+unexpected compliment. "I think I must tell Hatty that."
+
+"Hatty! Oh, you mean the little pale-faced sister with the clever
+eyes. Now, what did I say to you? That I preferred Edna to Miss Sefton.
+Oh, there goes the second gong, and Richard has only just come in. Mamma
+will be so vexed at his unpunctuality. Why, I declare if Mac has not
+taken up his quarters under your table. I suppose he approves of Miss
+Daisy as much as I do."
+
+Edna chatted after this fashion as she tripped down the oak staircase,
+while Bessie followed her more slowly. They found Mrs. Sefton in a
+somewhat ruffled mood. She looked handsomer than ever in her gray silk
+dress; her hands were blazing with diamond rings, her dark hair was
+still unmixed with gray, and hardly needed the lace cap that covered it.
+
+"Richard has only just come in, mamma; need we wait for him?"
+
+"It is our duty to wait for the master of the house, Edna, however much
+we are inconvenienced by the delay." And Mrs. Sefton fanned herself with
+a dissatisfied expression. "Your brother never thinks of our comfort, as
+long as he is engrossed with his own occupations. I must apologize to
+you, Miss Lambert, for our unpunctuality. I am sure, after such a
+journey, you must need your dinner."
+
+"I am not at all hungry, thank you," replied Bessie, whose appetite was
+not stimulated by her hostess' aggrieved remarks. She sat literally on
+thorns during the next five minutes, while Mrs. Sefton fanned herself,
+and Edna walked up and down the room, humming snatches of songs, and
+then breaking off into a sarcastic observation on the length of
+Richard's toilet.
+
+"I shall expect great results," she was just saying, as the door opened,
+and a tall, broad-shouldered young man advanced rather awkwardly into
+the room.
+
+"I am afraid I am late again, mother," he began apologetically; but Mrs.
+Sefton apparently took no notice of this remark, except by a slight
+shrug of her shoulders.
+
+"We have been waiting half an hour," broke in Edna, with a pout. "You
+get worse and worse, Richard. Now, will you take in my friend, Miss
+Lambert? and mamma and I will follow."
+
+Bessie rose at once, as Mr. Sefton offered his arm, but beyond a stiff
+bow he took no further notice of her. His face wore a moody expression
+as they seated themselves at the table. His reception had evidently
+damped him.
+
+Bessie glanced at him. Richard Sefton was certainly not handsome; his
+features were rather heavily molded; he had a reddish mustache that hid
+his mouth, and closely cropped hair of the same color. His evening dress
+set rather awkwardly on him, and he had looked far better in his tweed
+coat and knickerbockers. Bessie was obliged to confess that Edna had
+been right in her description; there was something clownish about his
+appearance, and yet he looked a gentleman.
+
+"Have you nothing to tell us, Richard?" asked Mrs. Sefton sharply, when
+the silence had lasted long enough.
+
+"Nothing that will interest you," he replied, rather gloomily; and
+Bessie noticed that his voice was not unpleasant. "I have been with
+Malcolmson all the afternoon." And he looked steadily at Mrs. Sefton as
+he spoke.
+
+A slight flush crossed her face, but she evidently did not trust herself
+to answer.
+
+"I know our opinions differ about him," he continued, as though forcing
+himself to speak; "but for my part I think him a clear-headed,
+reliable fellow. He has done my business well, and has relieved me of a
+great deal of responsibility."
+
+"I hope you will not have cause to repent your rashness, Richard," was
+the severe answer; but Edna, who was watching her mother's countenance
+with some anxiety, interfered in an airy fashion:
+
+"Oh, pray don't begin to talk business, Richard, or you will make
+mamma's head ache. You know she can't bear to hear Malcolmson's name
+mentioned. All this is not very amusing for Miss Lambert. Can't you
+find something interesting to suit a young lady?"
+
+But if Edna hoped to pose as a peacemaker, she failed signally, for a
+sullen look came to her brother's face, and, with the exception of a
+slight attention to his guest's wants, and a few remarks about her
+journey and the weather, Richard made no further attempt to be
+agreeable.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+RICHARD SEFTON.
+
+
+"Richard is a perfect bear!" exclaimed Edna angrily, as she threw
+herself into one of the wicker seats on the lawn. It was a lovely
+evening; the sun was just setting, and she had invited Bessie to take a
+stroll round the garden.
+
+"The dews are very heavy," remonstrated her friend. "I think we had
+better keep to the gravel paths." And then Edna had got up from her
+seat, grumbling as she did so, and had again reiterated her opinion that
+Richard was a bear.
+
+"I think something must have put him out," returned Bessie, who was
+always prompt in defence of the absent. "He did not look quite happy."
+
+"That was because mamma was so vexed about his unpunctuality, and about
+Malcolmson. Richard hates to vex her, and when she looks at him like
+that he always becomes gloomy and morose. I have known him silent for
+days, when they have fallen out about something. I am taking you behind
+the scenes, Bessie, but all our friends know that mamma and Richard do
+not agree. You see, mamma is very clever, and she likes managing, and
+Richard has a will of his own; he is very tenacious of his own opinions,
+and when he has got an idea into his head he can be as stubborn as a
+mule."
+
+"Don't you think a man has a right to his own opinion, Edna?"
+
+Edna pursed up her lips.
+
+"A man like Neville, perhaps, who is clever and knows the world; but
+Richard is a perfect child in some things. He ought to be reasonable,
+and allow mamma to have her way. Now, she dislikes Malcolmson--she does
+not believe in him; and Richard, as you hear, swears by him."
+
+"Who is Mr. Malcolmson, if I may venture to ask?"
+
+"Oh, he is an ugly, scrubby little Scotchman whom Richard means to take
+as a sort of bailiff, or overseer, or something; I don't understand
+what."
+
+"Your brother farms himself, does he not?"
+
+"Yes, he has a large farm; and then there is the brewery, a few miles
+off, and he wants Malcolmson for that. Mamma is disgusted, because she
+wanted Richard to take a _protégé_ of her own--such an interesting young
+fellow, and so poor, with a widowed mother and two or three young
+sisters; and my lord won't look at him."
+
+"Perhaps he has his reasons for declining him."
+
+"No, it is just his obstinacy; he will not allow mamma to interfere in
+his business. He thinks she ought to keep to her own department, and
+leave him to manage his own concerns; but mamma can't see it; she has
+been used to rule, and she is always offended when he refuses to take
+her advice."
+
+"What a pity!" observed Bessie. "I think people in one house ought to be
+of one mind."
+
+"My dear Daisy, your golden rule won't hold at The Grange. No one thinks
+alike in this house; mamma and I dote on each other, but we do not
+always agree; she makes me cry my eyes out sometimes. And as for
+Neville, as I told you, we have not an idea in common. I think perfect
+agreement must be rather monotonous and deadening. I am sure if Neville
+were to say to me, 'My dear Edna, you are always right, and I agree with
+you in everything,' I should be ready to box his ears. It is much more
+amusing to quarrel half a dozen times a day, and make it up again. Oh, I
+do dearly love to provoke Neville; he looks so deliciously bored and
+grave."
+
+Bessie was at a loss how to answer this extraordinary statement, but
+Edna gave her no time to collect her ideas.
+
+"Quarrelling with Richard is poor fun," she went on; "he hasn't the wit
+to retaliate, but just sits glum as you saw him to-night. I mean to
+tell Master Richard, though, that his manners were worse than usual, for
+he actually did not open his lips to his guest, although she was a
+stranger."
+
+"Indeed you are wrong," returned Bessie eagerly. "You are doing your
+brother an injustice; he spoke to me several times, and made remarks
+about the weather and my journey. I was just describing Cliffe to him
+when your mother gave us the signal to rise."
+
+"What a brilliant conversation!" observed Edna sarcastically. "Well, I
+will prove to you that Richard is in his sulks, for he won't enter the
+drawing-room again to-night; and if he did," she added, laughing, "mamma
+would not speak to him, so it is just as well for him to absent himself.
+Now let us go in, and I will sing to you. When people are not here mamma
+always reads, and I sing to her."
+
+Edna sung charmingly, and Bessie much enjoyed listening to her; and when
+she was tired Mrs. Sefton beckoned Bessie to her couch, and talked to
+her for a long time about her family.
+
+"All this interests me; I like to hear your simple descriptions, my
+child," she said, when Edna interrupted them by reminding her mother of
+the lateness of the hour. "Now you must go to bed." And she dismissed
+her with another kiss and a kindly good-night.
+
+As the two girls went out into the hall they found Richard Sefton
+hanging up his cap on the peg. He wore a light overcoat over his evening
+dress, and had evidently spent his evening out.
+
+"Good-night, Richard," observed Edna, with a careless nod, as she passed
+him; but Bessie held out her hand with a smile.
+
+"Good-night, Mr. Sefton. What a beautiful evening it has been!"
+
+"Yes, and so warm," he returned cheerfully, as though the girl's smile
+had loosened his tongue; "it is glorious haymaking weather. I expect we
+shall have a fine crop in the lower meadow."
+
+"Are you haymaking?" exclaimed Bessie, with almost childish delight.
+"Oh, I hope your sister will take me into the hayfield."
+
+"I will promise anything, if only you and Richard will not turn over the
+haycocks now," retorted Edna, with sleepy impatience. "Do come, Bessie."
+And Bessie followed her obediently.
+
+Richard Sefton looked after her as her white dress disappeared up the
+dark staircase.
+
+"She seems a different sort from most of Edna's friends," he muttered,
+as he lighted his pipe and retired to the nondescript apartment that was
+called his study. "There does not seem much nonsense about her. What do
+you think about it, Mac?" as the hound laid his head on his knee. "I
+imagine, as a rule, women have a precious lot of it." And he whistled a
+bar from the "Miller of the Dee."
+
+    "I care for nobody, no, not I,
+     And nobody cares for me."
+
+"What a long evening it has been!" thought Bessie, as she leaned out of
+the window to enjoy the sweet June air, and to admire the lawn silvered
+by the moonlight.
+
+"It seems two days at least since I left Cliffe. Oh, I hope Hatty is
+asleep, and not fretting!"
+
+"I wonder if I shall be happy here," she went on. "It is all very
+nice--the house and the country beautiful, and Edna as delightful as
+possible; but there is something wanting--family union. It is so sad to
+hear Edna talking about her brother. He is a perfect stranger to me, and
+yet I took his part at once. How could the poor fellow talk and enjoy
+himself while Mrs. Sefton was sitting opposite to him looking like an
+offended tragedy queen? He had not the heart to talk; besides, he knew
+that in engaging that man he was going against her wishes, and so he
+could not feel comfortable. Edna was wrong in calling him a bear. He was
+not at his ease, certainly; but he anticipated all my wants, and spoke
+to me very nicely. But there, I must not mix myself up in family
+disagreements. I shall have to be civil and kind to every one; but it
+makes one thankful for one's peaceful home, and the dear mother and
+father," and the tears came into Bessie's eyes as she thought of her
+shielded and happy life, and the love of her sisters and Tom.
+
+"God bless them all, and make me worthy of them!" thought the girl, with
+a sudden rush of tenderness for the dear ones at home.
+
+Bessie was an early riser. Dr. Lambert had always inculcated this useful
+and healthy habit in his children. He would inveigh bitterly against the
+self-indulgence of the young people of the present day, and against the
+modern misuse of time. "Look at the pallid, sickly complexions of some
+of the girls you see," he would say. "Do they look fit to be the future
+mothers of Englishmen? Poor, feeble creatures, with no backbone to
+mention, leading unhealthy, frivolous existences. If my girls are not
+handsome, they shall at least be healthy; they shall learn self-control
+and self-guidance. Early hours will promote good appetites; plenty of
+exercise, fresh air and good digestion will sweeten their tempers and
+enliven their spirits; a clear conscience and a well-regulated mind will
+bring them happiness in whatever circumstances they are placed. I am not
+anxious for my girls to marry. I don't mean to play minor providence in
+their lives, as some fathers do; but I would fit them for either
+position, for the dignity of marriage or for the unselfish duties of the
+single woman."
+
+Dr. Lambert loved to moralize to his womankind; he had a way of standing
+before the fire and haranguing his family--anything would serve as a
+text for his discourse. Some of his daughters certainly thrived on his
+homely prescriptions, but Hatty was the thorn in her father's side, the
+object of his secret anxiety and most tender care--the sickly one of his
+domestic flock. Hatty would never do him credit, he would say sadly; no
+medical skill could put color into Hatty's pale cheeks, nor cure the
+aches and pains and nervous fancies that harassed her youth. As Dr.
+Lambert watched the languid step, or dissatisfied voice, he would sigh,
+as though some thought oppressed him; but with all his gentleness--and
+he was very gentle with Hatty--he never yielded, nor suffered any one
+else to yield, to her wayward caprices.
+
+"My dear," he would say, when Bessie pleaded for some little extra
+indulgence for Hatty, "you must not think me hard if I say distinctly
+'No' to your request. You may trust me; I know Hatty better than you do.
+Very little would make her a confirmed invalid. It is not in our power,
+not in the power of any man living," continued the doctor, with emotion,
+"to give that poor child health; but we may help her a great deal by
+teaching her self-control. Half her misery proceeds from her own nervous
+fancies. If we can help her to overcome them, we shall do more for Hatty
+than if we petted and waited on her." But Bessie had always found this
+wise prescription of the doctor's a very difficult one.
+
+Bessie always called the hour before breakfast her "golden hour," and by
+her father's advice she devoted it to some useful reading or study. In a
+busy house like the Lamberts', where every one put his or her shoulder
+to the wheel, it was not easy to secure opportunity for quiet reading or
+self-improvement. There was always work to be done; long walks to be
+taken; the constant interruption of the two school-girls; Ella's
+practicing to overlook; Katie's French verbs to hear; besides household
+tasks of all kinds. In the evenings the girls played and sung to please
+their father, who delighted in music; sometimes, but not often, their
+mother read aloud to them while they worked. It was against the family
+rules for one to retire into a corner with a book. In such a case the
+unfortunate student was hunted out, teased, pursued with questions,
+pelted with home witticisms, until she was glad to close her book and
+take up her needlework, for the Lamberts were brisk talkers, and their
+tongues were never silent until they were asleep, and then they talked
+in their dreams.
+
+When Bessie rose early, as usual, the morning after her arrival at The
+Grange, she sat down by the open window, and wrote a long letter to her
+mother and a little note to Hatty. It was an exquisite morning; the
+thrushes and blackbirds, the merle and the mavis of the old English
+poets, were singing as though their little throats would burst with the
+melody, and a pair of finches in the acacia were doing their best to
+swell the concert; the garden looked so sunny and quiet, and such a
+sweet breath of newly made hay came in at the open window that Bessie at
+last laid down her pen. The household was stirring, but the family would
+not be down for half an hour, so the maid had informed her when she
+brought Bessie the morning cup of tea. Bessie had looked rather
+longingly at the pretty teapot, but her father had been so strong in his
+denunciations against slow poison, as he called it, imbibed on waking,
+that she would not yield to the temptation of tasting it, and begged for
+a glass of milk instead. This the maid promised to bring every morning,
+and as Bessie ate the bread and butter and sipped the sweet country
+milk, yellow with cream, she thought how much good it would do Hatty.
+Then she put on her hat and went softly downstairs, and finding a side
+door open, went out into the garden.
+
+She thought she and the thrushes and blackbirds had it to themselves,
+but she was mistaken, for in turning into a shrubbery walk, skirting the
+meadow, she was surprised to see Richard Sefton sitting on a low bench,
+with Mac's head between his knees, evidently in a brown study. Bessie
+was sorry to disturb him, but it was too late to draw back, for Mac had
+already seen her, and had roused his master by his uneasy efforts to get
+free, and Mr. Sefton rose, with the awkward abruptness that seemed
+natural to him, and lifted his cap.
+
+"Good morning, Miss Lambert. You are an early riser. My mother and Edna
+are hardly awake yet."
+
+"Oh, I am always up long before this," returned Bessie, smiling at his
+evident astonishment, as she stooped to caress Mac, who was fawning on
+her.
+
+"Mac seems to know you," he observed, noticing the dog's friendly
+greeting.
+
+"It is very strange, but he seems to have taken a fancy to me," replied
+Bessie, and she narrated to Mac's master how the hound had pleaded for
+admission to her room, and had lain under her table watching her unpack.
+
+"That is very odd," observed Richard. "Mac has never bestowed a similar
+mark of attention on any one but a certain homely old lady that my
+mother had here for a time, as a sort of charity; she had been a
+governess, and was very poor. Well, Mac was devoted to the old lady, and
+she certainly was an estimable sort of woman, but he will have nothing
+to say to any of Edna's fine friends, and generally keeps out of the way
+when they come."
+
+"An animal's likes and dislikes are very singular," remarked Bessie,
+looking thoughtfully into Mac's brown eyes. "I believe Mac knows that I
+am a lover of dogs."
+
+"Are you indeed, Miss Lambert? Would you like to see mine?" returned
+Richard quickly; and his face lighted up as he spoke. He looked
+younger and better than he did the previous night. His powerful,
+muscular figure, more conspicuous for strength than grace, showed to
+advantage in his tweed shooting-coat and knickerbockers, his
+ordinary morning costume. The look of sullen discomfort had gone,
+and his face looked less heavy. Bessie thought he hardly seemed his
+age--nine-and-twenty--and, in spite of his natural awkwardness, he
+had a boyish frankness of manner that pleased her.
+
+Bessie was a shrewd little person in her way, and she already surmised
+that Richard Sefton was not at ease in his stepmother's presence. She
+found out afterward that this was the case; that in spite of his
+strength and manhood, he was morbidly sensitive of her opinion, and was
+never so conscious of his defects as when he was presiding at his own
+table, or playing the part of host in her drawing-room, under her
+critical eye. And yet Richard Sefton loved his stepmother; he had an
+affectionate nature, but in his heart he knew he had no cause to be
+grateful to her. She had made him, the lonely, motherless boy, the
+scapegoat of his father's deceit and wrongdoing. He had been allowed to
+live at The Grange on sufferance, barely tolerated by the proud girl who
+had been ignorant of his existence. If he had been an engaging child,
+with winning ways, she would soon have become interested in him, but
+even then Richard had been plain and awkward, with a shy, reserved
+nature, and a hidden strength of affection that no one, not even his
+father, guessed. Mrs. Sefton had first disliked, and then neglected him,
+until her husband died, and the power had come into Richard's hands.
+Since then she had altered her behavior; her interests lay in
+conciliating her stepson. She began by recognizing him outwardly as
+master, and secretly trying to dominate and guide him. But she soon
+found her mistake. Richard was accessible to kindness, and Mrs. Sefton
+could have easily ruled him by love, but he was firm against a cold,
+aggressive policy. Secretly he shrunk from his stepmother's sarcastic
+speeches and severe looks; his heart was wounded by persistent coldness
+and misunderstanding, but he had sufficient manliness to prove himself
+master, and Mrs. Sefton could not forgive this independence. Richard
+took her hard speeches silently, but he brooded over them in a morbid
+manner that resembled sullenness. Yet he would have forgiven them
+generously in return for one kind look or word. His stepmother had
+fascinated and subjugated him in his boyhood, and even in his manhood
+it gave him a pang to differ from her; but the truth that was in him,
+the real inward manhood, strengthened him for the daily conflicts of
+wills.
+
+Poor Richard Sefton! But after all he was less to be pitied than the
+woman who found it so difficult to forgive a past wrong, and who could
+wreak her displeasure on the innocent.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+BESSIE IS INTRODUCED TO BILL SYKES.
+
+
+"Would you care to see my dogs, Miss Lambert?" asked Richard, and Bessie
+only hesitated for a moment.
+
+"Very much. That is, if it will not trouble you."
+
+"Not in the least; they are only just outside in the stable yard. Leo,
+our big mastiff, who gained the prize last year, is over at the farm. He
+is a splendid fellow, but a trifle fierce to strangers. He pulled a man
+down once, a tramp who was lurking about the place. Leo had got loose
+somehow, and he was at his throat in a moment. The poor fellow has the
+scar now; but I made it up to him, poor wretch."
+
+"I should not care to go near Leo's kennel," returned Bessie, with a
+shudder.
+
+"Oh, it would be all right if I were with you. I should just put my hand
+on your arm and say, 'A friend, Leo,' and he would be as gentle as Mac,
+here. Leo is my faithful servant and guardian at the farm. I always
+take him out for a walk on Sunday afternoons. Leo knows Sunday as well
+as I do. Now, we must be quick, or the gong will sound. There is no need
+to go through the house; this door leads to the kitchen garden, and we
+can reach the stables that way." And talking in this easy, friendly
+fashion, Richard quickly conducted Bessie down the trim gravel walks,
+under the apple and plum trees, and then unlocking a green door in the
+wall, Bessie found herself in the stable yard, where the groom was
+rubbing down a fine brown mare. The mare neighed as soon as she heard
+her master's voice, and Richard went up to her and petted her glossy
+sides.
+
+"That is brown Bess," he observed. "She is a skittish young thing, and
+plays her pranks with every one but me; but you and I understand each
+other, eh, old lady?" And the mare rubbed her nose against him in a
+confiding manner. Bessie looked on with an earnest air of interest.
+
+"Do you ride?" asked Richard presently.
+
+Bessie shook her head.
+
+"I have never been on horseback in my life; but I can imagine what a
+pleasure riding must be."
+
+"What a pity!" he returned briefly. "There is nothing like it." And so
+saying, he unlatched a gate and ushered his guest into a small paved
+yard, and then, opening a door, he uttered a prolonged whistle, and
+yelps, and a number of dogs, small and large, rushed out upon him.
+
+"Hi, there, Gelert! down, Juno; down, down, good dogs all." And Richard
+threatened them with his dogwhip.
+
+"Is this Gelert?" asked Bessie, pointing to a fine black retriever.
+
+"Yes; and that is Brand," patting the head of a handsome pointer. "That
+brown setter is Juno; she is the mother of those three puppies--fine
+little fellows, aren't they? Look at this curly haired one; two of them
+are promised to friends; they are a capital breed. Do you care for
+terriers, Miss Lambert? because Spot is considered a perfect beauty.
+Look at his coat; it is like satin."
+
+"And that knowing little fellow, what is his name?" and Bessie pointed
+to a very small black and tan terrier, who sat up and begged at once.
+
+"Oh, that is Tim; he ought by rights to be a house-dog, but he has taken
+a fancy to Spot, and insists on sharing his straw bed at night; they
+both have the run of the house by day--at least, as far as the hall and
+smoking-room are concerned. My mother hates dogs, and will not tolerate
+one in the drawing-room."
+
+"Surely, that is not one of your dogs," exclaimed Bessie, looking with
+some disfavor on an ugly white mongrel, with a black patch over one eye;
+her attention was attracted by the creature's ugliness. Evidently he
+knew he was no beauty, for, after uttering a short yelp or two in the
+attempt to join in the chorus of sonorous barks, he had crept humbly
+behind Richard, and sat on his haunches, looking up at him with a
+pathetically meek expression.
+
+"Oh, you mean Bill Sykes; yes, he is a pensioner of mine. Come along,
+Bill, and say good morning to your master."
+
+It was impossible to describe the change that came over the dog as
+Richard spoke to him in this kindly fashion; his whole body quivered
+with pleasure as he sprung up and licked Richard's hands.
+
+"What do you think, Miss Lambert? I found Bill one day tearing through
+Melton with a tin kettle tied to his tail, hunted by a pack of rascally
+school-boys; one of the little wretches had thrown a stone at him, and
+poor Bill was bleeding. I managed to stop him, somehow, and to free the
+poor beast from his implement of torture, and left him licking his wound
+by the roadside, while I caught two of the boys and thrashed them
+soundly. I reserved thrashing the others until a convenient season, but
+they all caught it. I read them a pretty lesson on cruelty to animals.
+Bill followed me home, and I have never parted with him since. The other
+dogs disdained his company at first, but now they tolerate him, and, on
+the whole, I think he leads a pleasant life. He knows he is of humble
+extraction, and so he keeps in the background, but he is a clever dog;
+he can walk across the yard on his hind legs--the gardener's boy taught
+him the trick. Now, then, Bill, walk like a gentleman." And Bill
+obediently rose on his hind legs and stalked across the yard with an air
+of dignity, followed by a fat, rollicking puppy, barking with all his
+might.
+
+Bill had just received his meed of praise when the gong sounded, and
+they had to hurry in to breakfast. They found Edna in a bewitching white
+morning dress.
+
+"I hope I am not late," observed Bessie, apologetically. "Mr. Sefton
+took me to see the dogs. I did so enjoy looking at them; they are such
+beautiful creatures."
+
+"Yes, especially Bill Sykes," returned Edna sarcastically. "Well, there
+is no accounting for tastes," with a critical look at Bessie's neat blue
+cotton. "I never venture in the yard myself, unless I have an old ulster
+on. I could not put on my dress again if all those scratchy paws had
+been over it. Richard does not train them properly; they all spring up
+and nearly knock me down in their clumsy gambols."
+
+"They are like their master, eh, Edna?" returned Richard good-humoredly.
+"Mother, shall I give you some ham? What time do you mean to bring Miss
+Lambert to the lower meadow, Edna? We shall be carrying this evening."
+
+"Oh, you need not expect us at all," returned Edna, to Bessie's
+disappointment. "I quite forgot the Atherton's are coming this
+afternoon, to practice for to-morrow."
+
+"I thought Miss Lambert wanted to see us make hay," observed Richard,
+looking at Bessie as he spoke; but she replied hastily:
+
+"Not if your sister has other plans, Mr. Sefton, thank you all the same;
+I would rather do as she wishes."
+
+"Yes, and you are fond of lawn tennis, are you not? We have a garden
+party to-morrow, and you ought to practice, you see. I want you to know
+the Athertons; they are such nice girls, Florence especially; plenty of
+go in them, and no nonsense."
+
+"Yes, Florence is a sweet girl," assented her mother. "Mrs. Atherton is
+a sad invalid, and they are such devoted daughters. Edna, it is your day
+for writing to Neville, is it not? I want to send a message to Mrs.
+Sinclair; don't you think it would be a pretty attention if you were to
+write to her as well? She seems very poorly again."
+
+"I am not inclined to pay pretty attentions to any one this morning,"
+returned Edna, with a little laugh. "Bessie, can you amuse yourself
+while I do my duty to my _fiancé_? There are plenty of books in the
+morning-room, and a deliciously shady seat under that big tree."
+
+"Oh, that will be delightful," replied Bessie, to whom a book was a
+powerful attraction. She was some time making her selection from the
+well-filled bookcase, but at last fixed on some poems by Jean Ingelow,
+and "The Village on the Cliff," by Miss Thackeray. Bessie had read few
+novels in her life; Dr. Lambert disliked circulating libraries for young
+people, and the only novels in the house were Sir Walter Scott's and
+Miss Austin's, while the girls' private book shelves boasted most of
+Miss Yonge's, and two or three of Miss Mulock's works. Bessie had read
+"Elizabeth," by Miss Thackeray, at her Aunt Charlotte's house, and the
+charming style, the pure diction, the picturesque descriptions, and the
+beauty and pathos of the story made her long to read another by the same
+author. As Bessie retraced her steps through the hall Mac raised himself
+up slowly, and followed her out, and in another moment Spot and Tim flew
+through a side door and joined her.
+
+Bessie never passed a pleasanter morning; her tale enthralled her, but
+she laid down her book occasionally to notice her dumb companions. A
+white Persian kitten had joined the group; she was evidently accustomed
+to the dogs, for she let Tim roll her over in his rough play, and only
+boxed his ears in return, now and then. When he got too excited, she
+scrambled up a may-tree, and sat licking herself in placid triumph,
+while the terriers barked below. Bessie was almost sorry when the quiet
+was invaded by Edna. Edna, who never opened a book, by her own
+confession, unless it were an exciting novel, looked a little
+disdainfully at the book Bessie had chosen.
+
+"Oh, that old thing!" she said contemptuously; "that is not much of a
+story; it is about a Breton peasant, is it not? Reine, I think she was
+called. Oh, it was amusing enough, but I prefer something more
+thrilling."
+
+"I think it lovely," returned Bessie. "It is all so sweet and sunshiny;
+one can smell the flowers in that studio, and the two Catherines, one so
+happy and charming, and the other so pathetic. All the people are so
+nice and good, they seem alive somehow. In other books there are wicked
+people, and that troubles me."
+
+"You would not like the sort of books I read;" returned Edna, shrugging
+her shoulders. "There was a murder in the last; I could hardly sleep
+after it--some one thrown out of a train. Oh, it was deliciously
+horrible! I have not sent it back to Mudie; you can read it if you
+like."
+
+"No, thank you," returned Bessie quietly; "it would not suit me at all.
+Father is very particular about what we read, and mother, too; he will
+not let us touch what he calls 'the sensational literature of the
+day'--oh, you may laugh," as Edna looked amused; "but I think father is
+right. He says it makes him quite unhappy to see books of this
+description in the hands of mere children. He is a doctor, you know, and
+he declares that a great deal of harm is done by overstimulating the
+imagination by highly wrought fiction. 'A meal of horrors can nourish no
+one,' he would say."
+
+Edna chose to dispute this point, and a long and lively argument ensued
+between the girls until the luncheon bell silenced them.
+
+Richard did not appear at this meal; he was taking his bread and cheese
+under the hedge with the haymakers, Edna explained, or in other words,
+he had desired his luncheon to be sent to him.
+
+"He does not favor us much with his company, as you will soon see for
+yourself, Miss Lambert. My stepson is not a society man," observed Mrs.
+Sefton.
+
+"So much the better," was on Bessie's lips, but she prudently refrained
+from speaking the words. She was beginning to wonder, however, if Mrs.
+Sefton or Edna could mention his name without adding something
+disparaging. Edna especially was forever indulging in some light sarcasm
+at her brother's expense.
+
+They sat in the cool drawing-room a little while after luncheon, until
+the Athertons arrived with their rackets; and then they all went down to
+the tennis lawn.
+
+The Atherton's were nice-looking girls, and Bessie was rather taken with
+them, but she was somewhat surprised when they opened their lips. She
+was walking across the grass with Florence, the tallest and prettiest of
+the sisters, and, indeed, she was rather a sweet-looking girl.
+
+"Is it not a lovely day?" observed Bessie.
+
+"Awfully jolly," replied Miss Florence, in a sharp, clipping voice; and
+the next minute Bessie heard her call one of her sisters a duffer for
+missing the ball.
+
+"What would mother say?" thought Bessie. She was not much used to the
+typical girl of the period; after all, she was an old-fashioned little
+person.
+
+The Athertons were really nice girls, although they talked slang like
+their brothers, and conformed to all the foolish fashions of the day,
+disguising their honest, womanly hearts under blunt, flippant manners.
+
+"What a pity," said Bessie to herself, when she came to know them
+better. They were good-natured, clever girls, very fond of each other,
+and devoted to their mother and brothers. Reggie's examination--exam.,
+Florence called it--for Sandhurst; Harold's new coach, and Bertie's
+score at cricket, were the theme of their conversation. "I am afraid
+Harold won't pass," observed Sabina sadly. "His last coach was such a
+muff, but the man he has got now seems a good old sort. Harold can
+get on with him comfortably."
+
+"Well, what do you think of the girls?" asked Edna, when she and Bessie
+were left alone at the close of the afternoon.
+
+"I think they are very nice, Florence especially, but it is such a pity
+that they talk slang; it seems to spoil them, somehow."
+
+"I agree with you that it is bad style, but, you see, they have learned
+it from their brothers."
+
+Bad style, that was all. Bessie's gentle-looking mouth closed firmly
+with the expression it always wore when politeness forbade her to air
+her true opinions, but in her own heart she was saying:
+
+"Bad style. That is how worldly minded people talk. That is how they
+palliate these sins against good taste and propriety. I like these
+girls; they are genuine, somehow; but I suppose our bringing up has made
+us old-fashioned, for I seemed to shrink inwardly every time they opened
+their lips. Surely it must be wrong to lose all feminine refinement in
+one's language. There were no young men here, happily, to hear them; but
+if there had been, they would have expressed themselves in the same
+manner. That is what I cannot understand, now girls can lay aside their
+dignity and borrow masculine fashions. What a little lady Christine
+would have seemed beside them! Chrissy has such pretty manners."
+
+The dinner hour passed more pleasantly than on the previous evening.
+Richard talked more, and seemed tolerably at his ease. He followed them
+into the drawing-room afterward, and asked his sister to sing, but, to
+Bessie's vexation, Edna declined under the pretext of fatigue, and could
+not be induced to open the piano. Bessie felt provoked by her
+wilfulness, and she was so sorry to see the cloud on Richard's face, for
+he was passionately fond of music, as he had informed Bessie at
+dinner-time, that she ventured to remonstrate with Edna.
+
+"Do sing a little, just to please your brother; he looks so
+disappointed, and you know you are not a bit tired." But Edna shook her
+head, and her pretty face looked a little hard.
+
+"I do not wish to please him; it is just because he has asked me that I
+will not sing a note this evening. I intend to punish Richard for his
+rudeness to me. I begged him to stay home for our garden party
+to-morrow; but no, he will not give up his stupid cricket. He says he is
+captain, and must be with his boys; but that is all nonsense; he does it
+to spite me."
+
+"Oh, very well," returned Bessie good-humoredly, for she would not
+quarrel with Edna for her perversity. "If you mean to be so obdurate, I
+will sing myself." And Bessie actually walked across the room and
+addressed Richard, who was moodily turning over his sister's music.
+
+"Edna does not feel inclined to sing to-night, but if you can put up
+with my deficiencies, I will try what I can do. My music is rather
+old-fashioned, but I know one or two pretty ballads, if you care to hear
+them."
+
+"Thanks; I should like it very much," was all Richard said, as he opened
+the piano; but his face cleared like magic. It was not the song he
+wanted, but that some one should care to please him. All his life long
+this had been his longing; and the cold indifference with which his
+expressed wishes had always been met by his mother and Edna had chilled
+his affectionate nature. Bessie had a pretty voice, though it showed
+want of training, but she could sing a simple ballad with much sweetness
+and feeling, and Richard, who had a fine ear for music, avowed himself
+much pleased.
+
+"You ought to have some good lessons," he said frankly. "Your voice has
+great capabilities, but it has not been properly trained. I hope you do
+not think my criticism rude."
+
+"No, indeed; I am too much aware of my own faults. I have only had a few
+lessons. Miss James was not much of a teacher, but I cannot help
+singing somehow. Now, have I tired you, or do you want another song?"
+
+"I want more than one," returned Richard, growing bold. Bessie's
+readiness to please, her good-humored reception of his criticism,
+charmed him. She was so amiable, so willing to be friendly; she was so
+different from the other girls who came to The Grange. Richard had no
+patience with them; their airs and graces, their evident desire for
+masculine admiration disgusted and repelled him. They seemed always
+seeking for him to pay them little compliments and attentions, and in
+his heart he despised them.
+
+"Thank you, my dear," observed Mrs. Sefton graciously, when Bessie had
+finished. "She sings very nicely, does she not, Edna?"
+
+"Charmingly," replied Edna; but her smile was hardly as pleased as
+usual, and she bade Bessie a somewhat cold good-night when they parted
+an hour later.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+EDNA HAS A GRIEVANCE.
+
+
+Bessie did not concern herself much about her friend's coldness. She had
+tried to atone to Richard for his sister's unkindness, and she had
+succeeded in giving one person pleasure.
+
+"I dare say her conscience tells her that she has been naughty, and that
+makes her cross with me," thought Bessie, who was too healthy minded to
+harbor unnecessary scruples.
+
+Hatty would have made herself wretched under the circumstances; would
+have accused herself of boldness, and love of display, and a want of
+consideration for Edna; for Hatty, who was a self-tormentor by nature,
+could spin a whole web of worries out of a single thread; but Bessie
+never troubled herself with morbid after-thoughts. "Edna will be all
+right with me to-morrow," she said to herself; and she was right in her
+prognostication.
+
+Edna came downstairs the next morning radiant with good humor, and was
+even civil to Richard. It was a brilliant day; her friends had all
+accepted her invitation, and she was looking forward to a most enjoyable
+afternoon.
+
+It was impossible for Bessie to resist the influence of her friend's
+gayety and flow of spirits. Edna's example was infectious, and Bessie
+was soon laughing heartily at her nonsensical speeches. There was no
+quiet for reading that morning. She had to practice tennis with Edna,
+and help her arrange the flowers; and finally she was carried off to be
+made smart.
+
+"I wish you had a white dress, too," observed Edna regretfully; for in
+her heart she thought Bessie's favorite gray gown very dowdy and
+Quakerish. "But we must try to enliven you with a few flowers. You are
+going to wear a gray hat. Wait a moment." And Edna darted out of the
+room, and returned a moment afterward with a dainty cream lace fichu.
+"Look, this lace is lovely! Mamma gave it to me, but I never wear it
+now, and it will just suit you. Now let me fasten in a few of those
+creamy roses. Well, you do look nice after all, Daisy dear."
+
+"Yes; but not half so nice as you," replied Bessie, looking with honest
+admiration at the pretty young creature. Edna's soft white dress just
+suited her fair hair and delicate complexion, and she looked so slim and
+graceful, as she stood before the glass fastening a rosebud at her
+throat, that Bessie said, involuntarily, "How nice it must be to be so
+pretty!" but there was no trace of envy in her tone.
+
+Edna blushed a little over the compliment.
+
+"Do I look pretty? Thank you, Bessie. Isn't it a pity Neville cannot see
+me?" and she laughed mischievously over her vain speech. "Now, come
+along, there's a dear, or the people will arrive before we are ready for
+them. There, I declare I hear Florence's voice!" And the two girls ran
+down and joined Mrs. Sefton in the drawing-room.
+
+Well, it was a very pleasant garden party, and Bessie thoroughly enjoyed
+herself, though it was the grandest affair she had ever seen--so many
+people driving up in their carriages, and such smart footmen lingering
+in the hall, and a bevy of officers who were quartered in the
+neighborhood. But Bessie was not left out in the cold. Florence Atherton
+took her under her wing, and introduced some nice people to her. She
+even took part in one game when there was a vacancy, and her partner, a
+young lieutenant, was very good-natured, and only laughed when she
+missed the ball.
+
+"We have won, after all, you see," he observed, when the match was over.
+
+"Yes, thanks to you," replied Bessie honestly.
+
+"Not at all. You played very well. Now shall we go and get an ice? I
+wonder what's become of Sefton? I don't see him anywhere."
+
+"Oh, he is playing cricket at Melton. He is captain of the village club,
+I believe. I don't think he cares for tennis."
+
+"I suppose not," was the dry rejoinder; but the young man slightly
+elevated his eyebrows in a meaning manner. Bessie heard other remarks on
+Richard's absence before the end of the afternoon. A young lady to whom
+she had been recently introduced addressed the same question to her.
+
+"Mr. Sefton is not putting in an appearance this afternoon, Miss
+Lambert."
+
+"No, I believe not; he is otherwise engaged."
+
+"It is very odd," replied Miss Green significantly; "but Mr. Sefton
+always is engaged when his sister gives one of her parties. I am told he
+hates society, and that sort of thing. Isn't it a pity that he should be
+so different from Edna? She is a darling, and so charming, but her
+brother--" and here Miss Green shrugged her shoulders, and her keen
+black eyes seemed to demand Bessie's opinion; but Bessie made no
+rejoinder. She was not much prepossessed with Miss Green, and left her
+as soon as politeness allowed her, to sit with an old lady who was very
+chatty and amusing, and who called her "my dear" at every word.
+
+It was no use trying to speak to Edna; she was always surrounded by a
+group of young people. Once or twice the thought crossed Bessie's mind,
+how Mr. Sinclair would like to see her laughing and talking so long
+with that handsome Captain Grant. She was not exactly flirting--Bessie
+would not do her that injustice--but she allowed him to pay her a great
+deal of attention. It struck her that Mrs. Sefton was uneasy, for she
+called her to her side once.
+
+"My dear Miss Lambert, I cannot attract Edna's attention, and I want to
+speak to her particularly; she is somewhere in the shrubberies with that
+tall man with the dark mustache--Captain Grant. I spoke to her as she
+passed just now, but neither of them heard me."
+
+"Shall I go and fetch her, Mrs. Sefton?"
+
+"I shall be very glad if you will do so, my dear." And Bessie at once
+started in pursuit. She overtook them by the summer-house. Edna looked
+rather bored as she received her mother's message, though she at once
+obeyed it; but Captain Grant kept his place at her side.
+
+Mrs. Sefton received him rather coldly.
+
+"Edna," she said, addressing her daughter, "I want to speak to you about
+the Mackenzie's; they are sitting quite alone, and no one is talking to
+them; and that tall brother of their's has not played a single game."
+
+"That is his own fault. I offered him Marian Atherton for a partner ages
+ago, but he plays badly; as for the girls, they keep aloof from
+everybody. I introduced Mr. Sayers and Major Sparkes to them, but they
+have evidently frightened them away. Mamma, are we engaged for Thursday?
+because Captain Grant wants us to go and see the officers play polo."
+
+"That is the day I am going up to town, Edna."
+
+"But you can put it off," she interposed eagerly. "It will be such fun.
+Mrs. Grant is to give us tea, and it will be such a treat for Bessie."
+
+"My mother is counting upon the pleasure of seeing you all, Mrs. Sefton.
+She has been unable to call, but she is hoping to make your acquaintance
+in this way."
+
+"She is very kind, Captain Grant," returned Mrs. Sefton stiffly; "but
+unfortunately, as my daughter knows, I have a very important engagement
+for that day."
+
+"I am extremely sorry to hear it; still, if the young ladies care to
+drive over, my mother will chaperone them," persisted Captain Grant; "or
+perhaps their brother."
+
+"Oh, of course! I forgot Richard," exclaimed Edna, disregarding her
+mother's evident objections.
+
+Mrs. Sefton looked annoyed, but she said civilly:
+
+"I will see what Richard thinks; but you must not take anything for
+granted, Edna, until I have spoken to him."
+
+"Oh, I will tease him into taking us," returned Edna gayly. "I do love
+polo, and I am sure Bessie will be delighted. Now we must start another
+game, Captain Grant." And before her mother could interpose Edna had
+crossed the lawn with him.
+
+"Shall you be very disappointed if you do not see polo, Miss Lambert?"
+asked Mrs. Sefton presently.
+
+"No, indeed. But I am afraid Edna will be; she seems to have set her
+heart on going."
+
+"Richard will not take her," returned Mrs. Sefton; "he has a strong
+objection to Captain Grant; and I must own I think he is right. He is
+very handsome, but he has not a straightforward look. I have no wish to
+see him intimate here. He is forward and pushing, and does not take a
+rebuff. But Edna does not agree with me," with a quick, impatient sigh.
+
+Captain Grant's unfortunate invitation entirely marred the harmony of
+the evening. Directly the guests had left, the family sat down to a cold
+collation, instead of a regular dinner. Richard had only just come in
+and taken his place, declaring that he was as hungry as a hunter, when
+Edna informed him of their plans for Thursday.
+
+"Mamma has to go up to town, so she cannot possibly go with us, and the
+carriage will have to fetch her from the station, so you must drive us
+over to Staplehurst in your dog-cart, Ritchie. I dare say Bessie will
+think that fun."
+
+Richard glanced uneasily at his stepmother before he answered, as
+though he wished for her opinion, and she gave him a significant look.
+
+"I am very sorry, Edna, but I am afraid it is impossible. I have to go
+over to Fordham on business, and I cannot possibly be back until six."
+
+"On some stupid farming business, I suppose," returned Edna, and it was
+evident her temper could ill brook the contradiction. Her color rose,
+and there was an ominous sparkle in her eye; but Richard answered
+composedly:
+
+"Yes; I have to meet Medway and Stephenson. I am sorry to disappoint you
+and Miss Lambert but Thursday is never a free day with me."
+
+"No, indeed, nor any other day of the week when I want you to do
+anything," returned Edna, with rising excitement. "Now don't make any
+more excuses, Richard. Do you think I am a child to believe in your
+Medways and Stephensons? I saw you look at mamma before you answered,
+and you think she does not wish me to go."
+
+"My darling, why need you excite yourself so?" exclaimed Mrs. Sefton.
+
+"It is you that excite me, mamma, you and Richard. You have got some
+foolish notion in your heads about Captain Grant, just because the poor
+man is civil to me. You treat me, both of you, as though I were a
+baby--as though I could not be trusted to take care of myself. It is
+very unjust," continued Edna, "and I will not bear it from Richard."
+
+"I confess I don't see the gist of your remarks," returned her brother,
+who was now growing angry in his turn; "and I don't think all this can
+be very amusing to Miss Lambert. If my mother has an objection to your
+keeping up an acquaintance with Captain Grant, it is your duty to give
+the thing up. In my opinion she is right; he is not the sort of friend
+for you, Edna, and his mother is disliked by all the officers' wives. I
+should think Sinclair would have a right to object to your frequent
+visits to Staplehurst."
+
+But Edna was in no mood to listen to reason.
+
+"Neville knows better than to state his objections to me," she returned
+haughtily; "and it is quite unnecessary to drag his name into the
+present conversation. I will only trouble you to answer me one question:
+Do you absolutely refuse to do me this favor, to drive Miss Lambert and
+me over to Staplehurst on Thursday?"
+
+"I must refuse," returned Richard firmly. "It is quite true that my
+engagement can be put off, but it is so evident that my mother objects
+to the whole thing, that I will not be a party to your disobeying her
+wishes."
+
+Edna rose from the table and made him a profound courtesy. "Thank you
+for your moral lecture, Richard; but it is quite thrown away. I am not
+going to be controlled like a child. If you will not take us, Bessie and
+I will go alone. I quite mean it, mamma." And Edna marched angrily out
+of the room.
+
+"Oh, dear," observed Mrs. Sefton fretfully; "I have not seen her so put
+out for months; it must have been your manner, Richard. You were so hard
+on the poor child. Now she will go and make herself ill with crying."
+
+"Did I misunderstand you?" asked Richard, astonished at this. "Did you
+wish me to take them, after all?"
+
+"Of course not; what an absurd question! I would not have Edna go for
+worlds. Neville only said the other day how much he disliked the Grants,
+and how he hoped Edna kept them at a distance. I think he has heard
+something to Captain Grant's disadvantage; but you know how wilful she
+is; you might have carried your point with a little tact and _finesse_,
+but you are always so clumsy with Edna."
+
+"You did not help me much," returned Richard rather bitterly. "You left
+me to bear the brunt of Edna's temper, as usual. Why did you not tell
+her yourself your reasons for disliking her to go? But, no; I am to be
+the scapegoat, as usual, and Edna will not speak to me for a week." And
+so saying he pushed his chair away and walked to the window.
+
+Mrs. Sefton did not answer her stepson. Most likely her conscience told
+her that his reproach was a just one. She only glanced at Bessie's
+grieved face and downcast eyes, and proposed to retire.
+
+The drawing-room was empty when they entered it, and as Bessie noticed
+Mrs. Sefton's wistful look round the room, she said timidly:
+
+"May I go and talk to Edna?"
+
+"No, my dear; far better not," was the reply. "Edna has a hot temper;
+she takes after her poor father in that. We must give her time to cool.
+I will go to her myself presently. She was very wrong to answer Richard
+in that way, but he has so little tact."
+
+Bessie did not trust herself to reply. She took her book to the window,
+that her hostess might not find it incumbent on her to talk, and in a
+short time Mrs. Sefton left the room. Richard entered it a moment later.
+
+"Are you alone?" he asked, in some surprise. "I suppose my mother has
+gone up to Edna?"
+
+"Yes; she is uneasy about her. Shall I play to you a little, Mr. Sefton?
+It is getting too dark to read." Bessie made this overture as a sort of
+amends to Richard, and the friendly little act seemed to soothe him.
+
+"You are very kind. I should like it of all things," he returned
+gratefully. So Bessie sat down and played her simple tunes and sung her
+little songs until the young man's perturbed spirits were calmed and
+quieted by the pure tones of the girlish voice; and presently when she
+paused for a minute, he said:
+
+"It is awfully good of you to take all this trouble for me."
+
+"Oh, no, it is not," replied Bessie, smiling. "I like singing; besides,
+you are feeling dull this evening; your talk with your sister has upset
+you."
+
+"No one ever noticed before if I were dull or not," he replied, with a
+sigh; "but I am afraid that sounds ungracious. I think we owe you an
+apology, Miss Lambert, for airing our family disagreements in your
+presence. I am more sorry than I can say that you should have been
+subjected to this unpleasantness."
+
+"Oh, never mind me," returned Bessie cheerfully. "I am only sorry for
+all of you. I dare say Edna did not mean half she said; people say all
+sorts of things when they are angry. I am afraid she is bitterly
+disappointed. I have heard her say before how fond she is of watching
+polo; but I dare say she will soon forget all about it."
+
+"I cannot flatter myself with that belief. Edna does not so easily
+forget when her whims are crossed. I dare say she will send me to
+Coventry all the week; but I can't help that. Nothing would induce me to
+drive her over to Staplehurst, and she will hardly carry out her threat
+of going without me."
+
+"Of course not," and Bessie fairly laughed.
+
+"No, it was an idle threat; but all the same it is very vexatious." But
+Bessie would not let him dwell on the grievance. She began telling him
+about Tom, and a funny scrape he had got into last term; and this led to
+a conversation about her home, and here Bessie grew eloquent; and she
+was in the midst of a description of Cliffe and its environs when Mrs.
+Sefton reappeared, looking fagged and weary, and informed them that Edna
+had a headache and had retired to bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE FIRST SUNDAY AT THE GRANGE.
+
+
+The unfortunate dispute between Edna and her brother had taken place on
+Saturday evening, and as Bessie went up to her room that night she made
+up her mind that the first Sunday at Oatlands would be a failure, as far
+as enjoyment was concerned.
+
+"I never can be happy myself unless I see others happy round me,"
+thought Bessie, rather mournfully; "and Edna has taken this
+disappointment so badly that I am afraid she will make us all suffer for
+it." But in this opinion she was wrong. Her acquaintance with Edna had
+been brief, and she had no suspicion of the intense pride that blended
+with Edna's wilfulness, nor of the tenacity, strange in such a bright
+young creature, that could quietly maintain its purpose under a
+careless, light-hearted exterior.
+
+Edna had evidently been ashamed of her outburst of temper on the
+previous evening, for she came down on Sunday morning looking a little
+pale and subdued, and very gentle in her manner to her mother and
+Bessie. She seemed to ignore Richard; beyond a cold good morning she
+did not vouchsafe him a word or a look; and as all his overtures toward
+reconciliation were passed over in chilling silence, he soon left her to
+herself.
+
+They all went to church together, and as they walked through the lanes
+Edna seemed to recover her buoyancy. She laughed and chatted with her
+mother, and made sprightly speeches in her usual way; and no one could
+have judged from her manner that there was a spot of bitterness under
+the smooth surface--an angry consciousness that Richard had dared to
+cross her will.
+
+Ah, well! there are many beside Edna who enter God's house with their
+darling sin hugged close to their bosom, fondled and cherished. Truly we
+may say we are miserable sinners, and that there is no health in us, for
+the black plague spot is often hidden under the white vesture,
+undetected by human insight, but clearly legible to the "Eye that seeth
+not as man seeth."
+
+Once Bessie looked up from her hymn-book as Edna's clear, high notes
+reached her ear. Edna seemed singing with all her heart:
+
+    "Oh, Paradise! Oh, Paradise!
+     Who does not crave for rest?"
+
+Her brown eyes were soft with feeling, there was a sweet, almost
+angelic look upon her face; a passing emotion possessed her. Alas, that
+such moods should be transitory! And yet it has ever been so in the
+world's history. Unsanctified human nature is always fickle, and the
+"Hosanna" of yesterday become the "Crucify Him" of to-day.
+
+After their early luncheon, Edna asked Bessie if she would go with her
+to see the Athertons.
+
+"Mamma indulges in a nap on Sunday afternoons," she explained, "and as I
+am not fond of my own company, I run in and have a chat with the girls."
+
+"If you would excuse me," returned Bessie, looking rather uncomfortable,
+"I would so much rather stay at home. You see, I have been accustomed to
+spend Sunday very quietly. We have never paid visits as some people do.
+Church and Sunday-school and a little sacred music and reading, and the
+day soon passes. If you do not mind, I would rather sit in the garden,
+or take a stroll through those lovely lanes, than go to the Athertons'."
+
+Edna looked exceedingly amused at this speech, and at Bessie's hot
+cheeks.
+
+"My dear Daisy, don't look so perturbed. This is Liberty Hall, and our
+guests always do exactly as they please. I would not interfere with your
+little prudish ways for the world. I do not require your company in the
+least. You may retire to your own room and read the 'Pilgrim's
+Progress,' with the blinds down, if you please, and mamma and I will not
+say a word. There's Blair's 'Sermons' in the attic, and Hervey's
+'Meditations Among the Tombs.' They are a bit dusty, perhaps, but you
+won't object to that, for they are full of wholesome and cheerful
+reading."
+
+"Thank you," returned Bessie, undisturbed by this light banter. "But I
+brought a book from home, in which I am much interested--'Bishop
+Hannington's Life'--and as you are so good as to spare me, I mean to
+explore some of those shady lanes; they are so nice and quiet."
+
+Edna was about to make another mischievous rejoinder, but as she looked
+at Bessie she refrained. Bessie's contented, gentle expression, the
+quiet dignity that seemed to invest her girlishness, closed Edna's
+mouth.
+
+"She is a good little thing, and I won't tease her," she thought. And
+she refrained with much magnanimity from one of her droll speeches when
+Maud Atherton asked where Miss Lambert was.
+
+"She preferred taking a walk," returned Edna; which was the truth, but
+not the whole truth, for, as she said to herself, "those girls shall not
+have the chance of laughing at my dear little Bessie." And she cleverly
+changed the conversation to a safer topic; for she was quite a
+diplomatist in her small way.
+
+"Edna is really very good-natured," thought Bessie gratefully, as she
+sauntered happily through the leafy lanes.
+
+How delicious the air felt! It was June, and yet there was still the
+crispness of the spring. She felt as though she and the birds had this
+beautiful world to themselves, and the twitterings and rustlings in the
+thicket were the only sounds that broke the Sabbath stillness.
+
+Bessie had just turned into a sunny bit of road when an abject-looking
+white dog with a black patch over his eye suddenly wriggled himself
+through a half-closed gate.
+
+"Why, I do believe that is Bill Sykes," thought Bessie, as the creature
+stood looking at her. "Bill, what are you doing so far from home?" Bill
+wagged his tail feebly in a deprecating manner. "Why don't you walk like
+a gentleman?" continued Bessie, and, to her great amusement, the dog
+rose solemnly on his hind legs and commenced stalking down the lane.
+Bessie burst into a laugh that was echoed by another voice.
+
+"Well done, old Bill." And, looking up, Bessie saw Richard Sefton
+leaning on the gate, with his dogs round him. "Don't move, Miss
+Lambert," he continued hastily; "stand where you are till I join you."
+And as Bessie looked rather surprised at this peremptory speech, he
+walked quickly to her side and put his hand on her shoulder. "A friend,
+Leo. Excuse my unceremoniousness, Miss Lambert, but Leo needs an
+introduction;" and at his words a huge mastiff, who had been eyeing
+Bessie in a dubious manner, walked quietly up to her.
+
+"Will it be safe for me to pat him?" asked Bessie, as she looked at the
+big tawny head and heavy jowl of the magnificent beast; but the brown
+sunken eyes had a friendly expression in them.
+
+"Oh, yes, Leo will be as quiet as a lamb; and what is more, he will
+never forget you. You may go within the reach of his chain any day, and
+he will behave to you like a gentleman. Leo is an aristocrat, and never
+forgets _noblesse oblige_."
+
+"He is a splendid animal," returned Bessie; and then she noticed the
+other dogs. They were all there: Gelert and Brand, and Juno and her
+puppies, and Spot and Tim.
+
+"We have been for a long walk," observed Richard, as they turned their
+faces homeward. "The dogs have been wild with spirits, and I had some
+difficulty with them at first. You see, they make the most of their
+weekly holiday."
+
+"What do you do on a wet Sunday?" asked Bessie curiously.
+
+"Well, I smoke a pipe with them in the stable, and so give them the
+pleasure of my company. I do hate disappointing dumb animals, Miss
+Lambert--they have their feelings as well as we have, and I think we
+ought to behave handsomely to them. I remember when I was quite a little
+fellow my mother taught me that."
+
+"Your mother!" in some surprise, for somehow Mrs. Sefton never gave
+Bessie the impression that her relations with Richard were of the
+motherly sort.
+
+"Oh, I mean my then mother," he returned hastily, as though answering
+her unspoken thought. "I was very young when she died, but I have never
+forgotten her. She was not a lady by birth, you know; only a farmer's or
+yeoman's daughter, but there is not a lady living who is prettier or
+sweeter than she was."
+
+"I am glad you feel like that to your mother," replied Bessie, in a
+sympathetic voice that seemed to ask for further confidence.
+
+Richard Sefton had never spoken of his mother to any one before. What
+could have drawn the beloved name from his lips? Was it this girl's
+soothing presence, or the stillness of the hour and the quiet beauty of
+the scene round him? Richard was impressionable by nature, and possibly
+each of these things influenced him. It was a new pleasure to speak to a
+kindly listener of the memories that lay hidden in his faithful heart.
+
+"Yes, and yet I was a mere child when I lost her," he went on, and
+there was a moved look on his face; "but I remember her as plainly as I
+see you now. She was so young and pretty--every one said so. I remember
+once, when I was lying in my little cot one night, too hot and feverish
+to sleep, that she came up to me in her white gown--it was made of some
+shining stuff, silk or satin--and she had a sparkling cross on her neck.
+I remember how it flashed in my eyes as she stooped to kiss me, and how
+she carried me to the window to look at the stars. 'Are they not bright,
+Ritchie?' she said; 'and beyond there is the great beautiful heaven,
+where my little boy will go some day;' and then she stood rocking me in
+her arms. I heard her say plainly, 'Oh, that I and my little child were
+there now!' And as she spoke something wet fell on my face. I have heard
+since that she was not happy--not as happy as she ought to have been,
+poor mother!"
+
+"And is that all you can remember?" asked Bessie gently.
+
+"Oh, no; I have many vague recollections of making daisy chains with my
+mother on the lawn; of a great yellow cowslip ball flung to me in the
+orchard; of a Sunday afternoon, when some pictures of Samuel, and David
+and Goliath, were shown me; and many other little incidents. Children do
+remember, whatever grown-up people say."
+
+"I think it would be terrible to lose one's mother, especially when one
+is a child," observed Bessie, in a feeling voice.
+
+"I have found it so, I assure you," replied Richard gravely. "My
+stepmother was young, and did not understand children--boys especially.
+I seemed somewhat in the way to every one but my father. A lonely
+childhood is a sad thing; no success nor happiness in after life seems
+to make up for it."
+
+"I understand what you mean; father always says children claim happiness
+as a right."
+
+"It is most certainly their prerogative; but I fear I am boring you with
+my reminiscences."
+
+"Not at all; you are giving me a great pleasure, Mr. Sefton. I do like
+knowing about people--their real selves, I mean, not their outside; it
+is so much more interesting than any book. I think, as a rule, people
+shut themselves up too much, and so they exclude light and sympathy."
+
+"One longs for sympathy sometimes," said Richard; but he turned away his
+face as he spoke.
+
+"Yes; every one needs it, and most of us get it," replied Bessie,
+feeling very sorry for the young man in her heart. He was too manly and
+too generous to complain openly of his stepmother's treatment, but
+Bessie understood it all as well as though he had spoken.
+
+"In a large family there is no complaint to be made on this score. When
+I have a grievance there is always mother or Hatty, or Christine and
+father. We take all our big things to father. Oh, at home, no one is
+left out in the cold."
+
+"I think your home must be a happy one, Miss Lambert--but here we are at
+The Grange. I must bid you good-bye for the present, for I have an
+errand in the village."
+
+But Richard did not explain that his errand was to sit with a crippled
+lad, whose life of suffering debarred him from all pleasure. If there
+were one person in the world whom Bob Rollton adored it was "the young
+squire."
+
+"He is a real gentleman, he is," Bob would say; "and not one of your
+make-believe gentry. It is all along of him and Spot and the little 'un,
+Tim, that I don't hate Sundays; but he comes reg'lar, does the squire;
+and he brings some rare good books with him; and Tim curls himself up on
+my blanket, and Spot sits on the window-sill, making believe to listen,
+and we have a good old time."
+
+Other people beside Bob could have cited instances of the young squire's
+thoughtfulness and active benevolence; but Richard Sefton was one who
+did good by stealth, and almost as though he were ashamed of it, and
+neither his stepmother nor Edna guessed how much he was beloved in the
+village.
+
+Mrs. Sefton was one of those people who never believed in virtue, unless
+it had the special hall-mark that conventionality stamps upon it, and
+Richard's simple charities, his small self-denials, would have appeared
+despicable in her eyes. She herself gave largely to the poor at
+Christmas; blankets and clothing by the bale found their way to the East
+End. The vicar of Melton called her "The benevolent Mrs. Sefton," but
+she and Edna never entered a cottage, never sat beside a sick bed, nor
+smoothed a dying pillow. Edna would have been horrified at such a
+suggestion. What had her bright youth to do with disease, dirt and
+misery? "Don't tell me about it," was her usual cry, when any one
+volunteered to relate some piteous story. That such things should be
+allowed in a world governed by a merciful Providence was incredible,
+terrible, but that she should be brought into contact with it was an
+offence to her ladylike judgment.
+
+Many a girl has thought like Edna Sefton, and yet a royal princess could
+enter a squalid cottage, and take the starving babe to her bosom; and
+from that day to this Princess Alice has been a type of loving
+womanhood.
+
+Edna had not returned from the Athertons when Bessie entered the house,
+so she went alone to the evening service. As the service was at
+half-past six, an informal meal was served at a quarter past eight, to
+allow the servants to attend church. Bessie was rather surprised at this
+mark of thoughtfulness, but she found out afterward that Richard had
+induced his stepmother, with some difficulty, to give up the ceremonious
+late dinner. She urged as an objection that neither she nor Edna ever
+attended the evening service; but he overruled this, and carried his
+point.
+
+Just before service commenced, Bessie was surprised to see him enter the
+church. She had no idea that he would come, but he told her afterward
+that it was his usual practice.
+
+Just as they were starting for the homeward walk they were joined by a
+cousin of the Athertons. Bessie had seen her the previous day. She was a
+fair, interesting-looking girl, dressed in deep mourning. Her name was
+Grace Donnerton. Richard seemed to know her well. He had evidently
+waited for her to overtake them, and they all walked on happily
+together.
+
+Bessie was much taken with her. She was the daughter of a clergyman, who
+had a large parish in Leeds, and she interested Bessie very much in her
+account of her own and her sister's work. They had lately lost their
+mother, and it was surprising to hear of the way in which these young
+creatures helped their father in his good work.
+
+"When any one is ill, we generally help in nursing them," Grace had
+said, quite simply. "There are so many of us that we can easily be
+spared, and we are so fond of our poor people. We have all attended
+ambulance lectures, and Lizzie, that is my eldest sister, is now
+training for a year at a hospital. She is very strong, and so fond of
+nursing, and she hopes to be very useful when she comes home. There are
+five of us, and we take turns in being papa's housekeeper. Emma, who is
+very clever, manages the mother's meeting, and the rest of us do
+district work."
+
+Bessie was so interested by all this that she was sorry when the walk
+drew to a close. After they had said good-bye to Miss Donnerton, Bessie
+said "What a nice girl! I am sure I should like to know more of her."
+
+"Yes; I knew she would be your sort; that is why I waited for her,"
+replied Richard, as he opened the gate.
+
+Bessie wondered over this speech as she ran up to her room. "My sort!
+what could he have meant by that?" she said to herself. "I only wish I
+were like Miss Donnerton, for I am sure she is sweet and good. Well, it
+has been a lovely day. I have not wished myself at home once. Now I must
+devote myself to Edna."
+
+Edna looked a little tired and bored, and Bessie did not find it easy
+to interest her. She appeared to be quite indifferent to Miss
+Donnerton's merits.
+
+"Oh, Grace! so you like her, do you? Well, I must confess she is too
+good for me. I never found her say anything interesting yet, but then I
+did not talk to her about poor people," and Edna sneered slightly in a
+ladylike way. "I think all the girls were relieved when she went to
+church, for we could not get her to talk about anything."
+
+Yes, Edna was decidedly impracticable that evening. She would not be
+induced to play or sing; she was not in the humor for sacred music; no,
+she did not want to read; and everything was slow and stupid.
+
+Bessie coaxed her into the garden at last, and the soft evening air
+refreshed her in spite of herself.
+
+"Don't you ever feel _ennuyée_ and horrid?" she asked, in a sort of
+apologetic manner, presently.
+
+"Oh, yes, I suppose so; at least, I don't quite know what you mean,"
+returned Bessie; but she was not thinking of the question. The stars
+were glittering overhead, and Richard Sefton's words recurred to her.
+How clearly she could see it all! The little lonely boy in his cot, the
+young mother coming up to soothe him. She could picture her so plainly
+in the white shining gown and the sparkling cross, with the tears
+falling on the child's face. "Oh, that I and my little child were there
+now!" Oh, how sad it all sounded; and she had gone, and not taken the
+boy with her. "Poor Mr. Sefton!" thought Bessie, as she recalled the
+sad, quiet tones and the moved look on Richard's face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+WHITEFOOT IN REQUISITION.
+
+
+Three days after this Bessie wrote the following letter--it was
+commenced on Wednesday, and finished on Thursday morning:
+
+    "MY DEAR LITTLE HATTIE: It is your turn for a regular long
+    letter, as I have already written to mother and Christine. I
+    don't write to father because he is so busy, and letters bother
+    him; but you must tell him all the news. You cannot think how
+    Edna laughs at my correspondence; she always says it is such
+    waste of time; but you and I know better than that. It is just
+    the one thing that I can do for you all, now that I am away, and
+    I am not so selfish that I grudge an hour in the day. I know how
+    disappointed one face looks when there is no letter from Bessie
+    in the morning, and so I lay down my book and scribble away as I
+    am doing now.
+
+    "I am having a lovely time. I do not think I have ever played so
+    much in my life before. It is such a new thing, and yet it is
+    rather nice, too, to hear Edna say in the morning, 'Now, what
+    shall we do to-day?' as though one's whole duty were to amuse
+    one's self. Father always says, 'Whatever you do, do it
+    thoroughly,' and I am carrying out his maxim to the letter, for
+    I do nothing but enjoy myself, and I do it thoroughly. On
+    Monday I finished my letter to Crissy before breakfast, and
+    afterward, as Edna was busy, I spent a long morning reading 'The
+    Village on the Cliff.' I have finished it now, and think it
+    lovely. I do enjoy these mornings in the garden; but I must not
+    read too many stories, only Edna says I shall like 'Old
+    Kensington,' and I must indulge myself with that. I assure you
+    we make quite a picture. Mac lies at my feet, and Spot generally
+    curls himself up on my lap. Tim prefers lying on the lawn and
+    keeping an eye upon the kitten. She is such a droll little
+    creature, and her antics quite distract me.
+
+    "Well, I had this delicious morning to myself, and in the
+    afternoon we played tennis at the Athertons'. There were no
+    visitors, but we girls played by ourselves, and I had a long
+    talk with Grace Donnerton. I liked her better than ever; but
+    just as she was talking to me about her sister's hospital, Maud
+    Atherton disturbed us by telling us tea was ready.
+
+    "The next morning Edna drove me over to Kimberley--such a lovely
+    drive; and the ponies were so frisky and went so well. We called
+    at a beautiful old house, called Kimberley Hall--I never saw
+    such a place--and had luncheon there. Mrs. Blondell, our
+    hostess, is such a dear old lady, with pretty white curls, and
+    such a sweet old face. Her husband is such a handsome old man;
+    but he is quite deaf, and no one seems to make him hear anything
+    except his wife, and she goes up and speaks to him in a low,
+    distinct voice, and tells him things, and he brightens up at
+    once. He is such a courtly old man, and pays little
+    old-fashioned compliments. He took Edna's hand and said, 'We do
+    not often see a pretty young face, my dear, but it is a very
+    pleasant sight. I remember your mother when she was a girl, and
+    a fine, handsome creature she was. I think her daughter does her
+    credit, eh, Dolly?' And Dolly--that is the dear old lady's
+    name--put her pretty old hand on his arm, and said, 'She does
+    indeed, Rupert, and she has got a look of our Maisie about her;'
+    and then they looked at each other in such a way.
+
+    "Edna explained it to me as we drove home. She said they had one
+    child, a beautiful girl, who lived until she was seventeen, and
+    then died of some wasting disease. She had been dead fifteen
+    years, but the old couple had never got over her loss. 'I am
+    there often,' Edna went on, 'but I have never once been without
+    hearing Maisie's name mentioned; they are always talking about
+    her. One day Mrs. Blondell took me upstairs and showed me all
+    her things. There were her little gowns, most of them white,
+    folded in the big wardrobe. 'She was to have worn this at her
+    first ball,' said the poor woman, pulling down a lace dress; it
+    looked quite fresh somehow, only the satin slip was a trifle
+    discolored. There were the shoes, and the silk stockings, and a
+    case of pearls, and the long gloves. 'She would have looked
+    lovely in it,' she went on, smoothing out the folds with her
+    tremulous fingers. 'Rupert says she would have made hearts ache.
+    Thank you my dear, you are very kind,' for I could not help
+    hugging the dear old thing. It made me cry, too, to hear her.
+    'I go there very often because they like to see me; they will
+    have it I am like Maisie, but I am not half so pretty.' And
+    Edna laughed, though her eyes were moist, and touched up Jill
+    rather smartly.
+
+    "We had some people to dinner that evening, so Edna made me put
+    on my Indian muslin, which she said looked very nice. She wore a
+    soft white silk herself, which suited her admirably. She has
+    some beautiful dresses which she showed me; she says her mother
+    thinks nothing too good for her, and showers presents on her.
+    She gets tired of her dresses before they are half worn out. I
+    was half afraid she was going to offer me one, for she looked at
+    me rather wistfully, but I made a pretext to leave the room. I
+    enjoyed myself very much that evening. The curate took me in to
+    dinner, and I found him very clever and amusing, and he talked
+    so much that, though I was very hungry, I could hardly get
+    enough to eat; but Edna, who declared that she had had no dinner
+    either, brought me up a great plate of cake when we went to bed.
+    Edna sang beautifully that evening, and the curate--his name is
+    Horton--sung too, and Florence Atherton brought her violin. I
+    had never heard a lady play the violin before, but Edna tells me
+    I am old-fashioned, and that it is all the rage at present, and
+    certainly Miss Atherton played extremely well.
+
+    "Good-bye for the present, dear Hatty; I will add more
+    to-morrow. This is a sort of journal, you know, not a letter,
+    and I shall write a little bit each day.
+
+    "'Do be nice and lengthy,' you said, and I am sure I am carrying
+    out your wish."
+
+        "Thursday morning.
+
+    "Well, here I am again sitting at my writing-table, pen in hand,
+    and 'the top of the morning to ye, darlint,' as Biddy used to
+    say; but my Hatty will be still asleep, I know, as she is not
+    one of the strong ones, poor little Hatty! Such a wonderful
+    thing happened to me yesterday--I actually had a riding-lesson.
+    Do tell father that, for he knows how I used to envy Tom when
+    Colonel Miles gave him a mount. It happened in this way. Edna
+    was talking at breakfast time about her ride in the Row, and Mr.
+    Sefton said suddenly, 'How would you like to learn to ride, Miss
+    Lambert?' and not thinking he meant anything by the question, I
+    said, 'I should like it of all things. I do long for a good
+    gallop.'
+
+    "'Oh, you must not gallop before you trot,' he returned, quite
+    seriously; 'Edna, if you still have your old habit by you, I
+    don't see why I should not give Miss Lambert a lesson. Old
+    Whitefoot is doing nothing for her living.'
+
+    "Well--would you believe it?--he was quite in earnest, and Edna,
+    who is very good-natured, seemed to think it a good bit of fun,
+    for she jumped up from the table and told her brother to bring
+    Whitefoot round in half an hour; and then she made me go
+    upstairs with her and put on a beautiful blue habit, which
+    seemed to me quite new; but she said she had a much better one
+    made for her last season. It fitted me tolerably, and only
+    required a little alteration to be perfect--and I assure you I
+    hardly knew myself in it, I looked so nice; but a dark habit is
+    always so becoming. Edna looks like a picture in hers.
+
+    "Well, when we went downstairs, there was Whitefoot--such a
+    pretty brown mare--with Mr. Sefton standing beside her, and
+    Brown Bess was being brought round from the stable. I was just a
+    little nervous at first, but Mr. Sefton was very kind and
+    patient; he taught me how to gather up my reins, and how to hold
+    myself; and he would not mount for some time, but walked beside
+    me for a little distance, telling me things, and when he saw I
+    felt less strange he jumped on Brown Bess, and we had a canter
+    together.
+
+    "My dear Hatty, it was just delicious! I never felt happier in
+    my life. But Mr. Sefton would not let me ride long; he said I
+    should be very stiff at first, and that we should have a longer
+    ride to-morrow, when Edna would be with us; and of course I had
+    to submit.
+
+    "I was far too lazy to play tennis that afternoon, so Edna made
+    me get into the hammock, and I had a nice, quiet time with my
+    book, while she and the Athertons had their usual games, and bye
+    and bye Grace Donnerton came and sat by me, and we had another
+    nice talk.
+
+    "The next morning Edna said she would ride with us, so Mr.
+    Sefton ordered the horses directly after breakfast, and we had a
+    glorious ride for more than two hours. I found trotting rather
+    difficult at first, but Mr. Sefton would not let Edna laugh at
+    my awkwardness, and he encouraged me by telling me that I
+    should soon ride well, and after that I did not mind a bit. Edna
+    really rides perfectly; it was a pleasure to watch her. Once she
+    left us and had a tearing gallop by herself over the common. The
+    other horses got excited and wanted to gallop too, but Mr.
+    Sefton held Whitefoot's reins, and managed to quiet them both
+    with some difficulty. I thought Edna looked lovely as she rode
+    back to us; she had such a beautiful color, and her eyes looked
+    so bright I don't wonder people admire her so.
+
+    "Edna was going to an archery meeting that afternoon with the
+    Athertons, but as there was no room for me in their wagonette, I
+    stayed at home quietly with Mrs. Sefton, and managed to make
+    myself useful, for several people called, and I had to make tea
+    and help entertain them; but I got a quiet hour in my favorite
+    garden seat. Edna brought Florence and Maud Atherton back to
+    dinner, and we had a very merry evening, playing all sorts of
+    games. Mr. Sefton came into the drawing-room for a little while,
+    but he did not stay long. I think the girls quizzed him, and
+    made him uncomfortable. It is such a pity that he is not more at
+    his ease in society; people think he is stupid and cannot talk,
+    but he is really very intelligent, and knows a great deal about
+    a good many subjects. There is to be no ride to-morrow. Mrs.
+    Sefton is going up to town on business, and Edna is to accompany
+    her to the station, for, although Mr. Sefton suggested that I
+    should go out with him for an hour, I could see that they did
+    not second it.
+
+    "Now, darling, I have told you everything, and I think you will
+    own that I am having a good time. I hope all this pleasure is
+    not spoiling me, but I think of you all as much as ever, and
+    especially of my Hatty. Are you very dull without me, dear? And
+    how do you sleep? Write and tell me everything--how mother
+    looks, and what Tom said in his last letter, and if father is
+    busy. And if any of you want me very badly, you must say so, and
+    I will come home at once, though I do want some more rides, and
+    Edna has promised to drive me over to Kimberley again. But there
+    is the gong, and I must run down to breakfast. Good-bye, my
+    dearest Hatty.
+
+        "Your loving
+            "BESSIE."
+
+Bessie had written out of the fullness of her girlish content. She
+wanted to share her pleasure with Hatty. Happiness did not make her
+selfish, nor did new scenes and varied experiences shut out home
+memories, for Bessie was not one of those feeble natures who are carried
+out of themselves by every change of circumstances, neither had she the
+chameleon-like character that develops new tendencies under new
+influences; at The Grange she was just the same simple, kindly Bessie
+Lambert as she had been at Cliffe.
+
+After all, she was not disappointed of her ride. Jennings, the groom,
+had a commission to do at Leigh, and Richard proposed to his stepmother
+that Bessie should ride over there too. Jennings was an old servant, and
+very trusty and reliable, and she might be safely put in his charge. To
+this Mrs. Sefton made no objection, and Bessie had a delightful morning,
+and made good progress under Jennings' respectful hints. Bessie had just
+taken off her habit, and was preparing for luncheon, when Edna entered
+the room.
+
+"What dress are you going to wear this afternoon, Bessie?" she asked
+rather abruptly, and her manner was a little off-hand. "I shall be in
+white, of course, and I shall wear my gray dust cloak for the roads,
+but----"
+
+"What dress!" returned Bessie, rather puzzled at the question; she was
+hot and tired from her long ride, and had been looking forward to an
+afternoon of delicious idleness. "Is any one coming? I mean, are we
+going anywhere?"
+
+"Why, of course," replied Edna impatiently, and she did not seem in the
+best of tempers; "it is Thursday, is it not? and we are engaged for the
+polo match. You must make haste and finish dressing, for we must start
+directly after luncheon."
+
+"Do you mean that Mr. Sefton is going to drive us over to Staplehurst,
+after all?" asked Bessie, feeling very much astonished at Richard's
+change of plan; he had not even spoken on the subject at breakfast-time,
+but he must have arranged it afterward.
+
+"Richard!" rather contemptuously. "Richard is by this time lunching at
+the Fordham Inn, with half a dozen stupid farmers. Have you forgotten
+that he flatly refused to drive us at all? Oh, I have not forgotten his
+lecture, I assure you, though it does not seem to have made much
+impression on you. Well, why are you looking at me with such big eyes,
+Bessie, as though you found it difficult to understand me?"
+
+"Because I don't understand you Edna," replied Bessie frankly. "You know
+both your mother and brother objected to Captain Grant's invitation; you
+cannot surely intend to go in opposition to their wishes."
+
+"Their wishes! I suppose you mean Richard's wish, for mamma never opened
+her lips on the subject; she just listened to Richard's tirade."
+
+"But she did not contradict him; and surely you must have seen from her
+face that she agreed with every word." Bessie did not dare to add that
+Mrs. Sefton had expressed her strong disapproval of Captain Grant to
+her. "She was looking at you so anxiously all the time."
+
+"Oh, that is only mamma's fussiness. Of course I know she does not want
+me to go. I don't mean to pretend that I am not aware of that, but mamma
+knows that I generally have my own way in this sort of thing, and she
+did not actually forbid it."
+
+"Oh, Edna! what can that matter when you know her real wishes?"
+
+"My dear, don't preach; your words will not influence me in the least. I
+told Richard, before mamma, that I should go, and I mean to carry out my
+word. You are a free agent, Bessie; I cannot oblige you to go with me,
+but as the Athertons are all engaged, I could not get one of them in
+your place."
+
+"But if I say I cannot go, what will you do then?" asked Bessie
+anxiously.
+
+"In that case I should go alone," returned Edna coldly; "but I should
+think you were unkind to desert me."
+
+"I should have to bear that," replied Bessie rather sadly; "it is not
+what you would think of me, but what I ought to do. Oh, Edna, you are
+placing me in a very difficult position. I do not know how to act, and
+the whole thing distresses me so. Do give it up for my sake, and just to
+please me; do Edna, dear."
+
+"I cannot give it up," was Edna's answer; "but I will not argue any more
+about it. Make up your mind quickly, Bessie, for there is no time to
+lose." And so saying, she left the room, and a moment afterward Bessie
+heard her ringing for her maid.
+
+Bessie had never felt more distressed; she was so tired and so perplexed
+how to act, that she could almost have cried from worry. "If I go with
+her, will not Mrs. Sefton and Mr. Richard have a right to be offended
+with me?" she thought. "They will not know that I have tried to turn
+Edna from her purpose; they do not know me well enough to be sure of my
+motives. Edna told him that I wanted to see polo played; they may
+believe that I was willing to go. I cannot bear to put myself in this
+position; and yet, will it be right to let her go alone? Will they not
+blame me for that, too? Oh, how I wish I could speak to Mr. Sefton; but
+he is away. What shall I do? I must decide. It seems such a little thing
+to pray about, and yet little things bring big consequences. No, I can't
+moralize; I am too worried. Why can I not see the right thing to do at
+once?"
+
+Bessie sat and reflected a moment, and then a sudden impulse came to
+her, and she opened her blotting-case, and wrote a few hurried lines.
+
+"Dear Mrs. Sefton," she wrote, "I am so troubled, I hardly know what to
+do. Edna has just told me that she intends to drive over to Staplehurst
+after luncheon to see polo played, and has asked me to accompany her. I
+cannot induce her to give it up. Please do not think that I have not
+tried. I know how much you and Mr. Sefton were against it; but I do not
+think you would wish me to stay behind. She ought not to go alone. I
+feel you will be less anxious if I go with her." Bessie dashed off these
+few lines, and then dressed herself hurriedly; but before she had half
+finished the gong sounded.
+
+As she ran downstairs she met Dixon, the butler, coming out of the
+dining-room, and putting the note in his hand, begged that he would give
+it to his mistress directly she returned.
+
+"Certainly, ma'am," replied Dixon civilly; and it struck Bessie that he
+looked at her in an approving manner. He was an old servant, too, and
+most likely was accustomed to his young mistress' vagaries. "We expect
+my mistress home at six, and I will take care she gets the note," he
+continued, as he opened the door for her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+BESSIE SNUBS A HERO.
+
+
+"So you are going, after all?" was the only remark made by Edna, as she
+caught sight of Bessie's gray gown. "Well, be quick; I have nearly
+finished my luncheon. I thought you were never coming, and there was no
+time to lose."
+
+"I will not keep you waiting," returned Bessie, whose healthy young
+appetite failed her for once. "I am not hungry."
+
+"Nonsense?" said Edna, with restored good-humor. "You will find this
+mayonnaise excellent. You have had a long ride, and the drive to
+Staplehurst will take nearly an hour. We shall have a lovely afternoon
+for our expedition."
+
+Edna was chatting in her old lively fashion. She really looked
+exquisitely pretty this afternoon, and she seemed to take a delight in
+her own naughtiness. Her eyes sparkled mischievously every time she
+looked at Bessie's grave face. She was as frisky as a young colt who had
+just taken his bit between his teeth and had bolted. Her spirits seemed
+to rise during her long drive, and she talked and laughed without
+intermission.
+
+Bessie tried to respond and to make herself agreeable, but her efforts
+failed signally. She looked forward to the afternoon as a long martyrdom
+to be endured; the thought of Mrs. Sefton's and Richard's reproachful
+faces came between her and all enjoyment. Edna took no notice of her
+unusual gravity; she had gained her end, and obliged Bessie to bear her
+unwilling company, and so she was satisfied. It was almost a relief to
+Bessie when the drive was over, and they found themselves at
+Staplehurst.
+
+Polo was to be played in a large park-like meadow belonging to
+Staplehurst Hall. As they drove in at the gate, two or three of the
+officers who were to play were walking about in their bright silk
+jerseys, while their ponies followed them, led by their grooms. One came
+up at once, and greeted the young ladies.
+
+"I was on the lookout for you, Miss Sefton," he observed, with a smile
+that he evidently intended to be winning, but which Bessie thought was
+extremely disagreeable. "I knew you would not disappoint me, even if
+Sefton proved obdurate."
+
+"Richard had some stupid farming engagement," returned Edna, "so I
+brought Miss Lambert instead. Is your mother on the ground, Captain
+Grant?"
+
+"Yes; let me take you to her," he replied, with alacrity; but it was
+some time before Jack and Jill made their way to the central point where
+the ladies were sitting. Several of the officers joined Captain Grant,
+and there was quite a triumphal procession through the field. Edna sat
+like a little queen guiding her ponies, and distributing smiles and gay
+speeches. Admiration and pleasure were as the breath of life to her; she
+was at once peremptory and gracious; she looked down at her escort with
+a sort of benign amusement. When Captain Grant handed her out of the low
+chaise, she made her way through the ladies with the air of a princess.
+
+A tall, high-colored woman, with dark hair, and dressed in rather bad
+taste, held out her hand and welcomed her warmly.
+
+"My dear, I am so glad to see you; Jem told me you were sure to come. Is
+this Miss Lambert? Put those chairs closer, Jem. And so your mother
+could not come. Never mind; I am used to chaperoning young ladies,
+though I never had girls of my own."
+
+Edna answered civilly, but Bessie soon perceived that Mrs. Grant's
+conversation was not exactly to her taste. She spoke in a loud voice,
+and as most of her remarks were about her boy Jem, as she called him,
+his extraordinary cleverness and good luck at polo, and his merits as a
+son and officer, it was extremely desirable that they should not be
+overheard, but Mrs. Grant seemed quite indifferent to the amused looks
+of the ladies round her, and her broad, good-natured face beamed with
+smiles as Jem made a fine stroke and won the goal.
+
+"He rides better than any of the men," she exclaimed proudly. "I'll back
+my boy against any of them. Oh, look, Miss Sefton, Singleton has hit the
+ball away--no, Jem is galloping after him, he means to carry it.
+Yes--no--yes! they are through! Bravo, Jem, bravo!" and Mrs. Grant
+clapped her hands excitedly.
+
+In spite of her uneasiness, it was impossible for Bessie not to become
+first interested and then absorbed in the game, and for a little while
+she forgot all about The Grange. She had never seen polo played before,
+and she was carried away by the excitement of that fascinating but
+perilous game; the mad rush of the horses across the grass, the quick
+strokes of the players, the magnificent riding, and the ease and grace
+with which the officers guided their ponies and leaned over their
+saddles to strike the ball; the breathless moment when young Singleton
+rode alone with all the others pursuing him wildly; no wonder Bessie
+felt enthralled by the novelty of the sight. She uttered a little scream
+once when the horses and riders all crushed together in a sort of
+confused melee.
+
+"Is any one hurt?" she exclaimed in much distress; but Edna and Mrs.
+Grant only laughed.
+
+"You must come with me and have some tea," observed Mrs. Grant, when the
+match was over. "My lodgings are just by."
+
+Edna hesitated for a moment, and Bessie touched her arm.
+
+"It is already five," she whispered. "Do you see those dark clouds? We
+shall have a thunder-shower soon; I think it would be better to start
+for home."
+
+"And be caught in the rain," replied Edna, with a shrug. "And we have no
+umbrellas nor waterproofs. No, Bessie; we must take refuge at Mrs.
+Grant's until the shower is over. Come along; don't make a fuss. I do
+not want to go any more than you do, but it is no use getting wet
+through; we cannot help it if we are late for dinner." And so saying,
+Edna again joined the talkative Mrs. Grant.
+
+Bessie said no more, but all her uneasiness returned as she followed
+Edna. Mrs. Grant had temporary lodgings in the High Street, over a
+linen-draper's shop. She ushered her young guests into a large untidy
+looking room with three windows overlooking the street. One or two of
+the other ladies joined them, and one officer after another soon found
+their way up the steep little staircase, for Mrs. Grant was noted for
+her hospitality. She called Edna to help her at the tea-table, and
+Bessie seated herself by one of the windows. No one took much notice of
+her; her good-natured partner at tennis, Leonard Singleton, was not
+among Mrs. Grant's guests.
+
+Captain Grant brought her some tea, and offered her cake and fruit, but
+he soon left her to devote himself exclusively to Miss Sefton. Bessie
+felt very dull, and out in the cold, and yet she had no wish to join the
+gay group round the tea-table. The room felt close and oppressive; the
+first heavy drops were pattering on the window; two or three children
+were running down the street with a yellow dog barking at their heels.
+
+"You will get wet; shall I close the window?" observed a voice behind
+her, and Bessie started and looked round at the tall, solemn-looking
+young officer who had been introduced to her two hours previously as
+"Captain Broughton, not of ours, Miss Lambert."
+
+"Oh, no, I prefer it open, it is so warm," replied Bessie hastily.
+
+"Oh, ah, yes! Are you fond of polo?"
+
+"I never saw it played until this afternoon; it is very exciting, but I
+am sure it must be dangerous."
+
+"Nothing to speak of; an accident now and then--man half killed last
+Thursday, though."
+
+"Oh, dear, how dreadful!"
+
+The solemn-faced officer relaxed into a smile.
+
+"Well, he might have been killed outright in battle, don't you know;
+accidents will happen now and then; it is just luck, you see, and Owen
+always is such an unlucky beggar."
+
+Bessie refuted this with some vivacity. She explained that though it
+might be a man's duty to die for his country, it was quite another thing
+to imperil a valuable life on a mere game; but she could make no
+impression on the solemn-faced captain.
+
+"But it is an uncommonly good game, don't you know," he persisted; and
+Bessie gave up the point, for Captain Broughton's mind seemed as wooden
+as his face.
+
+"It was no good talking to such a man," she observed to Edna, as they
+drove home; "he said 'Don't you know' at the end of every sentence, and
+seemed so stupid."
+
+"Are you talking about Captain Broughton?" asked Edna calmly. "My dear
+Daisy, it is not always wise to judge by appearances. Captain Broughton
+is not specially amusing in conversation, but he is a brave fellow. Do
+you know, he wears the Victoria Cross for his gallantry in saving a
+wounded soldier; only a private too. Yes; though he was wounded himself,
+he carried him off the field. He was a village lad--one of his own
+tenants--who had followed him out to India, and when another ball struck
+him he just staggered on."
+
+"Oh, dear," groaned Bessie; "this is a punishment to me for judging too
+quickly. To think I had the opportunity for the first time in my life of
+talking to a hero, and that I called him stupid! This is a case of
+entertaining angels unawares. But if one could only know they were
+angels."
+
+Edna only laughed at this; but Bessie found food for uncomfortable
+reflection all the way home. The rain had ceased at last, but not before
+Edna had grown secretly conscious of the lateness of the hour. It was
+nearly seven before the weather allowed them to start, and for the last
+half hour she had stood at the window quite oblivious of Captain Grant's
+entreaties that she would make herself comfortable, and evidently deaf
+to his unmeaning compliments for she answered absently, and with a
+manner that showed that she was ill at ease.
+
+The moment the rain ceased, she asked him peremptorily to order her
+pony-chaise round.
+
+"Mamma will be getting anxious at this long delay," she said, so gravely
+that Captain Grant dare not disobey her.
+
+"You will come over next Saturday and see our match with the Hussars,"
+he pleaded, as she gathered up the reins.
+
+"Perhaps; but I will not promise," she returned, with a nod and a smile.
+"Oh, dear; how tiresome these last two hours have been. You have not
+enjoyed yourself a bit. Bessie. I am so sorry!"
+
+"Oh, never mind." returned Bessie wearily, and then they had both been
+silent. Neither was in the mood to enjoy the delicious freshness of the
+evening; that clear shining after the rain that is so indescribable, the
+wet, gleaming hedges, the little sparkling pools, the vivid green of the
+meadows; for Edna was feeling the reaction after her excitement; and
+Bessie, tired out with conflicting feelings was thinking regretfully of
+her unsatisfactory conversation with Captain Broughton.
+
+"It serves me right, after all," she thought penitently. "Father always
+says that we ought to take trouble to please even the most commonplace,
+uninteresting person, not to let ourselves be bored by anyone, however
+uncongenial they may be, and of course he is right. I was just fidgeting
+about the weather, and how we were to get home, and so I did not try to
+be entertaining." And here Bessie made a mental resolution to be more
+charitable in her estimate of people.
+
+She had no idea that Captain Broughton had said to himself as he left
+her, "Nice little girl, no nonsense about her; not a bad sort, after the
+women one sees; can talk to a man without looking for a compliment; like
+her better than Miss Sefton."
+
+Just as the drive was drawing to a close, Bessie roused up from her
+unwonted depression. They had turned out of the narrow lane, and a wide
+sweep of country lay before them, bathed in the soft tints of the
+setting sun. A mass of golden and crimson clouds made the western
+heavens glorious, the meadows were transfigured in the yellow radiance,
+every hedgerow and bush seemed touched by an unearthly finger, a sense
+of distance, of mystery, of tranquil rest seemed to pervade the world.
+
+"Oh, Edna, how beautiful! If only one were an artist to try and paint
+that."
+
+"Yes; it is a fine evening," remarked Edna carelessly.
+
+"Thank goodness, there is The Grange at last. Yes, there is Richard,
+evidently on the lookout for us. So I suppose they have finished
+dinner."
+
+"Did you think we were lost?" she asked with a little air of defiance,
+as her brother came forward and patted the ponies.
+
+"No," he said gravely; "I told my mother the rain must have detained
+you. It is a pity you went, Edna. Sinclair has been here two hours. He
+came down in the same train with mother."
+
+"Neville here!" And Edna's look changed, and she became rather pale.
+"What has brought him, Richard?"
+
+Richard shrugged his shoulders, and replied that he had not the least
+idea. He supposed it was a whim. It was evident that Edna was not too
+well pleased at the news. A little hardness came into her face, and she
+walked into the house without taking any notice of Bessie.
+
+As Bessie stood hesitating for a moment in the hall, Richard followed
+her. He had not even looked at her, and poor Bessie felt sure that his
+manner expressed disapproval.
+
+"Will you not go into the drawing-room, Miss Lambert?"
+
+"Oh, no. Mr. Sinclair is there, is he not? I would rather go upstairs
+and take off my things. I am very tired." And here Bessie faltered a
+little.
+
+But to her surprise Richard looked at her very kindly.
+
+"Of course you are tired. You had that long ride; but Edna would not
+think of that. Take off your things quickly and come down to the
+dining-room. Dixon will have something ready for you. There is some
+coffee going into the drawing-room. You will like some?"
+
+"Oh, yes, please," returned Bessie, touched by this thoughtfulness for
+her comfort. After all, he could not be angry with her. Perhaps she
+would have time to explain, to ask his opinion, to talk out her
+perplexity. How comfortable that would be! Bessie would not stay to
+change her dress, she only smoothed her hair, and ran down.
+
+Richard was waiting for her, and Dixon had just brought in the coffee.
+When he had gone out of the room she said eagerly:
+
+"Oh, Mr. Sefton, I am so glad to be able to ask you a question. You were
+not vexed with me for going to Staplehurst with your sister?"
+
+"Vexed!" returned Richard, in a tone that set her mind at rest in a
+moment. "You acted exactly as I expected you to act. When mother showed
+me your note I only said, 'I never doubted for a moment what Miss
+Lambert would do; she would go, of course.'"
+
+"Yes; I only hesitated for a moment; but, oh! what a miserable afternoon
+it has been!" And as she touched on the various incidents, including her
+_tête-à-tête_ with Captain Broughton, Richard listened with much
+sympathy.
+
+"I never dreamed for a moment that Edna would go after all, but it was
+just a piece of childish bravado. The foolish girl does not think of
+consequences. It is a most unfortunate thing that Sinclair should turn
+up at this moment; he is a little stiff on these subjects, and I am
+afraid that he is terribly annoyed."
+
+"Did Mrs. Sefton tell him all about it?"
+
+"My mother? No; she would have given worlds to hide it from him. Edna
+told him herself that she was going in her last letter. Oh, you don't
+know Edna," as Bessie looked extremely surprised at this; "her chief
+virtue is truthfulness. She will defy you to your face, and trample on
+all your prejudices, but she will never hide anything."
+
+"And she actually told Mr. Sinclair?"
+
+"Yes she did it to tease him, I believe, because his last letter did not
+please her. Sinclair has to put up with a good deal, I can tell you, but
+he wrote back in a great hurry, begging her not to carry out her plan.
+Sinclair told us both this evening that he could not have written a
+stronger letter. He told her that he had good reasons for wishing her to
+see as little as possible of Captain Grant. And when he came down just
+to give her a pleasant surprise, as he had a leisure evening, it was
+quite a shock to him to find his entreaties had been disregarded, and
+that she had actually gone after all. He is excessively hurt, and no
+wonder, to find Edna has so little respect for his wishes."
+
+"It was a grievous mistake," returned Bessie sorrowfully. "I don't
+believe Edna enjoyed herself one bit."
+
+"No; it was just a freak of temper, and she chose to be self-willed
+about it. I hope she will show herself penitent to Sinclair; she can
+turn him around her little finger if she likes; but sometimes she
+prefers to quarrel with him. I really think Edna enjoys a regular flare
+up," finished Richard, laughing. "She says a good quarrel clears the air
+like a thunder-storm; but I confess that I don't agree with her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+"SHE WILL NOT COME."
+
+
+Bessie did not enter the drawing-room that evening; she felt that her
+presence would be decidedly _de trop_ under the circumstances. She made
+the pretext of fatigue the reason for retiring to her room early, and
+Richard accepted the excuse as though he believed in it.
+
+"Well, I dare say you will be more comfortable," he agreed. "My mother
+will be sure to come up and wish you good-night. Confess now, Miss
+Lambert, are you not wishing yourself at home this evening?"
+
+"No; of course not," replied Bessie briskly. "Have you not promised me
+another ride to-morrow?" But all the same, as she went upstairs, she
+thought a talk with her mother and Hatty would have been very soothing.
+She was sitting by her window, thinking over things in general, when
+there was a tap at her door, and Mrs. Sefton entered.
+
+"Richard told me you were tired and had gone up to bed," she said, more
+kindly than usual. "I am so sorry, my dear, that you have had such an
+uncomfortable afternoon. Edna has been very naughty--very naughty
+indeed; but Richard and I feel very grateful to you for accompanying
+her."
+
+"I thought it was the right thing to do, Mrs. Sefton."
+
+"Yes, of course; there was nothing else to be done; but it was a foolish
+freak on Edna's part." Mrs. Sefton spoke in a worried voice, and her
+face looked tired and harassed. Bessie said as much, and she replied:
+
+"Oh, yes; I am worried enough. I have had a fatiguing day in town, and
+then when Neville and I entered the house, expecting a welcome, there
+was Richard's moody face and your note to greet us. And now, to make
+things worse, Edna chooses to be offended at Neville's coming down in
+this way, and declares he meant to be a spy on her. She won't say a
+civil word to him, and yet it is for him to be displeased; but I think
+he would waive all that if she would only own that she has acted
+ungenerously to him. I must say Neville is behaving beautifully. He
+speaks as gently as possible; but Edna is in one of her tempers, and she
+will not listen to reason."
+
+"I am sorry," replied Bessie, looking so full of sympathy that Mrs.
+Sefton relaxed from her usual cold dignity.
+
+"Oh, my dear," she said, and now there were tears in her eyes, "I am
+afraid it is all my fault. I have indulged Edna too much, and given her
+her own way in everything; and now she tyrannizes over us all. If I had
+only acted differently." And here the poor woman sighed.
+
+Bessie echoed the sigh, but she could think of nothing to say that could
+comfort Mrs. Sefton; she was evidently reaping the effects of her own
+injudicious weakness. She had not taught her child to practice
+self-discipline and self-control. Her waywardness had been fostered by
+indulgence, and her temper had become more faulty. "What man is there of
+you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?" asked the
+Divine Teacher; and yet there are many parents who offer these stony
+gifts to their children, loading them with false kindness and
+indulgence, leaving evil weeds unchecked, and teaching them everything
+but the one thing needful.
+
+"Oh, how different from mother!" thought Bessie, when she was left
+alone, and recalled the time when her young will had been over strong,
+and there had been difficult points in her character, and yet, how
+sensibly and how tenderly her mother had dealt with them.
+
+She had never been blind to one of her children's faults, and up to a
+certain age it had been her habit on the eve of their birthdays, to talk
+quietly to them, pointing out their failings and defective habits, and
+giving her opinion on the year's improvement. "On a birthday one ought
+to begin afresh," she would say, "and make a new start." How well Bessie
+could remember these talks, and the gentle words of praise that
+generally closed them. She was almost sorry when she was too grown up
+for them, and quiet self-examinations took the place of those fond
+maternal admonitions.
+
+When Bessie joined the family at breakfast she found Mr. Sinclair
+helping Edna with the urn. He accosted Bessie with much friendliness,
+and seemed pleased to see her again. She had been prepossessed with him
+at their first meeting, and she thought his manner still pleasanter on
+this second occasion, and she was struck afresh with his air of quiet
+refinement. He took part in the conversation with much animation, and
+talked more to Richard than to any one else.
+
+Edna did not appear to have recovered herself; she took very little
+notice of anybody, and received her _fiancé's_ attention rather
+ungraciously. Bessie thought she looked as though she had not slept
+well; her eyes had a heavy look in them, as though her head ached.
+Bessie had her ride directly afterward, and as Richard assisted her to
+mount, Mr. Sinclair stood on the steps and watched them.
+
+"What are you and Edna going to do with yourselves?" asked Richard
+presently.
+
+Mr. Sinclair smiled.
+
+"I shall do whatever Edna likes; perhaps she will drive me somewhere;
+she looks as though the fresh air would do her good. I shall have to go
+back to town this evening, so I must make the most of my day in the
+country."
+
+The house was so still when they returned that Bessie thought they had
+started for the drive, when she ran upstairs to take off her habit. She
+seated herself presently by one of the drawing-room windows with her
+work, wondering what everyone was doing.
+
+Her work interested her, and she was quietly enjoying herself when she
+heard quick footsteps in the hall outside, and a moment afterward a door
+slammed.
+
+"They have come back, I suppose," thought Bessie; and she worked on,
+until the drawing-room door opened and Mr. Sinclair came in alone. He
+seemed surprised to see Bessie, but the next minute he had crossed the
+room hastily.
+
+"Miss Lambert, will you do me a favor? I cannot find Mrs. Sefton, and I
+have no one else to ask."
+
+"Certainly," returned Bessie, and she rose at once.
+
+Mr. Sinclair looked pale and troubled, and his manner was extremely
+nervous.
+
+"Then will you be so good as to beg Edna to come down to me for a
+moment; she has misunderstood--that is, I wish to speak to her--there is
+a slight misconception. Edna has gone to her own room."
+
+"I will go at once," exclaimed Bessie, feeling convinced by his manner
+that something was very wrong. Edna must have quarrelled with him again.
+She ran upstairs and knocked on Edna's door, but received no answer; it
+was not locked, however, and after a moment's hesitation she entered.
+
+Edna had evidently not heard her; she was standing by the window in her
+walking-dress. As Bessie spoke to attract her attention, she turned
+round and frowned angrily; something in her face made Bessie breathless
+with apprehension.
+
+"What do you want?" she asked harshly.
+
+"Mr. Sinclair sent me," pleaded Bessie; "he is very anxious to speak to
+you; he begs that you will come downstairs. He thinks that there is some
+mistake."
+
+"No, there is no mistake," replied Edna slowly; "you may tell him so for
+me."
+
+"Why not tell him yourself, Edna?"
+
+"Because I have had enough of Mr. Sinclair's company this morning.
+Because nothing would induce me to speak to him again. I thought I had
+locked my door to prevent intrusion; but I suppose I forgot. Please give
+him my message that there is no mistake--oh, none at all."
+
+Bessie hesitated, but another look at Edna's face showed her that any
+entreaty at this moment would be in vain, so she went out of the room
+without another word.
+
+Mr. Sinclair was standing just where she had left him; he looked at her
+anxiously. Bessie shook her head.
+
+"She will not come," she said sorrowfully.
+
+"Will not? Did she give no reason--send no message?"
+
+"Only that there was no mistake; she repeated that more than once.
+Perhaps she will change her mind in a little while."
+
+But Mr. Sinclair did not seem to hear her.
+
+"No mistake! Then she meant it--she meant it!" he muttered, and his face
+became quite changed. He had walked to the window, but he came back
+again.
+
+"Thank you, Miss Lambert. I am very much obliged to you," he said, as
+though feeling he had been deficient in politeness; but before she could
+reply he had left the room.
+
+The gong sounded for luncheon directly afterward, but Bessie found the
+dining-room empty, so she sat down to her work again, and bye and bye
+Dixon brought her a message that his mistress was waiting. Mrs. Sefton
+was in the room alone; she motioned Bessie to a seat, and began to carve
+the chicken before her. No one else made their appearance; but Mrs.
+Sefton did not apologize for their absence. She scarcely eat anything
+herself, and made no attempt to sustain the conversation. She looked
+preoccupied and troubled, and as soon as the meal was over she begged
+Bessie to amuse herself, as she had some important business to settle,
+and left the room.
+
+Bessie passed a solitary afternoon; but though her book was interesting
+her attention often wandered. She was sure something was seriously
+wrong, and she felt vaguely unhappy on Edna's account. She could not
+forget Mr. Sinclair's face when she had brought him that message. It was
+as though he had received a blow that he scarcely knew how to bear.
+
+Dixon brought her some tea, and told her that his mistress and Miss Edna
+were having theirs in the dressing-room. Later on, as she went indoors
+to prepare for dinner, she encountered Richard; he had just driven up to
+the door in his dog-cart, and Brand and Gelert were with him.
+
+"Where is Mr. Sinclair?" she ventured to ask, as he smiled at seeing
+her.
+
+"He has gone," he replied. "I have just driven him to the station. Do
+you know where my mother is to be found?"
+
+"I have not seen her since luncheon," answered Bessie. "I think she is
+with Edna."
+
+"Very likely. I will go and see." And Richard sprung up the staircase
+three steps at a time. Bessie thought he looked tired and worried, too;
+and to add to the general oppression, a storm seemed gathering, for the
+air felt unusually still and sultry.
+
+Edna did not join them at dinner, and the meal was hardly more festive
+than the luncheon had been. Mrs. Sefton hardly opened her lips, and
+Richard only made a few general remarks.
+
+Bessie expected that her evening would be as solitary as her afternoon,
+but, rather to her surprise, Mrs. Sefton beckoned her to sit down beside
+her.
+
+"My dear," she said, "you are feeling very uncomfortable, I can see, and
+you do not like to ask questions; you think something is the matter, and
+you are right. Edna is making us all very unhappy. She has quarrelled
+with Neville, and has broken off her engagement with him, and nothing
+that Richard or I can say to her will induce her to listen to reason."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Sefton, how dreadful!"
+
+"Yes, is it not heart-breaking? Poor Neville! and he is so devoted to
+her. They were to have been married next spring, but now Edna declares
+that nothing would induce her to marry him. She will have it that he is
+jealous and monopolizing, and that he distrusts her. Over and over again
+she told us both that she would be the slave of no man's caprice. Of
+course it is all her temper; she is just mad with him because he is
+always in the right, and she knows how ungenerously she has acted; but
+bye and bye she will repent, and break her heart, for she is certainly
+fond of him, and then it will be too late."
+
+"And she has really sent him away?"
+
+"Yes; she told him to go, that she never wanted to see him again; and he
+has gone, poor fellow! Richard drove him to the station. He says he
+never saw a man so terribly cut up, but he told Richard, just at the
+last, that perhaps it might prove the best for them in the end, that
+they were not suited to each other, and never had been, but that Edna
+had never shown him her temper quite so plainly before."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Sefton, how terrible it all seems! Can nothing be done?"
+
+"Nothing," in a voice of despair. "Richard and I have talked to her for
+hours, but it is no use. She declares that it is a good thing she and
+Neville at last understand each other, that she will never repent her
+decision, and yet all the time she looks utterly wretched. But she will
+not own it; it is just her pride and her temper," finished the unhappy
+mother, "and I must stand by and see her sacrifice her own happiness,
+and say nothing."
+
+"May I go up to her, Mrs. Sefton? Do you think she would care to see
+me?"
+
+"I think she will see you now, and it is not good for her to be alone;
+but you will find her very hard and impracticable."
+
+"I shall not mind that, if she will only let me be with her a little;
+but I cannot bear to think of her shut up with only miserable thoughts
+to keep her company;" and here Bessie's eyes filled with tears, for she
+was very sympathetic and soft-hearted.
+
+"Then go to her, my dear, and I hope you may do her some good." And
+Bessie went at once.
+
+Just outside the door she met Richard; he was on his way to the
+drawing-room.
+
+"I am going up to Edna," she said, as he looked at her inquiringly. "Oh,
+Mr. Sefton, I am so sorry for her! She is making herself and every one
+else miserable."
+
+"I am more sorry for Sinclair," he returned, and his face looked very
+stern as he spoke. "She has treated him abominably. Wait a moment, Miss
+Lambert," as she seemed about to leave him; "there is no hurry, is
+there? and I have not spoken to you to-day. Do you think you are wise to
+mix yourself up in this? My mother is thinking more of Edna than of you,
+but you will do no good, and only make yourself miserable. Leave Edna
+alone to-night, and come and play to me instead."
+
+"Mr. Sefton, I never thought you could be so selfish."
+
+He laughed outright as Bessie said this very seriously.
+
+"Never trust any man; we are all of us selfish. But to tell you the
+truth, I was not thinking of my own enjoyment at that minute. I wanted
+to save you an hour's unpleasantness, but I see you prefer to make
+yourself miserable."
+
+"I think I do in the present instance," returned Bessie quietly.
+
+"Very well, have your own way; but if you take my advice, you will not
+waste your pity upon Edna. She is flinging away her happiness with her
+eyes open, just to gratify her temper. You see I can speak plainly, Miss
+Lambert, and call things by their right names. Just out of pride and
+self-will, she is bidding good-bye to one of the best fellows living,
+and all the time she knows that he is a good fellow. She won't find
+another Neville Sinclair, I tell her."
+
+"No; and it is just because she is doing it herself that I am sorry for
+her," replied Bessie. "Please don't keep me, Mr. Sefton; you do not
+understand--how can you? If he had died, if anything else had separated
+them, it would be so much easier to bear, but to do it herself, and then
+to be so sorry for it afterward--oh, how miserable that must be!" and
+Bessie's voice became a little unsteady as she hastily bade him good
+night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+A NOTE FROM HATTY.
+
+
+Bessie knew that she would find Edna in her mother's dressing room--a
+large, comfortable room, much used by both mother and daughter when they
+were tired or indisposed. Mrs. Sefton generally used it as a
+morning-room, and it was fitted up somewhat luxuriously.
+
+Bessie found Edna lying on a couch in her white tea-gown, with a novel
+in her hand. The pink shade of the lamp threw a rosy glow over
+everything, and at first sight Bessie thought she looked much as usual;
+her first words, too, were said in her ordinary tone.
+
+"So you have found your way up at last," she exclaimed, throwing down
+her book with an air of disgust and weariness; "my head ached this
+afternoon, and so mamma thought I had better stay here quietly."
+
+"Is your head better now?"
+
+"Yes, thanks; only this book is so stupid. I think novels are stupid
+nowadays; the heroes are so gaudy, and the heroines have not a spark of
+spirit. You may talk to me instead, if you like. What have you been
+doing with yourself all day?"
+
+Bessie was dumb with amazement. Was this pride or was Edna acting a
+part, and pretending not to care? She could break her lover's heart one
+minute and talk of novels the next. Bessie's simplicity was at fault;
+she could make nothing of this.
+
+"Why are you looking at me in that way?" asked Edna fretfully, on
+receiving no answer; and as she raised herself on the cushions, Bessie
+could see her face more plainly. It looked very pale, and her eyes were
+painfully bright, and then she gave a hard little laugh that had no
+mirth in it. "So mamma or Richard has been talking to you! What a
+transparent little creature you are, Bessie! You are dreadfully shocked,
+are you not, that I have sent Neville about his business?"
+
+"Oh, Edna, please don't talk about it in that way."
+
+"If I talk about it at all it must be in my own way. If Neville thought
+I could not live without him, he finds himself mistaken now. I am not
+the sort of girl who could put up with tyranny; other people may submit
+to be ordered about and treated like a child, but I am not one of them."
+
+"Edna, surely you consider that you owe a duty to the man you have
+promised to marry."
+
+"I owe him none--I will never owe him any duty." And here Edna's manner
+became excited. "It is mamma I ought to obey, and I will not always
+yield to her; but I have never given Neville the right to lecture and
+control me; no man shall--no man!" angrily.
+
+"Edna, how can you bear to part with Mr. Sinclair, when he is so good
+and loves you so much?"
+
+"I can bear it very well. I can do without him," she replied
+obstinately; "at least I have regained my liberty, and become my own
+mistress."
+
+"Will that console you for making him miserable? Oh, Edna, if you had
+only seen his face when I gave him your message, I am sure you must have
+relented. He has gone away unhappy, and you let him go."
+
+"Yes, I let him go. How dare he come down here to spy on my movements?
+Captain Grant, indeed! But it is all of a piece; his jealously is
+unbearable. I will no longer put up with it. Why do you talk about it,
+Bessie? You do not know Mr. Neville--Mr. Sinclair, I mean. He is a
+stranger to you; he has given me plenty to bear during our engagement.
+He has a difficult nature, it does not suit mine; I must be treated
+wholly or not at all."
+
+"Will you not let your mother explain this to him and send for him to
+come back?" But Edna drew herself up so haughtily that Bessie did not
+proceed.
+
+"I will never call him back, if I wanted him ever so; but I am not
+likely to want him, he has made me too miserable. No one shall speak to
+him; it is my affair, and no one has any right to meddle. Mamma takes
+his part, and Richard, too. Every one is against me, but they cannot
+influence me," finished Edna proudly.
+
+"Mrs. Sefton was right; I can do no good," thought Bessie sorrowfully;
+"it seems as though some demon of pride has taken possession of the
+girl. Mr. Sinclair is nothing to her to-night; she is only conscious of
+her own proud, injured feelings." And Bessie showed her wisdom by
+ceasing to argue the point; she let Edna talk on without checking her,
+until she had exhausted herself, and then she rose and bade her good
+night.
+
+Edna seemed taken aback.
+
+"You are going to leave me, Bessie?"
+
+"Yes, it is very late; and your mother will be coming up directly. I can
+do you no good; no one could to-night. I shall go and pray for you
+instead."
+
+"You will pray for me! May I ask why?"
+
+"I will not even tell you that to-night; it would be no use, the evil
+spirits will not let you listen, Edna; they have stopped your ears too;
+to-night you are in their power, you have placed yourself at their
+mercy; no one can help you except One, and you will not even ask Him."
+
+"You are very incomprehensible, Bessie."
+
+"Yes, I dare say I seem so, but perhaps one day you may understand
+better. You want us not to think you unhappy, and you are utterly
+miserable. I never could pretend things, even when I was a child. I
+must say everything out. I think you are unhappy now, and that you will
+be more unhappy to-morrow; and when you begin to realize your
+unhappiness, you will begin to look for a remedy. Good-night, dear Edna.
+Don't be angry at my plain speaking, for I really want to do you good."
+
+Edna made no answer, and yielded her cheek coldly to Bessie's kiss. If
+something wet touched her face she took no apparent notice, but Bessie
+could not restrain her tears as she left the room.
+
+"Oh, why, why were people so mad and wicked? How could any one calling
+herself by the sacred name of Christian suffer herself to be
+overmastered by these bitter and angry passions? It is just temper; Mrs.
+Sefton is right," thought Bessie; and her mind was so oppressed by the
+thought of Edna's wretchedness that it was long before she could compose
+herself to sleep.
+
+But she rose at her usual early hour, and wrote out of the fullness of
+her heart to her mother, not mentioning any facts, but relieving her
+overwrought feelings by loving words that were very sweet to her mother.
+
+"I think it is good to go away sometimes from one's belongings," wrote
+Bessie; "absence makes one realize one's blessings more. I don't think I
+ever felt more thankful that I had such a mother than last night, when
+Edna was talking in a way that troubled me."
+
+When Bessie went downstairs after finishing her letter, she was much
+surprised to see Edna in her usual place pouring out the coffee. She
+looked a little pale and heavy-eyed; but no one could have detected from
+her manner that there was anything much amiss. A slight restlessness,
+however, an eagerness for occupation and amusement, and a shade of
+impatience when any one opposed her, spoke of inward irritability. Now
+and then, too, there was a sharpness in her voice that betrayed nervous
+tension; but none dared to express sympathy by look or word. Once when
+she announced her intention of joining Bessie and Richard in their ride,
+and her mother asked her if she were not too tired, she turned on her
+almost fiercely.
+
+"I tired, mamma! What an absurd idea; as though riding ever tired me! I
+am not an old woman yet. Bessie," turning to her, "the Athertons are
+coming this afternoon, and I have written to the Powers to join them. We
+must have a good practice, because we have to go to the Badderleys'
+to-morrow, and Major Sullivan will be my partner; he is our best player,
+and we have Captain Grant and Mrs. Matchett against us."
+
+It was so in everything. Edna seemed bent all that day on tiring herself
+out. She rode at a pace that morning that left the others far behind,
+but Richard took no notice; he continued his conversation with Bessie,
+and left Edna to her own devices.
+
+In the afternoon she played tennis in the same reckless fashion; once
+Bessie saw her turn very pale, and put her hand to her side, but the
+next minute she was playing again.
+
+"What spirits Edna is in!" Florence said once. "Really I do not know
+what we shall all do next spring when she gets married, for she is the
+life and soul of everything;" for none of the girls had noticed that the
+diamond ring was missing on Edna's finger; some brilliant emerald and
+ruby rings had replaced it.
+
+Edna continued in this unsatisfactory state for weeks and not once did
+she open her lips, even to her mother, on the subject of her broken
+engagement. Every morning she made her plans for the day. It seemed to
+Bessie as though air and movement were absolutely necessary to her. When
+the morning ride was over she would arrange to drive her mother or
+Bessie to some given place, and the intervening hours were always spent
+in tennis or archery. When the evening came she would often lie on the
+drawing-room couch in a state of exhaustion, until she compelled herself
+to some exertion.
+
+"Oh, how stupid every one is!" she would say, jumping up in a quick,
+restless manner. "Ritchie, why don't you think of something amusing to
+do? Bessie, I hate those dreamy old ballads; do come and play some game.
+Mamma," she exclaimed, one evening, "we must have a regular picnic for
+Bessie; she has never been at a large one in her life. We will go to
+Ardley, and Florence shall take her violin, and Dr. Merton his cornet,
+and we will have a dance on the turf; it will be delightful."
+
+Well, to please her, they talked of the picnic, and Richard
+good-naturedly promised to hire a wagonette for the occasion, but she
+had forgotten all about it the next day, and there was to be an archery
+meeting in the long meadow instead.
+
+"Bessie, she is killing herself," exclaimed Mrs. Sefton, for in those
+days she found Bessie a great comfort. "Do you see how thin she is
+getting? And she eats next to nothing; she is losing her strength, and
+all that exercise is too much for her. The weather is too hot for those
+morning rides. I must speak to Richard."
+
+"She does not really enjoy them," replied Bessie; "but I think she feels
+better when she is in the air, and then it is something to do. Mrs.
+Sefton, I want to speak to you about something else. I have been here
+nearly a month, and it is time for me to go home."
+
+"You are not thinking of leaving us," interrupted Mrs. Sefton, in
+genuine alarm. "I cannot spare you, Bessie; I must write to your father.
+What would Edna do without you? My dear, I cannot let you go."
+
+"Hatty is not well," observed Bessie anxiously. "She always flags in the
+warm weather. I don't believe Cliffe really suits her; but father never
+likes to send her away. Christine wrote to me yesterday, and she said
+Hatty had had one of her old fainting fits, and had been very weak ever
+since. I cannot be happy in leaving her any longer, though they say
+nothing about my coming home."
+
+"But she has your mother and Christine. You are not really wanted,"
+urged Mrs. Sefton rather selfishly, for she was thinking of her own and
+Edna's loss, and not of Bessie's anxiety.
+
+"Hatty always wants me," returned Bessie firmly. "I think I am more to
+her than any one else, except mother. I have written to father this
+morning to ask what I had better do. I told him that I had had a long
+holiday, and that I was ready to come home at once if Hatty wanted me."
+
+"Oh, very well, if you have made your plans," returned Mrs. Sefton, in
+rather a chilling manner; but Bessie would not let her proceed.
+
+"Dear Mrs. Sefton," she said, much distressed at her obvious
+displeasure, "you must not think that I leave you willingly. I have been
+so happy here; it has been such a real holiday that I am afraid I am not
+a bit anxious to go home, but if father thinks it is my duty----"
+
+"Your father is a sensible man. I don't believe he will recall you,
+anyhow. I will write to him myself, and tell him how anxious we are to
+keep you. That will do no harm, eh, Bessie?"
+
+"No," hesitated the girl; "I dare say he will only think you are all too
+kind to me." She did not like to offend her hostess by begging her not
+to write. Her father knew her well enough; he would not misunderstand
+her. He knew her love for Hatty would never let pleasure stand in the
+way if she required her. "All the enjoyments in the world would not keep
+me from Hatty if she really needed me, and father knows that; we are
+both quite safe with him."
+
+Bessie was perfectly comfortable in her own mind; she was sure of her
+own motives, and she had implicit faith in her father; but she would not
+have been quite so easy if she had known that Mrs. Sefton intended to
+send a little note to Hatty as well. It was only a kindly worded note,
+full of sympathy for Hatty's little ailments, such as any friendly
+stranger might write; but the closing sentence was terribly damaging to
+Bessie's plans.
+
+    "Please do not let your father recall Bessie unless it be
+    absolutely necessary. We are all so fond of her, and my poor
+    girl, who is in sad trouble just now, is dependent on her for
+    companionship. Bessie is so happy, too, that it would be cruel
+    to take her away. She is becoming a first-rate horsewoman under
+    my son's tuition, and is very much liked by all our friends;
+    indeed, every one makes much of her. If you can spare her a
+    little longer, I shall be truly grateful, my dear Miss Lambert,
+    for my poor child's sake."
+
+And then followed a few kindly expressions of goodwill and sympathy.
+
+Bessie was rather surprised to receive a letter from Christine the
+following morning, with a little penciled note from Hatty inside.
+
+"Father was too busy to write," Christine said. "He had a very anxious
+case on hand, but he hoped Hatty was rather better that day, and he
+thought they could do without Bessie a little longer, as her friends
+seemed to need her so much. He was sorry to hear Miss Sefton had broken
+off her engagement; it was a very serious thing for any young lady to
+do, and he hoped none of his girls would act so dishonorably to any
+man."
+
+Hatty's note was short and much underlined.
+
+    "DARLING BESSIE: You are not to come home on my account. Chrissy
+    is very nice, and does everything for me, and I won't have your
+    pleasure spoiled, and Miss Sefton's too, poor thing, just
+    because I was stupid enough to faint. It is only the hot
+    weather--oh, it is so hot and glaring here! Chrissy and I cannot
+    imagine how you can ride and play tennis in such heat; but
+    perhaps it is cooler in the country. Now, remember, I mean what
+    I say, and that I don't want you one bit. At least that is a fib
+    in one way, because I always want my Betty; but I am quite happy
+    to think you are enjoying yourself, and cheering up that poor
+    girl--she must be very miserable. Write to me soon again. I do
+    love your letters. I always keep them under my pillow and read
+    them in the morning. Good-bye, darling; you are my own Betty,
+    you know.
+
+        "Your loving little
+            "HATTY."
+
+"I suppose I must stop a week or ten days longer," thought Bessie,
+laying down her letters with rather a dissatisfied feeling. "I wish
+father could have written, himself, but I dare say he will in a day or
+two. I will try not to fidget. I will wait a little, and then write to
+mother and tell her how I feel about things. When she understands how
+difficult it is for me to get away without giving offense, she will be
+sure to help me, and six weeks are enough to satisfy Mrs. Sefton."
+
+Bessie spoke of her letters at luncheon-time. Edna heard her with
+languid attention, but Mrs. Sefton was triumphant.
+
+"I knew they could spare you, Bessie," she said, with a look of
+amusement that made Bessie feel a little small.
+
+Richard glanced at her without speaking, and then busied himself in his
+carving. But that evening, as Bessie was pausing in the hall to look out
+at the dark clouds that were scurrying across the sky, she found Richard
+at her elbow.
+
+"There is going to be a storm," he said quietly. "I have been expecting
+it all day. Edna is always nervous; she hates the thunder. What was that
+my mother was saying at luncheon, Miss Lambert? Surely you do not
+intend leaving us?"
+
+"Not just yet--not for another week," returned Bessie, much surprised by
+the gravity of his manner. "They will want me at home after that."
+
+"They will not want you as much as some of us do here," he returned,
+with much feeling. "Miss Lambert, do not go unless you are obliged. My
+sister needs you, and so--" He broke off abruptly, colored, and finally
+wished her good-night.
+
+"I wonder why he did not finish his sentence?" thought Bessie
+innocently, as she went up to her room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+"TROUBLE MAY COME TO ME ONE DAY."
+
+
+Bessie had hardly fallen asleep before the storm broke. A peal of
+thunder crashing over the house woke her; the next minute a flash of
+lightning seemed to fill her room with white light.
+
+"What a terrific clap! It must have woke Edna," she thought; and just as
+she was summoning up resolution to cross the dark passage in search of
+her, there was a hasty tap at the door, and Edna entered, fully dressed,
+and with a candle in her hand.
+
+"Edna! what does this mean? You have not been to bed at all?" exclaimed
+Bessie, regarding her friend with dismay. Edna's pale, disordered looks
+excited her alarm.
+
+"No," she returned, in a tone of forced composure, as she put down the
+candle with a shaking hand; "I was too nervous to sleep. I knew the
+storm was coming, and I sat up and waited for it; but I could not stop
+by myself any longer. Did I wake you, Bessie?"
+
+"The thunder woke me, and I thought of you. I am not a bit frightened;
+but one cannot sleep in such a noise. Hark at the rain; a perfect
+deluge! Come and lie down beside me, Edna, dear. You look quite wan and
+exhausted.
+
+"I have been thinking myself stupid, but I am still too restless to lie
+down. I feel as though I never want to sleep again, and yet I am so
+tired. Ah, you don't know the feeling! One seems on wires, and all sorts
+of horrid, troublesome thoughts keep surging through one's brain, and
+there seems no rest, no peace anywhere." And she shivered, and hid her
+face on the pillow as another peal broke over the house.
+
+Bessie did not speak for a minute, and then she said very tenderly:
+
+"Edna, dear, I know all about it. I am quite sure that you are
+miserable; I have known it all the time. Pride does not help you a bit
+now; in your heart you are sorrowful and repentant. You would give all
+you have in the world to bring him back again."
+
+But Edna silenced her. "Don't, Bessie, you are torturing me. I cannot
+bear sympathy; it seems to madden me somehow. I want people to think I
+don't care--that it is all nothing to me."
+
+"Ah, but you do care, Edna."
+
+"Yes, I know I do," in a despairing voice. "I will own, if you like,
+that I am very miserable, but you must not take advantage of me. I am
+weak to-night, and I seem to have no strength to brave it out. Don't be
+hard upon me, Bessie; you have never been in trouble yourself. You
+cannot put yourself in my place."
+
+A great pity rose in Bessie's heart as she listened to Edna's sad voice.
+"No," she said gently, "I have never known real trouble, thank God,
+except when Frank died. Mine has been a very happy life; but trouble may
+come to me one day."
+
+"Yes, but not through your own fault," replied Edna, in the same dreary
+hopeless voice. "There is no trouble so hard to bear as that. To think
+that I might have been so happy, and that my own temper has spoiled it
+all. Let me tell you all about it, Bessie; it will be a relief, even
+though you cannot help me, for to-night the misery is more than I can
+bear." And here she hid her face in her hands, and gave vent to a few
+choking sobs.
+
+Bessie only answered by a quiet caress or two, and after a few moments
+Edna recovered herself.
+
+"I was unreasonably angry with Neville that day, but I never guessed
+that my passion would overmaster me to that extent. Oh, Bessie! why, why
+was I never taught to control my temper? Why was my mother so cruelly
+kind to me? If I had been brought up differently--but no, I will only
+reproach myself. If Neville had been more masterful--if he had shown
+more spirit; but there again I am ungenerous, for nothing could exceed
+his gentleness; but it only exasperated me. I was bent on quarrelling
+with him, and I fully succeeded; and I worked myself up to such a pitch
+that I almost hated the sight of him. I wanted to be free--I would be
+free; and I told him so. I was still in the same mind when you brought
+me that message, but, all the same, something seemed to whisper to me
+that I should live to repent that day's work; but I would not listen to
+this inward prompting--I would be firm. Bessie, I verily believe some
+evil spirit dominated me--I felt so cold, so inexorable, so determined
+on my own undoing. For one moment I quailed, and that was when I saw
+Neville drive away from the house. I saw his face, and it looked so pale
+and sad. Something within me said, 'Call him back, and he will come even
+now;' but I was too proud to give the sign. I wanted to do it, but my
+demon would not suffer me, and in a moment he was gone. Oh, Bessie, how
+I suffered that night and the night after! But my pride was strong. I
+would not let people see how unhappy I was. But I want him back now.
+There is no one in the world like Neville--so gentle, and brave, and
+good; but I have lost him, and I deserve to lose him, for I was never
+worthy of his love." And here Edna broke into bitter weeping, and for a
+little while there was no comforting her.
+
+"Oh, how selfish I am!" she exclaimed at last, starting up. "I have only
+made you miserable; and, after all, no one can do me any good. Don't
+look at me so reproachfully, Bessie; you are very dear and good to me,
+but you cannot put yourself in my place."
+
+"You are wrong," returned Bessie quickly. "Though I have never been
+through your experiences, I can still sympathize with you. If I were in
+your position, Edna, I would not speak as you are doing now, as though
+there were no hope for you, as though everything were only black and
+miserable. The Lord Jesus is always able and willing to help all who
+penitently and trustfully look to Him for pardon. There are no depths of
+human suffering deep enough to hide us from His tender sympathy and
+forgiving love."
+
+"Oh, but I am not religious, Bessie. I am not good, like you."
+
+"Please don't talk so, Edna; it only pains me to hear you. Let me tell
+you how I think I should try to feel in your place. I would try to bear
+my trouble bravely, knowing that it had come through my own fault. If we
+do wrong, we must surely take our punishment. Oh, I know it is easy to
+talk, but all the same this is how I would strive to carry my burden."
+
+"Ah, but such a burden would crush any girl."
+
+"You must not let it crush you, Edna. You must not let it lead you to
+despair. However heavy the burden, and however much we deserve the
+suffering which our follies and mistakes and sins bring, there is one
+all-sufficient way of deliverance. Jesus, by His death on the cross, has
+made it possible for us to be freely forgiven; and if we come to Him in
+faith and prayer, the Holy Spirit will lead us into the full experience
+of salvation and peace. Your will is very strong; why do you not will
+this one thing--to become worthy of the love of a true man like Mr.
+Sinclair? I do not say that things will be the same between you; I know
+too little about the world to guess how a man acts under such
+circumstances; but if you care for him really--if indeed he stands so
+high in your estimation as a good man whom you have misunderstood and
+wronged, then, even if you lead your lives apart, you may still try to
+live nobly that he may think of you with respect. You may still let the
+influence of this trial guide you to a higher and better life. Would not
+this make things more bearable?"
+
+Bessie's words, spoken with intense earnestness, seemed to stir Edna's
+mind, rousing it from its bitter apathy of hopeless remorse and grief; a
+faint light came into her eyes.
+
+"Do you think I could grow better--that Neville would ever hear of me?
+Oh, I should like to try. I do so hate myself, Bessie. I seem to grow
+more selfish and horrid every year. I thought Neville would help me to
+be good, but without him----" And here the tears came again.
+
+"Without him it will be doubly hard. Yes, I know that, Edna dear; but
+you must lean on a stronger arm than his--an arm that will never fail
+you. Cast all your burden upon the loving sympathy and tender heart of
+the Lord Jesus, and He will lead and comfort you. Now you are utterly
+exhausted, and the storm is quite lulled; do go back to your room; you
+will be able to sleep, and it is nearly three o'clock."
+
+"And I have kept you awake all this time," remorsefully. "Well, I will
+go; the pain is a little easier to bear now. I will think over your
+words; they seem to have a sort of comfort in them. Yes, I deserve to be
+unhappy for making Neville so wretched. Good-bye, dear Bessie; you are a
+real friend to me, for you tell me nothing but the truth."
+
+Bessie kissed her affectionately, and then Edna left the room; but
+Bessie found it difficult to resume her interrupted dreams; the splash
+of the raindrops against her windows had a depressing sound, the
+darkness was dense and oppressive, a vague sadness seemed to brood over
+everything, and it was long before she could quiet herself enough to
+sleep. Strangely enough, her last waking thoughts were of Hatty, not of
+Edna, and she was dreaming about her when the maid came to wake her in
+the morning.
+
+Edna did not come down to breakfast; the storm had disturbed her, Mrs.
+Sefton said. "I think it must have kept you awake, too," she observed,
+with a glance at Bessie's tired face.
+
+Bessie smiled and said a word or two about the wild night, but she did
+not speak of Edna's visit to her room. Afterward she went up to prepare
+for her ride, but during the next hour Richard noticed she was not in
+her usual spirits, and questioned her kindly as to the cause of her
+depression. Bessie made some trifling excuse; she had slept badly, and
+her head ached; but in reality she could find no reason for her vague
+discomfort.
+
+The morning was fresh and lovely, and bore no signs of last night's
+storm. Whitefoot was in frisky spirits, but she found herself looking at
+everything with melancholy eyes, as though she were looking her last at
+the pleasant prospect. In vain she strove to shake off the uncanny
+feeling, and to answer Richard's remarks in her usual sprightly fashion.
+The very effort to speak brought the tears to her eyes, and she had the
+vexed feeling that Richard saw them and thought something was amiss, for
+he told her very kindly to be sure and rest herself that afternoon.
+
+Edna was in the front garden when they returned; she was standing at the
+gate evidently watching for them. Bessie thought she looked very pale.
+As Richard lifted her down Edna opened the gate.
+
+"You have had a longer ride than usual, have you not, Richard? Bessie
+looks very tired. Will you take off your habit, or will you go into the
+drawing-room? Your brother has just arrived, Bessie."
+
+"My brother? Do you mean Tom? Oh, what does he want with me? Hatty must
+be worse." And here Bessie's numb, unaccountable feelings quickened into
+life. "Oh, Edna, speak--what is it?" And then Bessie grew pale with
+apprehension.
+
+"Hatty is not very well," replied Edna gently; "but Mr. Tom will tell
+you himself."
+
+"Yes, go to him," whispered Richard; "your brother will be your best
+informant; don't wait to ask Edna."
+
+And Bessie needed no further bidding. Oh, she knew now what that vague
+presentiment meant! That was her last ride--her last everything, she
+told herself, as she hurried into the house. Of course, Hatty was ill,
+very ill--dying perhaps--she always knew she would die. Tom's boyish
+face looked unusually grave as he caught sight of Bessie. She walked up
+to him and grasped his arm.
+
+"What is it, Tom?" she said almost clinging to him.
+
+Poor Tom was hardly equal to the occasion. He was young, and hated
+scenes, and Mrs. Sefton was looking at them both, and he felt uncommonly
+choky himself; but Edna, who had followed Bessie, said promptly:
+
+"Don't be afraid of telling Bessie, Mr. Lambert; she knows that Hatty is
+not so well. You have come to fetch her--have you not?--because Hatty
+had another bad fainting fit, and your father thinks her very ill."
+
+"That is about it," blurted out Tom. "Can you get ready and come back
+with me, Bessie? Hatty asked for you last night for the first time, and
+then father said I had better come and fetch you; so I took the last
+train to London, and slept at Uncle George's, and came on this morning."
+
+"And Hatty is very ill?" asked Bessie, with a sort of desperate calmness
+that appeared very ominous to Tom, for he answered nervously:
+
+"Well, she is pretty bad. Father says it is a sudden failure. It is her
+heart; and he says he always expected it. He never did think well of
+Hatty, only he would not tell us so--what was the use? he said. But now
+these fainting attacks have made him anxious, for he says one can never
+tell what may happen; and then he said you must be fetched at once."
+
+"I suppose we can start by the next train, Tom?"
+
+"Yes, by the 3:15; there is none before that. We must catch the 6:05
+from Paddington, so you will have time to look about you."
+
+"Let me help you," exclaimed Edna eagerly. "Mamma, will you send Brandon
+to us?" And she followed Bessie.
+
+Richard came into the room that moment, and took possession of Tom,
+carrying him off to the garden and stable-yard, and trying to make the
+time pass in a less irksome manner. Richard could show his sympathy for
+Bessie in no other way than this, and he felt sorry for Tom, who was
+feeling awkward among so many strangers, and was trying to repress his
+feelings, after the fashion of young men.
+
+"I am afraid your sister is very much cut up about this," observed
+Richard presently.
+
+"Oh, yes, she will take it uncommonly badly; she and Hatty are such
+chums."
+
+"Yes, but I trust that your sister is not dangerously ill?"
+
+"Well, she does not seem so to me," replied Tom vaguely. "She is weak,
+of course; any one would be weak after such an attack; but she looks and
+talks much as usual, only she is too tired to get up."
+
+"And it is her heart, you say?"
+
+"Well, my father says so. You see, she has always been weakly, but there
+never seemed much amiss to us; and now my father says that he never
+expects her to make an old woman, and that there is something wrong with
+her heart, and he is afraid that she may go off in one of these attacks,
+and that is why he wants Bessie to come home at once."
+
+"Yes, I see; it looks very serious. Oh, there is the luncheon-bell. I
+have ordered the carriage round directly afterward, so you will be in
+plenty of time."
+
+When the two young men returned to the house they found Bessie in the
+dining-room. She took her old place by Richard, and made some pretense
+of eating. Once, when Richard spoke to her, begging her to remember the
+long journey before her, she looked up at him with a faint smile; that
+smile, so gentle and childlike, haunted Richard during the remainder of
+the day.
+
+Bessie was battling bravely with her feelings all luncheon, and during
+the short interval that elapsed before the carriage was brought round
+she managed to say a few words to Mrs. Sefton, thanking her for all her
+kindness, and just before she left the house she found an opportunity to
+speak to Edna.
+
+"Edna," she whispered, holding her friend's hand, "you will not forget
+our talk. I shall be thinking of you even when I am with Hatty." And
+then for the moment she could say no more.
+
+"Will you come, Miss Lambert?" urged Richard gently. He had followed the
+girls, and had overheard this little speech; but Bessie did not heed
+him.
+
+"Will you try to be brave, Edna?" But her voice was almost inaudible.
+
+"Go with Richard, Bessie, darling; he is waiting for you." And then
+Bessie got into the carriage.
+
+She looked back and waved her hand as they drove away, but this time
+there was no smile on her face. Edna was standing on the porch, and the
+afternoon sun was shining on her face and hair and white dress, and her
+large wistful eyes were full of sadness. Bessie's lip quivered, her
+heart ached. How beautiful it all was! The world seemed glorified in
+sunshine; every one they met seemed happy, and yet Edna was wretched,
+and Hatty ill--perhaps dying; and a great black cloud seemed to
+overshadow everything, a sense of terror and confusion, of utter chaos.
+"In the midst of life we are in death." Why did those words come to
+Bessie? Just before the train moved Richard broke the silence.
+
+"You will let us hear how things are, Miss Lambert?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I will write to Edna."
+
+"And you will take care of yourself?"
+
+"Yes, thank you."
+
+"Things maybe better than you expect; one can never tell." He stopped
+and looked earnestly in her face, and she could see that he was very
+much moved. "I wish you could be spared all this, but I know you will do
+your best for everybody. I will not tell you now how we shall all miss
+you; the house will seem very empty when I go back."
+
+"You have been very good to me, Mr. Sefton; thank you for everything."
+
+"No one can help being good to you," he replied gravely. "Good-bye, God
+bless you!" The train moved on, and he lifted his hat and stood aside.
+
+"Oh, how kind every one is!" thought Bessie, as she leaned back wearily
+and closed her eyes. Was it all a dream, or was her beautiful holiday
+really over? Alas! the dull, aching consciousness told her too truly
+that it was sorrowful reality.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+"FAREWELL, NIGHT!"
+
+
+The journey seemed endless to Bessie, but she restrained her painful
+restlessness for Tom's sake. Tom was very kind after his own fashion; he
+got her some tea at Paddington, and was very attentive to her comfort,
+and every now and then he gave utterance to a few remarks, bidding her
+keep up her heart like a brave little woman.
+
+"'While there is life there is hope,' you know, Bessie," he said. "I
+think my father takes too dark a view of the case; but then, you see,
+Hatty is his own child. I don't believe she is as bad as all that;
+depend upon it, she will take a good turn yet."
+
+"Don't let us talk about it, Tom," pleaded Bessie, with a sick, wretched
+feeling that Tom's boyish testimony was not very reliable. How she
+wished he would be silent; but in a few minutes he was back again on the
+same subject, with another homely axiom for Bessie's comfort.
+
+But the longest day must have an end, and at last they reached Cliffe.
+No one met them at the station, but Tom assured her that he never
+expected to be met; he put Bessie into a fly, and again there was need
+for patience, as the horse toiled slowly up the steep road. It was long
+past nine when they reached the house, and by that time Bessie's
+overwrought feelings bordered on nervous irritability.
+
+The door opened as the fly stopped, and by the hall lamp she saw her
+mother's face, looking paler and sadder, but her voice was as quiet and
+gentle as ever.
+
+"Is that you, Bessie? My dear child, how tired you must be!"
+
+"Oh, mother, mother!" and now Bessie literally fell on her mother's neck
+and wept.
+
+Mrs. Lambert seemed to understand all about it; she made her sit down on
+the couch, and took off her hat, and smoothed her hair with caressing
+fingers.
+
+"You have had a long day, and have been keeping up as well as you could;
+don't be afraid of giving way a little, now you are with your own
+mother," she said tenderly.
+
+"Oh, mother, you are such a comfort; but I must not trouble you like
+this, and I am keeping you from Hatty."
+
+"Hattie is asleep," replied her mother quietly. "Christine is with her;
+you must come into the dining-room with me, and have something to eat
+and drink before you go upstairs;" but Bessie detained her "Wait a
+moment, mother, darling; Tom is there, and I want to speak to you alone.
+What does father really think of Hatty?"
+
+"He thinks her very ill," was the sorrowful answer; "it seems a sudden
+failure. She was much as usual until the warm weather came, and then one
+evening she complained of palpitation and faintness, and the next day
+she seemed very weak, and so it has gone on. Your father says he was
+always afraid there was latent mischief, but I think he hardly expected
+it would be like this. There was a consultation this morning, but they
+say there is no rallying power, and another attack may carry her off."
+
+"Oh, mother, if I had only stayed at home!"
+
+"Don't say that, Bessie; you must not even think of it; no care on your
+part could have prevented this. Hatty seemed as well as usual for a week
+or two after you left, and none of us suspected anything. You are very
+good not to reproach us for not sending for you before, but Hatty
+prevented us; she would not have your pleasure spoiled, and it was only
+last night that your father looked so grave, and said Tom had better
+fetch you."
+
+"But is there no hope--no hope at all, mother?"
+
+"I dare not ask the question," and here Mrs. Lambert's eyes filled with
+tears. "Your father looks so harassed. Dr. Morton said she might go on
+like this for a long time, getting weaker and weaker, or it might be
+sudden. Dear little Hatty is so good and patient, and gives us no
+trouble. Now you must not talk any more, and you must be a good child
+and take your supper; we all need to keep up our strength. I will leave
+Tom to take care of you while I go up to Hatty."
+
+Bessie did as she was told, and Ella and Katie waited on her, and then
+she went up to her own room, and stayed there until Christine came to
+fetch her.
+
+"Hattie is awake now, Bessie, and she is asking for you, and mother has
+gone downstairs to speak to father."
+
+"Thank you, Chrissy dear. I will go to her at once;" and Bessie went
+hurriedly across the passage.
+
+Hattie lay on her little bed with her eyes closed. As she opened them a
+sudden sweet smile came over her face, and she held out her arms to
+Bessie. "My own Betty, is it really you?"
+
+"Yes, it is really I," returned Bessie, trying to speak brightly; but
+now her heart sunk as she looked at her sister. There was no need to
+tell her Hatty was very ill; the life was flickering in the feeble body,
+the mysterious wasting disease had made rapid strides, even in these few
+days. "Oh, Hatty darling, to find you like this! Why--why did you not
+let them send for me? You wanted me; I am sure you wanted me."
+
+"Why, of course I wanted you," returned Hatty, in a weak, happy voice,
+"and that is just why I would not let them send. You know how unhappy I
+have always been because of my horrid selfishness, and I did want to be
+good for once, and I said to myself when Mrs. Sefton's letter came,
+'Bessie shall not know how poorly I feel, nor what strange suffocating
+feelings I have sometimes. I won't try to get my own way this time; she
+shall be happy a little longer.'"
+
+"Oh, Hatty! as though I cared for any happiness without you!"
+
+"You must not say that, Bessie dear," replied Hatty, stroking her
+sister's hand; "and yet it seems nice to hear you say so. Do you
+recollect what I used to say--that it would take very little to kill me,
+because I was so weak? Well, I think it is coming true."
+
+"Don't talk so, Hatty; I can't bear it. I feel as if I want to lie there
+in your stead."
+
+But Hatty shook her head.
+
+"No, darling, no; that would not do at all. You are so strong and full
+of life, and people could not spare you. It does not matter for a weakly
+little creature like myself. I have never been strong enough to enjoy
+anything. I have just been 'Little Miss Much-Afraid,' full of
+troublesome fears and fancies; but they seem gone somehow."
+
+"I am so glad, my Hatty; but ought you to talk?"
+
+"Yes, when I feel like this. Oh, I am so comfortable, and it is so nice
+to have you with me again. What talks we will have! Yes, I don't feel
+like dying yet. Oh, there's mother, and she is going to send you away."
+
+"Yes, for to-night, love. Bessie is tired, and it is not good for you to
+talk so much. Bessie shall be head nurse to-morrow, if she likes, but
+father says she is to go to bed now."
+
+"Very well, mother," replied Hatty meekly. "Bid me good-night, Bessie. I
+don't mean to be selfish ever again." And as Bessie kissed her without
+speaking and moved away, she said to herself, "It was Bessie that always
+helped me to be good; but bye and bye I shall be quite good. Oh, how
+nice that will be!"
+
+Bessie's life was changed, indeed, from this day. No more thoughtless,
+merry hours, no more rides and drives and pleasant musical evenings. Her
+days were passed in a sick-room, and from hour to hour she seemed only
+to live on Hatty's looks and words. Bessie had for many years been her
+mother's right hand, and now she shared her watch beside the sick-bed.
+Her bright, healthy color began to fade from fatigue and anxiety, and it
+needed her father's stringent orders to induce her to take needful rest
+and exercise. For the first time in her life Bessie found it difficult
+to submit, and she had to fight more than one battle with herself before
+she yielded. More than once her mother remonstrated with her tenderly
+but firmly.
+
+"Bessie dear," she said once, "this may be a long illness, and it is
+your duty to husband your strength most carefully. You are looking pale
+from confinement to the house and want of exercise. You know your father
+insists that Christine should relieve you for two hours in the
+afternoon."
+
+"Yes, mother; and of course father is thinking of me; but what does it
+matter if I look a little pale? I cannot bear to lose an hour of Hatty's
+company when--when--" but Bessie could not finish her sentence.
+
+"My dear, the feeling is natural; but don't you think Chrissy likes to
+have her to herself sometimes? We all love Hatty; you must remember
+that."
+
+"Oh, mother, how selfish I am, after all! I see what you mean. I want to
+monopolize Hatty, and I grudge her to every one else--even to you and
+Chrissy. I never knew I could be so horrid; but I see even trouble has
+its temptations."
+
+"Indeed it has, Bessie; but I will not have you say such hard things
+about yourself. You are our dear child, and our greatest comfort, and I
+do not know what your father and I would do without you. Don't fret any
+more, darling; go out with Katie, and get a little turn in the woods,
+and come back fresh for the evening work."
+
+Mrs. Lambert's words were not thrown away. Bessie's sweet, reasonable
+nature was easily guided; her passionate love for Hatty had blinded her
+to her own selfishness, but now her eyes were open. The mother's heart
+was often touched by the cheerful alacrity with which Bessie would yield
+her place to Christine. Even Hatty's plaintive, "Oh, must you go,
+Bessie?" seemed to make no impression; but how long those two hours
+seemed!
+
+Bessie did not forget her friends in her trouble; she sent frequent
+notes to Edna, and heard often from her in return. Now and then a kind
+message came from Richard, and every week a hamper filled with farm
+produce and fruit and flowers were sent from The Grange. Hatty used to
+revel in those flowers; she liked to arrange them herself, and would sit
+pillowed up on her bed or couch, and fill the vases with slow, tremulous
+fingers.
+
+"Doesn't the room look lovely?" she would say, in a tone of intense
+satisfaction. When her weakness permitted she loved to talk to Bessie
+about her friends at The Grange, and was never weary of listening to
+Bessie's descriptions.
+
+"What a nice man Mr. Richard must be, Betty!" she would say. "I should
+like to see him." And she often harped on this theme, and questioned
+Bessie closely on this subject; but often their talk went deeper than
+this.
+
+One evening, about five weeks after Bessie's return, she was alone with
+Hatty; she had been reading to her, and now Hatty asked her to put down
+the book.
+
+"Yes, it is very nice, but I feel inclined to talk. Come and lie on the
+bed, Bessie, and let us have one of our old cosy talks. Put your head
+down on the pillow beside me. Yes, that is how I mean; isn't that
+comfortable? I always did like you to put your arm round me. How strong
+and firm your hand feels! Look at the difference." And Hatty laid her
+wasted, transparent fingers on Bessie's pink palm.
+
+"Poor little Hatty?"
+
+"No, I am not poor a bit now. You must not call me that. I don't think I
+have ever been so happy in my life. Every one is so kind to me--even
+Tom--he never finds fault with me now."
+
+"We are all so sorry for you."
+
+"Yes, but you must not be too sorry. Somehow I am glad of this illness,
+because it makes you all think better of me. You will not remember now
+how cross, and jealous, and selfish I used to be. You will only say,
+'Poor little thing, she always wanted to be good, even when she was most
+naughty and troublesome.'"
+
+"Don't, Hatty; I can't bear to hear you!"
+
+"Yes, let me say it, please; it seems to do me good. How often you have
+helped me over my difficulties. 'If I could only tell Bessie,' that was
+what I used to say. I am glad you went away and gave me something to
+bear. I used to be glad every night when I prayed; it was something to
+do for you, and something to bear for His sake." And Hatty dropped her
+voice reverently, for she was speaking of the Lord Jesus.
+
+"Yes, darling, I see what you mean."
+
+"I am glad that it has not been too easy, and that I have really tried
+for once not to be selfish. I don't want to get well, Bessie. I should
+have all the old, miserable feelings over again. I have been 'Little
+Miss Much-Afraid' all my life, and the fears have been a part of me. Do
+you recollect what Bunyan said about Much-Afraid? 'She went through the
+river singing;' that was because she had left all her fears and troubles
+on the bank."
+
+"And you are not afraid to die, Hatty?"
+
+"No, not really afraid. Sometimes in the night, when I lie awake with
+that strange oppression, I think how strange it will be without you all,
+and to have only the angels to talk to me. But I suppose I shall get
+used to it. I always say that psalm over to myself, and then the queer
+feeling leaves me. Don't you know? 'He shall give His angels charge over
+thee. They shall bear thee up in their hands.' That verse gives one such
+a restful feeling; just as though one were a little child again."
+
+"Dear Hatty, you will be in that city where 'the inhabitants shall not
+say, I am sick, and they that dwell therein shall be forgiven their
+iniquity.' You will be where Jesus is.
+
+    'Peace, perfect peace with loved ones far away!
+     In Jesus' keeping we are safe--and they.'
+
+It does me good to hear you; but you must not talk any more, your voice
+is so weak. Let me repeat one of your favorite hymns, and then perhaps
+you will get drowsy." And then Hatty consented to be silent.
+
+After all, the end came very suddenly, just when it was least expected.
+Hatty had seemed better that day; there was a strange flicker of life
+and energy; she had talked much to her mother and Bessie, and had sent a
+loving, playful message to Tom, who was away from home.
+
+It had been her father's custom to take the early part of the
+night-watch, and then to summon one of the others to relieve him. He had
+persisted in this, in spite of long, laborious days. Hatty was very dear
+to her father's heart, and he loved those quiet hours beside her. Bessie
+had retired to bed early, as it was her turn to be roused, but long
+before the usual hour her mother was beside her.
+
+"Come, my child, come; do not wait to dress, Hatty is going home fast."
+
+One startled, non-comprehending look, and then the truth rushed on
+Bessie, and she threw on her dressing-gown and hurried to the sick-room.
+
+"Going home fast!" nay, she had gone; the last sigh was breathed as
+Bessie crossed the threshold "Thank God, she has not suffered!"
+murmured her father. Bessie heard him as she flung herself down beside
+Hatty.
+
+There had been no pain, no struggle; a sudden change, a few short sighs,
+and Hatty had crossed the river. How peaceful and happy she looked in
+her last sleep--the sweet, deep sleep that knows no awaking! An innocent
+smile seemed to linger on her face. Never more would Hatty mourn over
+her faults and shortcomings; never more would morbid fears torment and
+harass her weary mind; never more would she plead for forgiveness, nor
+falter underneath her life's burden, for, as Maguire says, "To those
+doubting ones earth was a night season of gloom and darkness, and in the
+borderland they saw the dawn of day; and when the summons comes they are
+glad to bid farewell to the night that is past, and to welcome with joy
+and singing the eternal day, whose rising shall know no sunset."
+
+Many and many a time during that mourning week did Bessie, spent and
+weary with weeping, recall those words that her darling had uttered, "I
+don't want to get well, Bessie; I should have all the old miserable
+feelings over again." And even in her desolation Bessie would not have
+called her back.
+
+    "My Hatty has gone," she wrote to Edna, in those first days of
+    her loss. "I shall never see her sweet face again until we meet
+    in Paradise. I shall never hear her loving voice; but for her
+    own sake I cannot wish her back. Her life was not a happy one;
+    no one could make it happy, it was shadowed by physical
+    depression. She had much to bear, and it was not always easy to
+    understand her; it was difficult for her to give expression to
+    the nameless fears, and the strange, morbid feelings that made
+    life so difficult. She loved us all so much, but even her love
+    made her wretched, for a careless word or a thoughtless speech
+    rankled in her mind for days, and it was not easy to extract the
+    sting; she was too sensitive, too highly organized for daily
+    life; she made herself miserable about trifles. I know she could
+    not help it, poor darling, and father says so too. Oh, how I
+    miss her. But God only knows that, and I dare say He will
+    comfort me in His own good time. Mother is ill; she is never
+    strong, and the nursing and grief have broken her down, so we
+    must all think of her. Pray for us all, dear Edna, for these are
+    sorrowful days. I do not forget you, but I seem to look at you
+    through the mist of years; still, I am always your loving
+    friend,
+
+        "BESSIE."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+"I MUST NOT THINK OF MYSELF."
+
+
+Bessie's words to Edna had been strangely prophetical--"Trouble may come
+to me one day;" it had come already, in its most crushing form. The bond
+of sisterhood is very strong; it has peculiar and precious privileges,
+apart from other relationships; a sort of twinship of sympathy unites
+many sisters who have grown up together. Their thoughts and interests
+are seldom apart. All their little pleasures, their minor griefs,
+youthful hopes, disappointments, are shared with each other. They move
+together through the opening years of their life. Sometimes old age
+finds them still together, tottering hand in hand to the grave. Of all
+her sisters, Bessie could least spare Hatty, and her death left a void
+in the girl's life that was very difficult to fill. From the first,
+Bessie had accepted the responsibility of Hatty. Hatty's peculiar
+temperament, her bad health and unequal spirits, had set her apart from
+the other members of the family, who were all strong and cheerful and
+full of life.
+
+Bessie had realized this and had made Hatty her special charge and duty;
+but now there was a gap in her daily life, a sense of emptiness and
+desolation. There was no need now to hurry through her morning's task
+that she might sit with Hatty. When she went out, there was no Hatty to
+watch for her return and listen to all her descriptions of what she had
+seen. At night, when Bessie went upstairs, she would creep softly into a
+certain empty room, which was dearer to her than any other room. Hatty's
+little gowns, her few girlish possessions, were all locked away in the
+wardrobe; but her Bible and Prayer-book, and her shabby little
+writing-case, lay on the table. Bessie would pull up the blinds, and
+kneel down by the low bed; she liked to say her prayers in that room.
+Sometimes as she prayed the sense of her sister's presence would come
+over her strongly; she could almost feel the touch of the thin little
+hands that had so often toiled in her service. Hatty's large wistful
+eyes seemed to look lovingly out of the darkness. "Oh! my Hatty, are you
+near me?" she would sob; but there was no answer out of the silence.
+
+Who has not tasted the bitterness of these moments, when the craving for
+the loved presence seems insupportable, hardly to be borne? How our poor
+human hearts rebel against the unnatural separation, until the thrilling
+words make themselves heard: "He is not the God of the dead, but of the
+living." Oh, yes, of the living! Cease, then, to mourn, poor soul, as
+one without hope. Somewhere, not here, but in the larger room of a
+purified existence, your beloved one lives, breathes, nay, thinks of
+thee. Be comforted; one day we shall meet them, and the friendship of
+time will become the love of eternity.
+
+Bessie strove hard not to be selfish in her grief. Her mother's
+strength, never very great, had broken down utterly for a time. Bessie
+knew that this failure of power added to her father's anxiety, and in
+the most touching manner she tried to console them both. When she looked
+back at these sad days, Bessie owned that she had been marvellously
+helped and supported. With the day's burden had come daily strength to
+bear it.
+
+"I must not think of myself; I must think of father and mother," she
+would say, as she awoke in the morning with that blank sense of loss.
+"There is nothing to do for Hatty now, but there are others who need
+me." And this thought helped her through the day.
+
+In that busy household there was no time to sit alone and brood. A quiet
+walk now and then, and that half hour in Hatty's room, was all Bessie
+could conscientiously spare. If she stayed away for an hour, Christine
+complained of dullness, and her mother looked sadder on her return.
+Ella and Katie, too, made constant demands on her time and patience.
+Christine was very unlike Bessie in temperament. She was a pretty,
+bright girl, warm-hearted and high-spirited, but she did not possess
+Bessie's contented nature. Christine often found her quiet life irksome.
+She was inquisitive, restless, eager to see the world. She had
+insatiable curiosity; a love of change, her small girlish ambitions. She
+wanted to plume her wings a little--to try them in flights hither and
+thither. The gay world seemed to her ignorance a land flowing with milk
+and honey. She had yet to spell the meaning of the words illusion and
+vanity. Bessie was fond of Christine. She loved all her sisters dearly,
+but there was less sympathy between them than there had been between
+herself and Hatty.
+
+Hatty, in spite of her morbid humors and difficult tendencies, had a
+refined and cultured mind; her chief source of fretfulness was that she
+loved the best, and failed to reach it. The very loftiness of her
+standard produced despondency akin to despair.
+
+Hatty's faith was pure, but feeble. She hated everything false and mean.
+She despised the conventionalities of life, while Bessie laughed at
+them. She and Bessie had their ideals, their simple secrets, their crude
+girlish notions, that were nevertheless very true and sweet.
+
+Bessie could make allowances for Hatty's sharp speeches as she watched
+her daily struggles with her faulty temper. She could rejoice in Hatty's
+victories all the more that she had borne so patiently with her
+failures, and there was no abiding sting in her grief now, no remorseful
+feelings for duties undone and opportunities wasted; but with Christine
+things were different.
+
+One Sunday afternoon when Bessie was stealing away for a quiet half hour
+in Hatty's room, she was surprised to find Christine following her.
+
+"May I come in too, Bessie?" she said very humbly, and her eyes were
+full of tears; "I do so want a little comfort, and I can't talk to
+mother. I am making myself miserable about Hatty."
+
+"About our dear Hatty! Oh, Chrissy, what can you mean?" asked Bessie
+reproachfully. "We can talk here, and perhaps our poor darling may be
+listening to us. I do love this room; it seems to breathe of Hatty
+somehow. There, I will open the window. How sweet the air is? and look,
+how red the leaves are, though it is only the end of September!" And
+then she added, softly: "Hatty has been six weeks in her new home."
+
+"Oh, how I envy you, Bessie!" sighed Christine, "you can talk and think
+happily about our dear little Hatty, but with me it is all so different.
+If I had only been good to her, if she had not made me so impatient But
+I cannot help remembering how horrid I used to be." And here one tear
+after another rolled down Christine's pretty, troubled face.
+
+Bessie's soft heart grew very pitiful. "Dear Chrissy," she said gently,
+"there is no need to fret over that now. Hatty was always fond of you,
+and you of her; she told me that night, when I came home, how kind you
+had been to her. There was no one but you to do things, and you were
+such a comfort to her."
+
+"How could I help being kind to her, when she was so ill, and there was
+the fear of losing her? Somehow, I never thought there was much amiss
+with Hatty. I could not get it out of my mind that she always made the
+most of every little ailment, and that it was wrong of you and mother to
+give in to her. I never thought it would come to this." And Christine
+sobbed afresh.
+
+"Yes, I know what you mean; but, indeed, Chrissy, dear, you need not
+distress yourself so. Hatty forgave everything long ago; she was never
+one to bear malice--no, her nature was too sweet for that."
+
+"But I might have made her happier," persisted Christine. "I need not
+have minded her worrying so over every little trifle, but I was always
+losing patience, and getting vexed with her. I used to wonder at your
+bearing with her as you did, and I thought it a mistake to give way to
+all her humors. I never imagined that she was cross because she was
+suffering, but father says all her gloomy fancies and tiresome little
+ways came from her bad health."
+
+"I might have made her happier!" That speech went to Bessie's heart.
+"Listen to me, darling," she said eagerly; "think rather of how, by your
+waywardness, you have wounded the loving heart of Jesus, and sinned
+against Him. Let the sense of Hatty's loss send you to him in penitence
+for pardon. Nothing can now undo the past; but you can set yourself in
+the grace and strength which Jesus gives to do all in your power to make
+the lives of those around you happier. I do not want to make you more
+miserable, but what you have just said reminds me so of a passage I
+copied only the other day out of one of Tom's books; it was written by a
+man who failed in his own life, but was very gentle and very tolerant of
+other people. 'Oh, let us not wait,' he says, 'to be just, or pitiful,
+or demonstrative toward those we love, until they or we are struck down
+by illness, or threatened with death. Life is short, and we have never
+too much time for gladdening the hearts of those who are travelling the
+dark journey with us. Oh, be swift to love, make haste to be kind!' And
+then in another place he says, and that is so true, too, 'Never to tire,
+never to grow cold; to be patient, sympathetic, tender; to look for the
+budding flower and the opening heart, to hope always like God; to love
+always--this is duty.'"
+
+Christine made a despairing gesture. "It is a duty in which I have
+utterly failed," she said bitterly.
+
+"You think you might have been kinder to Hatty; that is just what Tom
+said of himself the other day. I am afraid many people have these sort
+of reproachful thoughts when they lose one they love. Everything seems
+different," she continued, in a musing tone; "we see with other eyes.
+Death seems to throw such a strange, searching light over one's life;
+big things are dwarfed, and little things come into pre-eminence; our
+looks and words and actions pass in review before us--we see where we
+have failed, and our successes do not comfort us."
+
+"But you, at least, are free from these thoughts, Bessie?"
+
+"Not entirely. There were times when I found Hatty trying, when she
+depressed me, and made me impatient. Indeed, Chrissy dear, we must
+remember that we are human, and not angels. None of us are free from
+blame; we have all failed in our turn. You have never been morbid
+before; try to forget the little everyday frictions, for which Hatty was
+to blame as well as you, and only remember how good you were to her in
+her illness--what a comfort to me as well as to her. 'Chrissy has been
+such a darling,' Hatty said to me one day."
+
+After all, Christine was quite willing to be comforted, and presently
+she dried her eyes.
+
+"You must let me talk to you sometimes, Bessie," she said; "it will do
+me good, because you have such a nice clear way of putting things, and
+you never mind trouble. I know I can't take Hatty's place, but if you
+will let me do things for you sometimes, and feel that I am a help, for
+we are sisters as much as you and Hatty were, and I want to get nearer
+to you somehow."
+
+"And so you shall, dear," replied Bessie, touched by this humility. "You
+must not think that I do not love you because Hatty was so much to me.
+There is nothing I would not do for you, Chrissy--oh, you may be sure of
+that;" and Bessie kissed her affectionately.
+
+This conversation made Christine happier, for she was a good-hearted
+girl, and her repentance was very real, and it strengthened Bessie in
+her resolve to do her best for them all. Sorrow is a great test of
+character; it makes the selfish more selfish, and hardens the proud, but
+Bessie grew softer under its influence. After all, Edna was right in
+saying that it was harder to suffer through one's own fault. An
+affliction that comes straight from God's hand (though, in one sense,
+all trouble is permitted by His providence) wounds, and yet heals at the
+same time, and Bessie was to learn this by degrees; and, after all, her
+cross was wreathed with the soft flowers of hope.
+
+One morning early in October Bessie had a most unexpected pleasure. She
+had just returned from a long walk, and was on her way to the
+morning-room in search of her mother, when Christine opened the
+drawing-room door and beckoned to her with a very excited face.
+
+"Do come in, Betty," she said, in a loud whisper that must have been
+distinctly audible inside the room. "What a time you have been! and
+there is a friend of yours waiting for you."
+
+Bessie quickened her steps, feeling somewhat mystified by Christine's
+manner, and the next moment she was face to face with Edna. Bessie
+turned very pale and could hardly speak at first for surprise and
+emotion; but Edna took her in her arms and kissed her.
+
+"My dear Bessie," she said softly; and then she laughed a little
+nervously, and it was not the old musical laugh at all--"are you very
+surprised to see me? Oh, it was a bright idea of mine. I have been
+visiting those same friends (I had returned from them that day, you
+know, when we were snowed up together). Well, when I saw Sheen Valley,
+all of a sudden the thought popped into my head that I would stop at
+Cliffe, and take a later train; so I telegraphed to mamma, who is in
+London, and now I have a whole hour to spend with you. Is not that
+nice?"
+
+"Very nice indeed. I am so glad to see you, Edna; but you are looking
+delicate; you have lost your color."
+
+"What nonsense!" with a touch of her old impatience. "You are as bad as
+mamma; she is always finding fault with me. People who live in glass
+houses should not throw stones at their neighbors. You do not look like
+yourself either, Bessie."
+
+"Oh, that is different," and Bessie's lips trembled a little; "I have
+gone through so much since we parted. I try to take it properly, and
+every one helps me, but I think I miss my Hatty more every day."
+
+"You want a change," returned Edna kindly, for she was much touched by
+the alteration in her friend's looks.
+
+Bessie had lost her pretty fresh color, and looked pale and subdued in
+her black dress; her gray eyes had a sad look in them, even her voice
+had lost its old cheery tones, and her very movements were quieter; the
+bright elasticity that had been her charm was missing now, and yet Edna
+thought she had never looked so sweet.
+
+"My poor little Daisy," she continued, "you have a crushed look. You
+want country air to revive you. Will you come to us? Mamma will be
+delighted; you are such a favorite of hers; and as for myself, I want
+you more than I can say."
+
+"Not yet; I could not leave mother yet," returned Bessie; but a faint
+color stole into her face. No, she could not leave her post, and yet it
+would have been nice to see The Grange again, and Richard's friendly
+face; he had been so kind to her; and there was Whitefoot, and the dear
+dogs, and the lanes would be full of hips and haws. "No, not yet; but I
+should like to come again one day."
+
+"Well, well, I will not tease you; bye and bye I will make another
+appeal, but if your mother be not well----" She paused, and then
+something of the old mischief came into her eyes. "You see I am
+improving, Bessie; I am not always trying to get my own way; my goodness
+makes mamma quite uneasy. I think she has got it into her head that I
+shall die young; all good young people die--in books. No, it was wrong
+of me to joke," as a pained look crossed Bessie's face. "Seriously, I am
+trying to follow your advice; but, oh! it is such hard work."
+
+"Dear Edna, do you think I do not see the difference in you?"
+
+"Am I different?" she asked eagerly, and a wistful look came into her
+lovely eyes. "Richard said the other day how much nicer I was; we are
+quite friends, Ritchie and I, now, and I won't let mamma be so hard on
+him. He was very kind to me when--when--Neville went away; he tells me
+about him sometimes, for once or twice he has seen him in London; but
+just fancy, Bessie, he never even asked after me. 'Are your people
+well?' That is all he said; but of course he will never forgive me; men
+are like that."
+
+"He may not think that you want to be forgiven," returned Bessie.
+
+Edna's color rose.
+
+"He will never know it," she said proudly; but the next moment her tone
+changed. "Oh, Bessie, what shall I do? Sometimes I am so miserable that
+I hardly know how I am to go on living. I never thought I should miss
+Neville like this, but I do--I do."
+
+"Do not think me unkind if I say that I rejoice to hear it; it proves
+how deep and real your affection was."
+
+"It was the only real part of me," was the reply. "Now it is too
+late, I have discovered it for myself. I never would let myself
+think seriously of my engagement. I liked Neville, and I meant to
+marry him one day, and that was all I thought about it; but now I
+see that the real feeling was there all the time, only choked up
+with rubbish, and I am quite sure that I could never care for any
+one else in the same way--never--never."
+
+"Poor Edna! it is very hard, and I am so sorry for you."
+
+But as Bessie spoke Christine came back into the room with a small tray
+of refreshments, and her mother followed, so she and Edna were obliged
+to break off the conversation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+"BESSIE'S SECOND FLITTING."
+
+
+Just before Edna left them Dr. Lambert came into the room. He seemed
+very pleased to see her, and at once offered to drive her to the
+station. Bessie was a little disappointed at this, for she had hoped to
+walk down with her friend; it would have given them time to finish their
+conversation; but Edna certainly looked tired, so she refrained from a
+dissenting word.
+
+Edna bade her good-bye very affectionately, and begged her to write to
+her frequently, and just before they reached the station she said a word
+or two to Dr. Lambert; would he spare Bessie to them bye and bye--not
+now, but a little later--for Oatlands was pleasant even in the winter?
+
+"Yes, bye and bye," he returned hastily; "but her mother cannot spare
+the girl now; she is not well; her strength has flagged since Hatty's
+death, and Bessie is mother's crutch; but later on you shall have her;
+and indeed she looks pale, and in need of change, and I shall be
+thankful to let her go." And when he reached the home he told them all
+of Edna's invitation to Bessie, and how he had answered her.
+
+Mrs. Lambert looked wistfully at her daughter.
+
+"You would like to go, Bessie; it would do you good, and indeed I am
+growing stronger every day. I would spare you willingly."
+
+"No, mother, I am not going to leave you just now. Why, you have not
+been down yet to breakfast. When you are quite well and strong I will
+think of it." And Bessie looked tenderly at her mother's thin, faded
+face.
+
+Perhaps it was not quite so thin as it was, not so pinched and anxious,
+but there was plenty of room for improvement; and though Mrs. Lambert
+sighed, she could not conscientiously own that she was well. But when
+she was alone with her husband, she spoke to him about Bessie's looks.
+
+"She is not like the same girl," she said sadly. "She feels darling
+Hatty's loss more than the others. What does it matter about me,
+Herbert? A mother must think of her children before herself."
+
+"Perhaps so," he replied rather dryly, "but it is my duty to think first
+of you, my dear Dora. We both love our children, and would willingly do
+our best for them. I am not blind to Bessie's looks; but she is really
+strong, and her health will not suffer."
+
+"No; but the change will do her good," she pleaded.
+
+"I do not doubt it, and I wish you were strong enough to spare her; but
+Bessie is young enough to wait a little. It is we who are growing old,
+my dear, and who need to be comforted quickly; the young have their life
+before them."
+
+But though the doctor expressed himself after this stoical fashion, he
+was very tender in his manner to Bessie, and though he would not have
+avowed it to his wife, he watched the girl narrowly, and often took her
+for drives, or contrived errands for her at the other end of the town.
+Nay, more, he became extravagant, and brought home books for her and
+Christine, bidding them improve their minds, and Bessie found herself
+the possessor of several nice books, not wholly instructive--for "Lorna
+Doone," and Miss Austen's "Emma," and "A Sister's Story," by Mrs.
+Craven, were among them.
+
+Bessie had other little surprises that pleased her greatly; every week
+or two a hamper came from Oatlands--new-laid eggs and cream, a chicken
+or two, and often a brace of partridges or a pheasant. Bessie, who was
+housekeeper, used to rejoice over the contents of these hampers; she
+knew the game would tempt her mother's sickly appetite. Many of Dr.
+Lambert's patients remembered that he had an invalid wife, and fruit and
+flowers and all sorts of delicacies found their way to the doctor's
+house, for the Lamberts were much respected in Cliffe, and even the poor
+people would step up with a couple of new-laid eggs from a speckled
+hen, or a pot of blackberry-jam, or a bottle of elderberry wine for Mrs.
+Lambert.
+
+"The world is very full of nice people," observed Bessie one day, when,
+near Christmas, she looked at the larder shelves fairly laden with good
+things. One kind friend had sent them a barrel of oysters. Aunt
+Charlotte's contribution had been a stock of apples that would last them
+half through the winter.
+
+The hamper from Oatlands had been unusually rich, for a turkey, and a
+great fat goose dangled from the ceiling, and Edna had added a rich cake
+and a packet of bonbons and chocolate for Ella and Katie. But the letter
+that accompanied it had made Bessie somewhat anxious. Edna had a cold, a
+severe cold, for she could not shake it off, and her mother had decided
+to take her to Brighton for a month or two. The doctor had recommended
+Hastings or Bournemouth as being warmer, but Edna had a fancy for
+Brighton, so her mother had taken a suite of rooms in the Glenyan
+Mansions--a big drawing-room overlooking King's Road and the sea, and a
+small dining-room leading out of it.
+
+    "And we have four bedrooms," wrote Edna, "for Richard proposes
+    to run down for a night or two now and then, and mamma suggests
+    an invitation to you. Do you think you could come, Bessie--that
+    your mother could spare you? We are going on the third of
+    January, and want you to join us a few days afterward. Do try,
+    there's a dear! My cold has made me so weak and miserable, and
+    the cough will not let me sleep properly at night, so of course
+    my life is not very pleasant. It will be such a comfort to have
+    you, for I never can talk to mamma; she frets herself into a
+    fuss over everything, and that makes me, oh, so impatient, I
+    should like to jump into the sea! But you are such a patient,
+    reasonable little creature, Daisy dear, and I am so fond of you.
+    Bye the bye, Richard has sent you a message. He was very
+    particular in repeating it more than once. Let me see; oh, this
+    is it: 'Do you not think that you owe some duty to your friends,
+    especially when they need you?' That he was sure you could do me
+    good, and that he hoped you would make every effort to come, if
+    only for my sake. Was that not kind and brotherly of him? But
+    then Richard is very much improved, too."
+
+Bessie hardly knew what she was to say in reply. Her mother was better,
+certainly; but she could not propose to leave her. She was much
+surprised when her father asked her that evening if no letter had
+accompanied the hamper, and on her replying in the affirmative, he
+coolly asked to see it.
+
+"Well," he said interrogatively, as he handed back the letter, "what
+answer do you propose to give, Bessie?"
+
+"I do not know; at least, I have not thought about it," she answered.
+
+Her father looked at her steadily.
+
+"You have never been to Brighton?"
+
+"Never, father."
+
+"So much the better; it will be all new to you. Sit down and write to
+Miss Edna at once, and tell her that you will be glad to spend a week or
+two with her and her mother. Let me see, what time did she say? The
+first week in January, that will fit in well. I am going up to town on
+the seventh, and we can travel together. That will do famously, will it
+not, mother?"
+
+"Do you think you can spare me, mother?" asked Bessie anxiously.
+
+And Mrs. Lambert answered without hesitation: "I certainly can and will
+spare you, Bessie, and I am very grateful to Mrs. Sefton for her
+invitation. My dear," as the girl still hesitated, "your father and I
+have long wished you to have a little holiday, so your mind may be quite
+at rest." And after this Bessie was satisfied.
+
+But it was with very different feelings that Bessie left her home in the
+mild-tempered sunshine of that January day, to those when, seven months
+ago, she paid her first visit to The Grange. Things had been well with
+her then; no trouble since her brother's death had checkered her bright,
+sunshiny existence. She had gone in holiday mood to seek fresh interests
+and new enjoyments; but now how utterly changed were her feelings! She
+could no longer look out upon the world through the rose-colored
+spectacles that youth generally wears. For the second time in her life
+she had been brought face to face with death, and the great reality had
+sobered her. A deep sense of responsibility, of the inner meaning of
+life, seemed to cast a weight of gravity over her. A bond of sympathy
+seemed to unite her with all those who were in sorrow; so many were
+unhappy, so many had lost their nearest and dearest. Oh, how she longed
+to comfort them all!
+
+Bessie was not one to speak of her feelings; the best of her life was
+out of sight. Only once she said to Christine, as they were walking home
+from church in the starlight:
+
+"People are very proud when their relatives achieve any worldly honor or
+attain to any rank, yet no one seems to feel an added dignity when any
+dear one has finished his or her earthly conflict most gloriously, and
+has won a heavenly crown. Why is it, Chrissy? Somehow it seems such an
+honor to me to feel I have a sister as well as a brother in heaven; it
+makes one more careful not to do anything unworthy of them."
+
+Bessie's gray eyes had a softer look in them than they had of old; her
+voice had grown more gentle. Mrs. Sefton, who was at the station, hardly
+recognized the girl as she came quickly toward her; the black dress and
+crape bonnet made her look older, but when she smiled it was the same
+Bessie.
+
+"My dear, are you very tired?" she asked, looking at her kindly. "It is
+such a cold evening that I dare not let Edna come with me, for her
+cough is still troublesome. I had some difficulty with her, but at last
+I got my way. Edna is not nearly so self-willed as she used to be." But
+here Mrs. Sefton sighed.
+
+"Do you think Edna is really better?" asked Bessie, when the carriage
+door was closed, and they drove away from the station.
+
+"I do not know," returned Mrs. Sefton, in a troubled voice. "Dr. Milton
+assures me that there is nothing radically wrong with her health, only
+want of tone and a severe cold; but I cannot feel comfortable about her.
+She is losing appetite and flesh, and her spirits are so variable. She
+is not happy, Bessie, and she cannot always hide her feelings from her
+mother. Richard says that we can do nothing; but how are we to go on
+like this?"
+
+Bessie hardly knew what to answer; she was full of sympathy for the
+anxious mother; she knew Edna was her one thought in life, and that no
+happiness was possible to her if her child suffered. They were in the
+King's Road now, and the brightly lighted shop-windows almost dazzled
+Bessie. On the opposite side she could see a dark line that was
+evidently the sea; a dull, heavy surging of waves broke on her ear; now
+and then the splash of the white surf was clearly visible.
+
+"Edna is young," she said vaguely; but, after all, there was scant
+consolation in this truism, for the young suffer very keenly; a sense
+of impatience, of injustice, aggravates their pain. The old accept their
+sorrows more meekly; their reason comes to their aid. "Man is born to
+trouble," they say, and the philosophy enables them to endure at least
+with some show of dignity.
+
+"Yes, she is young; perhaps she may be consoled," replied Mrs. Sefton,
+with another sigh; and then the carriage stopped. "Our rooms are on the
+first floor," observed Mrs. Sefton, as they stood in the large,
+brilliantly lighted hall, and she conducted Bessie up the staircase and
+down a narrow corridor, and then into a long, well-furnished
+drawing-room, where they found Edna.
+
+She was sitting on a low chair, looking at the fire, but she sprang up
+and welcomed Bessie warmly.
+
+"My dear little Daisy, how delighted I am to see you!" she said, with
+something of her old animation. "Mamma, is it not delicious to have her
+again? Sit down there; you look tired and cold, and I mean to wait on
+you. Mamma, the tea is all ready, and I am going to pour it out. Take
+off your warm jacket, Bessie; oh, and your bonnet too; and then you will
+look more like yourself."
+
+Bessie did as she was bidden, but her eyes followed Edna's graceful
+figure. How delicate she looked--far, far too pretty! She was almost
+dazzling to-night. The ruby velveteen set off her fair hair and white
+skin; her face was flushed, and her eyes were too bright; and as she
+moved about Bessie heard her cough once or twice--a hard, dry cough. But
+there seemed nothing wrong with Edna's spirits to-night. She was
+evidently overjoyed to have her friend with her again; she talked and
+laughed after her old fashion.
+
+"You will be sure to like this place, Bessie," she said. "The shops are
+delightful, and it is so amusing to see the people; and the sea is
+magnificent. I have my ponies here, so we can have plenty of drives; and
+there are some people that we know at the Bedford. We don't intend to
+mope, mamma and I; we are going to the grand bazaar at the Pavilion, and
+there are some first-rate concerts. But you shall be as quiet as you
+like," with a sudden change of tone, as Bessie looked grave; "your only
+duty will be to talk to me. Now I will show you your room, and you shall
+unpack and get ready for dinner."
+
+Bessie was not sorry to be left alone in her comfortable room. When she
+had finished her unpacking, she put on her best cashmere dress, with its
+soft white frilling, and fastened a few white flowers at her throat.
+Then she sat down before the fire, and had a quiet quarter of an hour
+before Edna came in search of her and carried her off.
+
+All the evening Edna was as merry as possible. She played several of
+her favorite pieces, and even sung a little; only as the evening drew to
+its close she began to have a white, exhausted look; but she followed
+Bessie into her room, and sat down on the rug, with the evident
+intention of having a talk.
+
+"Edna, you must not stay; you look far too tired," remonstrated Bessie;
+"and we shall have plenty of time for talk to-morrow."
+
+"But I like fireside talks best," replied Edna willfully; "and I am not
+inclined to sleep yet. I do hate the night!" with sudden petulance. "It
+is so stupid to lie awake and watch the fire go out, and count sheep
+jumping through a gap in the hedge; anything to cheat one's self into
+oblivion. Do you sleep well, Bessie?"
+
+"Yes, always; trouble never keeps me awake. I always think of Hatty when
+I lie down, and wonder what she is doing, and what the angels are
+teaching her, but I fall asleep in the middle of a thought, and it is
+morning before I wake."
+
+"Oh, you have a good conscience," replied Edna bitterly; "you have no
+remorseful thoughts to goad you into wakefulness. If one could only have
+one's life over again, Bessie? I want you to help me while you are here,
+to think what I had better do. I cannot go on like this. Is there
+anything that I can do? Any work? If it were not for mamma, I would go
+to some hospital and learn nursing; it is too dreadful living like this
+just to amuse one's self, and try to forget. I must do something,
+something for the good of myself, if not for my fellow-creatures."
+
+Bessie listened to her with some surprise. Edna's manner was excited;
+she looked feverish; her voice had a hard ring in it.
+
+"Tell me what I must do," she said, fixing her large eyes on Bessie.
+
+"Dear, you must get well first," replied Bessie tenderly. "You are far
+from strong; your mother is right, Edna."
+
+Edna shook her head impatiently.
+
+"It is nothing--a cold; what does it signify? How can one feel well with
+all these worrying thoughts? It is work that I want, Bessie--work that
+will take me out of myself and make me forget."
+
+"Are you sure that God wishes you to forget?" asked Bessie softly. "Oh,
+my dear," stroking her hand, "you can never say again that I do not know
+what trouble is, that I cannot feel for you; but I have learned that we
+must not run away from our trouble; girls so often talk like that," she
+went on, "about going into a hospital, but they do not know what they
+want. Nursing is too sacred a work to be done from such a motive. What
+good would such a work, undertaken in a selfish, self-seeking spirit, do
+them? Edna, when God wounds He heals, but it must be in His own time,
+and in the proper place; and even troubles caused by our own
+recklessness must come under this head."
+
+"But, Bessie----"
+
+"Wait a minute, dear; I seem to see it so clearly. You have work, only
+you are throwing it aside and asking for more. 'Thou earnest not to thy
+place by accident; it is the very place God meant for thee.' Don't you
+remember those lines? Surely, surely, an only daughter's place must be
+with her mother; to make her happy must be no light duty. You are her
+one thought from morning to night; it breaks her heart to see you
+unhappy. Edna, if your mother died, and you had not tried to make her
+happy!"
+
+"Do you mean--oh, I see what you mean, but I am too selfish to find it
+out for myself. I am only thinking of my own good, not of her at all. I
+have never been good to her; she gives all, and I just take it."
+
+"Make her your work," whispered Bessie, "and bye and bye comfort will
+come to you, as it would not in any hospital, in any self-chosen duty;
+for where God puts us, He must find us, or we shall have to give an
+account of why we have erred and strayed," finished Bessie reverently.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+ON THE PARADE.
+
+
+Bessie had spoken out of the simplicity of her honest heart; but there
+is a great power in earnestness, and her words were not to fall to the
+ground. In spite of Edna's faults, many and glaring as they were, she
+was very susceptible to good influences; her affection for Neville
+Sinclair proved this, as well as her friendship with Bessie; underneath
+the leaven of selfishness and self-will engendered by a false education
+there was a large margin of generosity and truth; if she were quick to
+sin, she was also quick to repent.
+
+Edna did not again allude to the subject of her unhappiness; there were
+no more fireside confidences with Bessie, but for two or three days she
+was very quiet and thoughtful, and there were no excited moods of
+merriment to jar on Bessie. She was gentle and affectionate in her
+manner to her mother, and this unusual docility seemed to add to Mrs.
+Sefton's uneasiness.
+
+Bessie did not feel comfortable in her mind about Edna; the old spring
+and elasticity seemed gone forever; there was manifest effort in
+everything she did through the day, and yet she never rested willingly.
+She laid out plans for every hour, she made appointments with her
+friends; every day there was driving, shopping, tea-drinking, often a
+concert or recitation to finish off the evening; but now and then, in
+the midst of a lively conversation, there would be the look of utter
+exhaustion on her face, and when her friends had left she would throw
+herself on the couch as though all strength had gone. On these
+occasions, when she was spent and weary, it was not always easy to
+control her irritability. Mrs. Sefton was not a judicious woman, and, in
+spite of her devotion to her daughter, she often showed a want of tact
+and a lack of wisdom that galled Edna's jaded spirits. She was always
+urging Edna to seek new distractions, or appealing to her sense of
+vanity.
+
+"Mamma thinks a new dress or ornament can make any girl happy," she said
+one day, with a curl of her lip; "but she is mistaken; I don't care
+about them now."
+
+One afternoon Mrs. Sefton had been lunching with a friend, and when she
+returned she brought Edna a present; it was a pin brooch set with
+brilliants, a most costly toy, and Edna had admired it in an idle
+moment; but as she opened the little case there was no pleased
+expression on her face.
+
+"Oh, mamma, why have you bought this?" she asked, in a dissatisfied
+voice.
+
+"You admired it so much, my darling, and so I thought I would please
+myself by giving you this surprise."
+
+"It is very pretty," holding it out for Bessie's inspection; "but I have
+more ornaments than I know how to use now. I am sorry you bought it,
+mamma; it must have cost so much money."
+
+"Do you think I begrudge you anything?" replied Mrs. Sefton, who was
+much chagrined by this reception of her gift.
+
+Edna looked up at this moment, and saw the disappointed look on her
+mother's face. Her better feelings were touched, and she threw her arms
+round her neck.
+
+"Mother dear, why will you load me so with things?" she remonstrated.
+"You give me everything, and I do nothing for you in return; please
+don't give me anything more for a long time. I am horribly discontented,
+nothing seems to give me pleasure; even this beautiful pin is wasted on
+me."
+
+"Don't talk so, Edna," returned her mother, with the tears in her eyes;
+"if you knew how it troubled me to hear you. There is nothing that I
+would not do to make you happy, but if you talk in that way you take all
+the spirit out of me."
+
+"Then I won't talk so any more," replied Edna, repentantly; and she
+fastened the brilliant pin in some lace she wore, and begged them both
+to admire it; and she was very affectionate to her mother all that
+evening, and seemed bent on making her smile.
+
+Mrs. Sefton looked almost happy that night; she thought Edna looked
+better and more like herself, and she had not coughed once, and no one
+knew that as the girl took off her trinket that night she suddenly hid
+her face in her hands and wept.
+
+"It is all no use, mother," she sobbed; "no money can buy me content nor
+make me good and happy; if I were only like Bessie--Bessie is worthy of
+him, but I never was--I never was!"
+
+When Bessie had been with her friends more than a week she began to
+wonder that there was no news of Richard, and one day she asked Edna if
+he were all alone at The Grange.
+
+"Yes, I believe so," was the careless answer; "but Richard is a regular
+old bachelor, and he will not be dull."
+
+"But he comes to see you sometimes?"
+
+"He has not been yet, but that is mamma's fault, and not Ritchie's; he
+wrote on Wednesday to say he was coming from Saturday to Monday, but
+mamma said she wanted the room for Miss Shelton, and after all, she did
+not come; so it was a pity Richard should be disappointed; and now Miss
+Shelton may come next week, and there is no room for him again. Mamma
+has just written to say that she cannot possibly have him until Saturday
+week."
+
+Bessie felt a pang of disappointment; she was going home on the
+Thursday, and would just miss him. What a pity! He had been so kind and
+friendly to her during her visit at The Grange, and she would have liked
+to have seen him. She wondered vaguely if he would be disappointed too
+when he heard that she had gone. It was thoughtless of Mrs. Sefton to
+invite Miss Shelton, but most likely she had done it on purpose to keep
+her stepson away. Edna had told her rather sorrowfully the other day
+that her mother did not understand Richard any better.
+
+"He is never at his ease with her, and so he never appears to advantage
+in her presence," she said. "Poor Ritchie! I am afraid he has a dull
+life at The Grange!"
+
+Bessie was afraid so too, but she dared not say so; she could only
+appeal to Edna's generosity, and beg her to consider that she owed a
+duty to her brother. But she could not say much on this point. A girl
+cannot well enter the lists on a young man's behalf; however sensible
+and free from nonsense she may be, she is bound by a sense of
+conventionality; and though in her heart Bessie was very sorry for
+Richard, very much interested in his behalf, she felt her pity must be
+kept to herself.
+
+Bessie was not ashamed to own her disappointment, and she was human
+enough to bear a grudge against the offending Miss Shelton, who proved
+to be an old governess of Edna's, and a most worthy woman.
+
+In consequence of Edna's temporary indisposition, which made her languid
+in the morning, the family breakfast was unusually late, and was rarely
+ready before ten. It was Bessie's habit, therefore, to go out, after an
+early cup of cocoa, for an hour's solitary walk; she enjoyed this more
+than any other part of the day. The Parade was almost deserted at the
+time, and she met few people. She loved to stroll down to the beach and
+watch the waves rolling on the shore; the cold, fresh air invigorated
+her, and her old color returned. Her mother would have been at rest
+about her if she could have seen the girl's strong, elastic step, or
+noticed how the sea breezes had brought back her fresh color. Bessie
+would return from these morning walks with refreshed spirits and
+vigorous, youthful appetite that Edna good-naturedly quizzed.
+
+"You would be hungry, too, if you had swallowed those delicious sea
+breezes," Bessie would answer, nothing daunted by these remarks, and she
+persevered in these early strolls.
+
+The morning after their little conversation about Richard, Bessie went
+out as usual. There had been rain during the night, and the seats on the
+Parade were soaking, but the sun was shining now, and the little pools
+in the road were sparkling in the warm sunlight, and the sea looked
+clear and blue.
+
+"What a delicious morning," thought Bessie, as she walked on briskly.
+"There is rather a strong wind, though. Oh, that gentleman has lost his
+hat!" The gentleman in question had been leaning on the railings,
+looking down on some boys playing on the shingle; but as his hat took to
+itself wings, and rolled playfully down the Parade, after the manner of
+hats, he followed it in quick pursuit. Happily, it rolled almost to
+Bessie's feet, and she captured it.
+
+"Thank you so much," observed the young man, gratefully; but as Bessie
+held it to him with a smile, they mutually started, and a simultaneous
+exclamation rose to their lips.
+
+"Mr. Sinclair!"
+
+"Miss Lambert!" and then rather awkwardly they shook hands. "Who would
+have thought of seeing you here?" went on Mr. Sinclair, rather
+nervously, as he brushed the wet from his hat. "But of course one meets
+every one at Brighton, so I ought not to be surprised. I only came down
+last night, and I have already exchanged greetings with half a dozen
+acquaintances. Have you been here long?"
+
+"About ten days. I am staying with the Sefton's at Glenyan Mansions.
+Mrs. Sefton and Edna are both here."
+
+"Edna here?" and then he bit his lip, and a dark flush crossed his face.
+"I hope Miss Sefton is quite well," he continued coldly.
+
+"Indeed she is not," returned Bessie bluntly. But this sudden encounter
+had taken her by surprise, and she hardly knew what she was saying. "She
+is very far from well. Oh, quite ill, I should say; though she will have
+it that there is nothing the matter. But she is so changed that she is
+hardly like the same girl. Oh, no; she is perfectly different; not like
+Edna at all, and----"
+
+"What has been the matter with her?" he asked abruptly; but he turned
+his face away as he put the question. They were both standing by the
+railings, and now he crossed his arms upon them, leaning heavily against
+them, so that Bessie could not see his face. There was no one in sight,
+except the boys playing beneath them, and an old man hobbling on
+crutches. "What has been the matter with her?" he repeated, as Bessie
+hesitated.
+
+"She caught cold, and could not shake it off, and so her mother got
+frightened about her, and brought her here. But it does not seem to do
+her much good. It is her spirits, I think, for she has lost all her fun,
+and she is not at all like the old Edna, and it grieves me to see her,"
+stammered Bessie, confused at having said so much, and yet not willing
+to be silent. "What can I say? What ought I to do for them both?" she
+thought, in much distress.
+
+"There has never been anything wrong with her spirits before," replied
+Mr. Sinclair, in rather an incredulous tone. But Bessie had caught sight
+of his face; it was quite pale now, and he was pulling his mustache
+nervously, and she was not a bit deceived by his voice. "Do you mean
+that she is not happy? I hope--that is--I trust nothing has occurred to
+trouble her."
+
+"Nothing fresh. Oh, Mr. Sinclair!" and here Bessie burst out, regardless
+of conventionality, of probable consequences, of everything but her
+honest heart. "Why do you not understand what it is that ails Edna? If
+you do not know, no one can--no one--no one;" and then, frightened at
+her own audacity, Bessie colored up to her forehead and walked on; but
+Mr. Sinclair was by her side the next moment.
+
+"Don't go, Miss Lambert. Please do not leave me yet. Tell me plainly
+what it is you mean. You are Edna's friend, and I know you will be true
+to her. You have a good heart. I see in your eyes that you are sorry for
+me; do not be afraid to speak out. Why am I to know what is the matter
+with Edna?"
+
+"That is a strange question for you to ask; surely you know Edna well
+enough to be aware how deeply she can repent of her faults!"
+
+"Do you mean--speak plainly, I beseech you; do you--can you mean that
+Edna repents of her cruel treatment of me?"
+
+"Repents! Of course she has repented. Mr. Sinclair, you were very wrong
+to leave her. Why did you take her at her word? It was all temper; her
+pride was piqued because she believed herself distrusted. I know Edna so
+well; in spite of her faults, she is true and generous. When she loves,
+she loves once and forever; if she sent you away, she has been sorry for
+it ever since. What must you think of me for telling you this? I am so
+ignorant of the world, most likely I have acted foolishly, but it seems
+to me that truth is everything."
+
+"I think that you have acted nobly, Miss Lambert; you have made me your
+debtor for life, if this be true;" and then he stopped and passed his
+hand across his forehead, as though the sudden relief had bewildered
+him. "Oh, thank God!" she heard him say, as though to himself.
+
+"It is true."
+
+"I will believe it; I can trust you; my good angel brought me out this
+morning. The last seven months have not been the happiest time in my
+existence. I had my own trouble to bear, and then my mother fell ill. I
+thought I should have lost her, but I was spared that; still, her life
+hangs on a thread. I am afraid from your deep mourning that you have
+been in trouble, too, Miss Lambert."
+
+"I have lost a dear sister."
+
+"That is sad; but you have other sisters left to comfort you."
+
+"Yes; three."
+
+"I had no one but my mother and Edna; I should have been lonely indeed.
+But now I must not keep you standing any longer; the wind is cold, and
+you are beginning to look tired."
+
+"Yes, and breakfast will be ready; I must not be late."
+
+"Is Sefton with you?" he asked suddenly.
+
+"No; he is at Oatlands; he is not coming until Saturday week."
+
+"I am sorry to hear it; he would have helped me in a great difficulty.
+Sefton has always been my friend. Miss Lambert, I confess I don't
+clearly see my way. I can hardly present myself at Glenyan Mansions, and
+yet how am I to see Edna? If we could only meet, as it were,
+accidentally, it would be better for both of us."
+
+"I see what you mean," returned Bessie, whose ready sympathy made her
+quick to detect his meaning "Edna is very proud; you think it would be
+wiser to leave her in ignorance of this interview. Yes, you are right;
+there must be some other way;" and then, after a moment's consideration,
+she added, "There is a fancy bazaar at the Pavilion this afternoon; some
+friends of the Sefton's are stall-holders, and we are all going; every
+one will be there; why should you not go too?"
+
+"Thank you," was all he said; but his face brightened perceptibly, and
+then in an eager tone: "What time will you go?"
+
+"Mrs. Sefton said she should order the carriage at half-past three, so I
+suppose we shall be there about a quarter to four. The Crawfords' stall
+is at the end of the room, and Minnie and Eleanor Crawford are to be
+dressed in sacques and hoops, with powdered hair, in the fashion of
+George III.'s time. Edna is very anxious to see their stall in its first
+glory, before there is a rush of buyers."
+
+"You have made me your friend for life," he said lightly. "I must not go
+any farther, for I see the windows of Glenyan Mansions;" and then he
+shook hands with her, and quietly retraced his steps to his hotel.
+
+"I wonder if mother would be shocked," thought Bessie. "I think I should
+have been shocked myself under any other circumstances; but when I
+thought of poor Edna, and saw him looking so pale and grave, I felt I
+must help them both. Was it very forward of me? Have I betrayed Edna's
+confidence? But, no; I found it all out for myself; surely, no one could
+blame me for speaking the truth. If Mr. Richard were here, I would ask
+him. Truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, after all. One
+cannot be wrong if only one be absolutely true."
+
+Bessie found it very difficult to preserve her ordinary demeanor that
+morning. The consciousness that she had a secret oppressed her, but
+neither Mrs. Sefton nor Edna seemed to notice any difference in her
+manner. Edna looked languid and depressed, and seemed to have lost all
+interest in the bazaar. She alarmed Bessie in the course of the morning
+by saying that, after all, she did not care to mix with such a crowd.
+
+"Oh, Edna, I shall be so disappointed if we do not go!" exclaimed
+Bessie.
+
+"My dear, I was not talking about you," replied Edna wearily. "Mamma
+will go, of course, and you can accompany her; but I am sick of bazaars,
+and the noise and chatter will make my head ache. You may take my purse,
+Bessie, and buy something of Minnie and Eleanor;" and Edna threw down
+her work and began looking over the batch of novels that her mother had
+sent in from the circulating library, leaving Bessie to digest her
+dismay and disappointment as well as she could.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+BESSIE BUYS A JAPANESE FAN.
+
+
+Edna continued in this unsatisfactory mood until luncheon. Nothing
+pleased her. The novels were stupid. She was tired of love tales--why
+could not people find something else to write about? She was sick of
+such namby-pamby sentimentality; and then they were so untrue to life.
+Stories in real life did not always end happily, or there would not be
+so many old maids in the world.
+
+"Single women, Edna; I like that term ever so much better."
+
+"No; old maids," persisted Edna, obstinately; "cross, cranky old maids."
+
+"Old maids, as you call them (and you are very rude to a lot of good,
+nice women, Edna), are not necessarily cross and cranky; the unmarried
+women I know are all busy, cheerful creatures, full of life and energy,
+and very useful in their generation. Father says he always enjoys a talk
+with an unmarried lady; so many of them keep their freshness and youth,
+even though they have wrinkles on their faces. I know some of them get
+soured and narrow, but perhaps they have had much to try them."
+
+"Bessie, I do believe you will be an old maid yourself, some day."
+
+"Your prophecy does not frighten me in the least If I am to be an old
+maid, I mean to be a very happy one. You know, Edna, how often I have
+talked to you of my dear Mr. Robertson. Well, he said something on this
+subject in one of his sermons that pleased me very much. I remember dear
+Hatty liked it too. I cannot recollect the exact words, but it was to
+this effect--that much of our happiness depends on the way we look on
+life; that if we regard it as a complete and finished existence, then no
+doubt those who fail in their aims are disappointed and discontented. In
+this the unmarried and childless woman, and the widow who has lost her
+treasure, will be agreed; but if we regard our present existence as only
+a prelude to a better--as an education, a training for a high and
+happier sphere--then the disappointed may take heart, for they have only
+come to the beginning of their life, and may surely wait with some
+degree of patience until a future life expands their happiness. Grown-up
+people do not want their sugar-plums all at once, as children do--don't
+you see it, Edna?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I know what you good people mean." But she spoke with a
+degree of pettishness. "But I have not climbed as high as you, and I
+shall be a shriveled, cantankerous old maid."
+
+"You will be nothing of the kind," replied Bessie, kissing her. "But
+luncheon is ready, and here comes your mother; pray, don't say anything
+to her about not going to the Pavilion, or she will be so disappointed;
+she never enjoys anything without you." And to her great relief Edna
+acquiesced.
+
+Mrs. Sefton talked a great deal about the bazaar during luncheon. The
+Tozers and Lady Hampton were going, and she had heard that Minnie
+Crawford's costume was perfect, and suited her admirably.
+
+"I suppose I had better go and get ready," observed Edna, pushing back
+her chair, "or mamma will never survive the disappointment. The carriage
+will be here at half-past three." And she marched out of the room with
+rather a bored expression on her face.
+
+"Nothing pleases her," complained Mrs. Sefton; "she seems tired of
+everything. I believe she is only going to the bazaar because she thinks
+it will give me pleasure; and the crowd and hot room will make her ill.
+Run after her, Bessie, and beg her not to go. You and I will do very
+well together, and we can choose something pretty for her off the
+Crawford's stall. I would rather she did not go, I would indeed."
+
+"It will do her good," pleaded Bessie; "the room will not be crowded
+just at first, and it will be such a pretty sight. She would be dull if
+we left her at home and the drive will refresh her."
+
+"Do you think so?" returned Mrs. Sefton doubtfully. "But I am beginning
+to lose heart; nothing we can do seems to please her. I believe she is
+getting tired of Brighton; last night she said she wished we were at
+home; but Oatlands is far too quiet for her. I think I shall take rooms
+in town for the season, and afterward we will go abroad. The Crawford's
+are going to the Engadine, and they are lively young people, and their
+society will be good for Edna. Perhaps," looking at Bessie wistfully,
+"your mother might be induced to spare you, and we could take you with
+us. You have never seen Switzerland, Bessie?"
+
+"No, none of us have ever been abroad. Oh, it would be too delightful!"
+but as Bessie went off smiling to get ready for the drive, she told
+herself that any Swiss journey would be very dubious. "That is one of
+the things one has to long for all one's life," thought Bessie, "one of
+the denied good things that are to come presently."
+
+Edna came down to the carriage looking quite bright and pretty; she was
+no longer in a misanthropic mood, the mere exertion of dressing to
+please her mother had done her a world of good. It was a brilliant
+afternoon and already groups of well-dressed people were moving in the
+direction of the Pavilion. "There are the Tozers, mamma!" she exclaimed
+beginning to look interested; "and there is Lady Hampton in that
+victoria; she has her old bonnet on; what a dear old dowdy she is! I
+tell you what, Bessie, I mean to dress well, even when I am a cranky old
+maid; there is a great support in clothes--and--no, it can't be----"
+
+"Well, finish your sentence," observed Bessie. "Have you seen a ghost,
+Edna?" laughing rather nervously, for Edna had changed color in a
+singular manner.
+
+"No, only a likeness; but of course I was mistaken;" but, all the same,
+Bessie knew that Edna had really seen Mr. Sinclair, however much she
+might doubt the evidence of her eyes. She had caught a glimpse of him,
+too--he was on his way to the Pavilion with the other people.
+
+Edna did not recover herself in a hurry; she looked white and shaken;
+the likeness must have been a strong one, and brought back the past too
+vividly. Bessie glanced at her anxiously. Certainly, Edna's looks
+verified her words. Mr. Sinclair would read the truth for himself. They
+had arrived at the Pavilion now, and Mrs. Sefton and Edna were already
+exchanging greetings with their friends.
+
+"Does it not look like a picture of Vanity Fair?" she whispered, when
+they at last made their way into the bazaar.
+
+Well, it was a curious sight, certainly; a young man with powdered hair,
+in a blue velvet coat, offered them programmes of the entertainment; a
+little Moorish girl, with a necklace of gold coins, showed them her
+flower-basket, and a stately Queen Elizabeth smiled at Edna across the
+counter. A harlequin and a cavalier mounted guard over the post-office,
+and a gypsy presided over a fish pond. Mary Stuart and a Greek lady were
+in charge of the refreshment stall. It was a relief when the band struck
+up one of Strauss' waltzes, and drowned the din of voices; but as the
+sad, sweet strains of "Verliebt und Verloren" floated through the room,
+a pained expression crossed Edna's face.
+
+A moment later Bessie felt her arm grasped, and Edna whispered
+excitedly:
+
+"Look, Bessie; is it my fancy--that gentleman standing by the
+flower-stall--is it----"
+
+"Yes, it is Mr. Sinclair," returned Bessie calmly. "Oh, he sees us now;
+he is coming to speak to us. Dear Edna, please don't look so pale over
+it; you surely do not mind seeing him."
+
+But Edna was beyond answering; there was not an atom of color in her
+face as Mr. Sinclair came up to them and lifted his hat.
+
+It was very odd that just at that minute Bessie was seized with an
+uncontrollable longing to become the possessor of a Japanese fan. It was
+excessively dear and excessively ugly, and the young person in the
+Catherine de Medicis ruff who was in charge of that part of the stall
+was otherwise engaged; nevertheless, Bessie would not give up her point.
+Mrs. Sefton was on the other side of the room, talking to Lady Hampton;
+and though it was clearly Bessie's duty to remain with Edna, she was
+perfectly blind to the fact; she did not even wait to greet Mr.
+Sinclair, but turned her back on him in the rudest manner, and kept her
+eyes on the gaudy specimen of Japanese art.
+
+It was ten minutes before the coveted article was in her possession, and
+even then the stall seemed to fascinate her, and she was just making up
+her mind that a certain little blue vase would please Christine when
+Mrs. Sefton touched her arm.
+
+"My dear child, why have you hidden yourself? and what has become of
+Edna?"
+
+"Edna?" looking round; but there was clearly no vestige of her, or of
+Mr. Sinclair either. It was easy to escape detection in that crowd. "She
+was here just now. Mr. Sinclair was with her, and----"
+
+"Neville here!" in intense surprise.
+
+"Yes; and Edna seemed rather upset at seeing him, and so I left them."
+
+"You have taken my breath away," exclaimed Mrs. Sefton. "Oh, Bessie, do
+you think---- Come and let me sit down somewhere; my sight-seeing is
+over What did he say to her? How did they meet? Did he speak first?"
+
+"Don't ask me; I know nothing," replied Bessie, with an odd little
+laugh. "She pointed him out to me, and asked if it were her fancy; and
+then he saw us, and Edna looked very white, and he held out his hand and
+said something; and then there was that Japanese fan, and of course, I
+heard nothing more."
+
+"You left them. That was right; you were very sensible, my dear."
+
+"Let me tell you everything," said Bessie, feeling burdened by her
+secret. "I have seen Mr. Sinclair before; I met him on the Parade, and
+it was I who told him to come here." And she related the purport of her
+conversation with him.
+
+Mrs Sefton seemed much moved. "It will come right;" she said, in an
+agitated voice. "My poor child will be happy again. Bessie, I cannot
+tell you how grateful I am to you. I love Neville like a son. It is the
+wish of my heart to see Edna his wife. He has brilliant prospects. He is
+a rising man, and immensely clever; and Edna will never care for any one
+else."
+
+Bessie forgave this worldly speech on account of the motherly tone in
+which it was said.
+
+"He must have taken her away; they are certainly not in this room," she
+said bye and bye. "Perhaps they are in the gardens; they will be quieter
+there."
+
+"Never mind, we will not look for them. You must amuse yourself, Bessie,
+until they come of their own accord. Suppose we buy something at the
+Crawfords' stall. I want you to choose something pretty for each of your
+sisters. Throw that hideous fan away! It is not worth sixpence. Where
+did you pick up such an ugly thing?"
+
+"It was the first handy article," replied Bessie. "Throw it away! No
+indeed! I shall keep it forever as a memento of this day."
+
+But Mrs. Sefton, in high good-humor, vowed that she should have a
+prettier remembrance of the day than that. A few minutes afterward she
+put a lovely little work-case in Bessie's hands. It was fitted up very
+tastefully, and was really a most useful present; and then she proceeded
+to select work-bags and pretty knick-knacks for the Lambert girls.
+
+Bessie remonstrated in vain. Mrs. Sefton had come there to spend money,
+and she lavished one article after another on Bessie.
+
+"This soft white shawl will just suit your mother," she said. "And, oh!
+here is a pocketbook for Dr. Lambert. Your father will find that useful.
+Does your brother smoke? No? Well, we will buy that letter-case for him;
+and now I think we have finished."
+
+But it was quite half an hour afterward before the truants returned.
+
+"Here they come!" exclaimed Bessie, as Mrs. Sefton began to get
+restless.
+
+"Oh, mamma, dear, I hope we have not kept you," said Edna penitently;
+but she blushed very prettily as she spoke, and there was no mistaking
+the happy look in her eyes.
+
+"You must blame me, Mrs. Sefton," interrupted Mr. Sinclair, who also
+looked radiant. "There was such a crowd that I took Edna into the
+gardens, and we have been sitting quietly under the trees. I hope we
+have not really inconvenienced you and Miss Lambert."
+
+"Not a bit," replied Mrs. Sefton cheerfully. "But we may as well go home
+now, as Bessie and I have made all our purchases. Will you see if the
+carriage be there, Neville?"
+
+"Neville is coming back with us, mamma," observed Edna, in her old
+bright manner; and then Mrs. Sefton looked at her meaningly. Just then
+the band struck up with a military march, and Bessie lost Edna's low
+answer. There was nothing particular said during the drive home. Mr.
+Sinclair observed he must go to his hotel to dress, and Edna questioned
+Bessie about her purchases.
+
+When they reached Glenyan Mansions, Edna shut herself up with her
+mother, and Bessie went off to her own room and inspected her treasures,
+and then she dressed herself and sat down to read. Bye and bye there
+was a knock at the door, and Edna came in; she looked perfectly lovely
+with that soft look of happiness on her face.
+
+"May I come in, Bessie? Mamma is talking to Neville in the drawing-room,
+and I can spare you a few minutes. Neville has told me everything. He
+says it is you who smoothed the way for our meeting and reconciliation.
+Bessie, darling, how am I to thank you?" and Edna wrapped her arms round
+her and kissed her fondly.
+
+"It is all right, then?"
+
+"It was all right the moment I saw him; he just looked at me, and said,
+'I wonder if you are glad or sorry to see me, Edna?' and I managed to
+gasp out the word 'Glad!' And then he took my hand and asked me to come
+out of the crowd, and let him talk to me quietly. It seemed to me we
+understood each other at once."
+
+"Dear Edna, I congratulate you from my heart."
+
+"Yes, and it is all owing to you; we shall neither of us forget that.
+Bessie, you don't half know how good Neville is, how gentle and generous
+he has been. He would not let me humble myself, or ask for his
+forgiveness. But, oh, he has been so unhappy! His mother has been nearly
+dying, poor fellow, and I never knew it; and even now her health is in a
+critical state. It is so sad for him, for he dotes on her, and they are
+everything to each other. He says if it had happened, and he had not
+had me to comfort him, it would almost have broken his heart."
+
+"But he will have you now."
+
+"Yes, and it must be my one thought to make up to him for these wretched
+seven months. Do you know, Bessie, he seems more distressed about me
+than about himself. He says I am quite altered, so thin and pale. He
+said it so gravely that I asked him if I had grown too plain for his
+taste; but there--I don't mean to repeat his answer."
+
+"He will soon find out that you are as vain as ever."
+
+"I actually told him so, for he was so depressed at my changed
+appearance that I had to make one or two mischievous speeches just to
+rouse him, and that did him good; he punished me, though, by pointing
+out some of his gray hairs; but he has really grown handsomer, Bessie.
+Mamma said so, too, though Neville was never really handsome. Poor
+mamma! she is so happy, she has been crying for joy."
+
+The dinner-bell rang at that moment, and they were obliged to break off
+their talk. Mr. Sinclair had evidently found Edna's absence irksome, for
+he met her with a reproach at her delay; but she answered him so sweetly
+that he was mollified in a moment.
+
+It was the happiest evening Bessie had had since Hatty's death; it was
+such a relief to see Edna's face bright with smiles, and to hear the
+satisfied tones of her voice, and to meet the quiet look of content on
+Mr. Sinclair's face. He was not a demonstrative man, and a stranger
+would hardly have thought his manner lover-like, but it was evident that
+he and Edna understood each other perfectly. After dinner he asked her
+to sing for him, and she went to the piano at once.
+
+"This is your favorite song, Neville," she said, looking at him quietly,
+and a flush of pleasure crossed his face. If he had ever doubted the
+reality of her affection for him, he could not have doubted it to-night,
+when every moment her gentleness and soft, appealing manner seemed to
+plead for forgetfulness of the past, and to hold out a safer promise for
+the future.
+
+"I must come and see your mother," Bessie heard her say later on. "Mamma
+thinks of taking rooms for the season, and then I shall see her often;
+shall you like that, Neville?"
+
+"There is only one thing I should like better," he replied, and there
+was a smile on his face as he got up and wished them good-night; and
+then he said something in a low voice to Edna.
+
+"Very well," she answered, with a bend of her graceful head, and she
+rose from her seat and walked to the door.
+
+Mrs. Sefton looked after them with an indulgent smile.
+
+"He wants a word with her alone; Edna won't refuse him anything
+to-night. How happy they are, Bessie! Dear Neville is so satisfied; he
+told me that he was struck with the improvement in Edna; he thinks her
+so much more womanly and so gentle, but he is troubled about her
+delicacy; but she will get better now all this worry is at an end." And
+Bessie acquiesced in this.
+
+When Edna came back, a little while afterward, she went straight to her
+mother and knelt down by her chair.
+
+"Mother dear," she said, tenderly, "Neville has forgiven me, and you
+must forgive me, too."
+
+"I forgive you my darling!" in a startled tone.
+
+"Yes, for being such a bad daughter; but I will be good; indeed, I will
+be good now;" and, worn out with the emotions of the day, Edna laid her
+head on her mother's lap and burst into tears.
+
+Bessie, touched to the heart by this little display of feeling, went
+softly out of the room, and left the mother and child together.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+MRS. SEFTON HAS ANOTHER VISITOR.
+
+
+It was impossible for Neville Sinclair to tear himself away from
+Brighton for another twenty-four hours, so he telegraphed to his mother
+and made arrangements to take another day's holiday. He settled this
+before he slept that night, and presented himself at Glenyan Mansions
+long before the late breakfast was over. He and Bessie exchanged an
+amused glance as they shook hands, which was instantly detected by Edna,
+and she at once insisted on an explanation.
+
+Mr. Sinclair laughed mischievously.
+
+"The fact is," he said, "Miss Lambert and I have met before this
+morning;" which was the truth, for Bessie had encountered him coming out
+of his hotel, and they had spent a pleasant hour together talking about
+many things; and this conversation had raised Mr. Sinclair very much in
+Bessie's estimation, and her interest was warmly reciprocated.
+
+"You have never had a friend I liked so well as I do Miss Lambert," he
+said, as he and Edna were walking together. "She is a genuine
+girl--absolutely true, and without any pretense or nonsense."
+
+"Daisy is a dear little thing, and I am as fond of her as possible. I am
+so glad you like her, Neville," and Edna looked very pleased.
+
+Mr. Sinclair left on the following morning, and in the afternoon Miss
+Shelton arrived. She was a pleasant-looking woman, with a tranquil face
+and silvery-gray hair, and Bessie was prepossessed in her favor at once.
+She was evidently warmly attached to her old pupil, and the news of her
+reconciliation with her lover filled her with unbounded satisfaction,
+and her congratulations were very hearty.
+
+"I have lived a great many years in the world," she said, "but I have
+never seen two better young men than Mr. Sinclair and Mr. Richard."
+
+They were sitting round the fire in the twilight as Miss Shelton made
+this little speech; they had come in from their drive half an hour ago;
+the tea things had just been taken away, and Edna was sitting on the rug
+at Miss Shelton's feet.
+
+"They are both admirable," she murmured; and this encomium on the absent
+Richard gratified Bessie.
+
+"I don't think they are to be compared," observed Mrs. Sefton, rather
+superciliously. "My dear Miriam, Neville is infinitely superior. Richard
+has not got Neville's brains."
+
+"Cleverness is not everything," replied Miss Shelton. "I respect Mr.
+Sinclair, and have the highest opinion of his abilities; but Mr. Richard
+has always been a favorite of mine. Very few people guess how much he
+has in him; but I found it out myself a long time ago."
+
+"You and Ritchie were always good friends, dear Miss Shelton. Hush! I
+hear some one in the corridor; it cannot be Neville come back;" and Edna
+sprung up from her low seat with a heightened color; but as the door
+opened her voice fell. "No, it is only Ritchie," in a disappointed tone.
+
+"Whom were you expecting, Edna?" asked her brother, advancing toward the
+fireside circle. "Your tone does not sound very promising for me.
+Mother, you see I have taken you by surprise. Miss Shelton, I am
+delighted to see you again. How do you do, Miss Lambert?" with a swift
+glance in her direction.
+
+Bessie greeted him quietly, and went back to her corner; the surprise
+was a very pleasant one for her. Richard looked well, and more animated
+than usual.
+
+"I thought we arranged that you were not to come until to-morrow week,
+Richard," observed Mrs. Sefton, in her usual cold manner: and it was
+evident that she was not pleased at her stepson's arrival. "I told you
+particularly Miss Shelton was coming this week."
+
+"Oh, yes, I knew Miss Shelton would be here; but Saturday week would not
+have suited me at all. I don't mean to put you out, mother. I have taken
+a room at the Grand Hotel. I can have my meals there, too, if you like."
+
+"Nonsense, Ritchie!" returned Edna, good-humoredly; "our dining-room is
+not so small as that. You may have your breakfast at your hotel, and
+then spend the rest of the day with us. Miss Shelton will be delighted
+to have you; she was singing your praises just now."
+
+"I saw Neville in town this afternoon," observed Richard, with a
+significant glance at his sister. "'All's well that ends well,' eh,
+Edna? So the comedy of errors is played out."
+
+"Come into the other room and I will tell you all about it," replied
+Edna, taking hold of his arm in a friendly fashion. "Mamma, I suppose
+there is enough dinner for Richard, but I don't mean to let him go
+away."
+
+"Neither do I mean to go," added Richard, with a laugh, as he allowed
+himself to be led out of the room.
+
+"How well he looks! older and nicer, I think," observed Miss Shelton, as
+the young people left the room.
+
+"Do you think so?" replied Mrs. Sefton, indifferently. "Richard is
+always terribly boorish in appearance; and as to his manners, nothing
+will polish them. But what can you expect, when he affects the company
+of farmers? Neville is worth a hundred of him," she continued, as she
+rose, with a discontented expression, to give some further orders.
+
+Miss Shelton shook her head in a disapproving fashion.
+
+"What a mistake," she said quietly, "always to undervalue that poor boy!
+I am glad to see Edna is improved in that respect. He is a great
+favorite of mine, Miss Lambert. I found out he had a kind heart when I
+was in trouble once. As Edna says, we are great friends."
+
+"He is very nice," agreed Bessie, and then she went to her room to
+prepare for dinner. Yes, she was very glad he had come, though the sight
+of his familiar face had brought back the memory of that last sad day at
+The Grange. They had not met for seven months; how much had happened
+since then!
+
+But when the evening was over, she was obliged to confess that it had
+somehow disappointed her. Richard had said very little to her. Miss
+Shelton had engrossed his conversation; he hardly looked in Bessie's
+direction.
+
+When dinner was over, and Edna went to the piano, he placed himself
+beside her; but he did not ask Bessie to sing. She sat at her work, and
+tried to think that she was enjoying herself, but she felt left out in
+the cold; she missed the old friendliness in Richard's manner; she
+wondered why he did not ask about her home. Could a few months have
+cooled his friendship? When she bade him good-night he hardly looked at
+her; he shook hands far more cordially with Miss Shelton.
+
+Bessie felt chilled and depressed, for she was a faithful little soul,
+and was true to all her likes and dislikes; fickleness to her friends
+was not in her nature; if she liked a person she liked him or her
+always.
+
+"It is very strange, very disappointing. I think I would rather he had
+not come," she thought; "but perhaps he will be nicer to-morrow;" and
+with this vague hope she fell asleep.
+
+The next morning she was out at her usual time, and, as before, the
+crisp morning air seemed to dispel all uneasy thoughts; she felt
+brighter, more sanguine and cheerful than she had last night. Nature
+holds a store of comfort for those who love and seek her--she has all
+sorts of balmy messages to give them; a thousand mellow influences steal
+upon the jaded consciousness; hope is written legibly in the blue sky,
+the clear air, the sunshine; every flower, every leaf is a token of
+love; the birds sing, and, in spite of ourselves, our hearts grow
+lighter.
+
+"It must have been my fancy," thought Bessie; "I hope I am not growing
+self-conscious;" and then she gave a little start of surprise, for
+surely she knew that brown tweed coat, and there was Richard coming to
+meet her; and it was with his old pleasant smile that he greeted her.
+
+"What a lovely morning, Miss Lambert! I knew you would be out." He had
+expected her then. "Miss Shelton is an early riser, too, but she never
+walks before breakfast. I wanted to find you alone, and to tell you that
+I was at Cliffe the day before yesterday."
+
+"At Cliffe?" And Bessie raised her clear eyes to his with such intense
+surprise that Richard laughed a little nervously.
+
+"I had some business there," he began awkwardly, "and I wanted to see
+your father. I saw them all," hesitating, "except your brother--he has
+gone back to Oxford; they were very well, and sent their love."
+
+"And you saw mother?"
+
+"Yes; what a nice woman she is! I like her so much, and your father too;
+they were very kind--kinder than I expected. You are a little like your
+mother--at least, I saw a sort of likeness. I never felt more at home
+anywhere."
+
+"I am so glad;" and Bessie did look glad. He was quite like himself this
+morning; she had got her friend back again. "Did father send me no
+other message?" she asked presently.
+
+"No, I believe not; at least, I have no recollection of a message. Miss
+Lambert," and here Richard's manner was decidedly nervous, "don't you
+wonder what my business was at Cliffe?"
+
+"Why, no," she said, so frankly and innocently that in spite of his
+nervousness Richard could not restrain a smile. "I suppose there was
+something you wanted."
+
+"Yes, indeed," he replied promptly, for this remark helped him; "and I
+wanted it so much that I was obliged to apply to your father."
+
+"Could father help you?" much astonished at this.
+
+"He helped me a great deal. I should not be speaking to you now but for
+him. Miss Lambert--Bessie--can't you guess? It is so hard for me to
+bring it out. Can't you guess what it was I wanted from your father? I
+have never wanted anything so much in my life."
+
+Richard's manner grew so earnest and imploring, that an idea of his
+meaning flashed across her with a suddenness that made her giddy; but
+she only said very gravely:
+
+"I cannot understand unless you speak out."
+
+"May I speak out, then--may I tell you plainly what I want? It is
+yourself, Bessie;" and, in spite of his nervousness, Richard spoke a
+few forcible words, very eloquent from their intense earnestness. "I
+have cared for you all this time, but I would not obtrude myself on your
+trouble; I thought it better to wait."
+
+"It was very kind, very thoughtful of you," replied Bessie, in a low
+voice. And then she added, shyly: "This is all new to me. I never
+expected this, Mr. Sefton."
+
+"I was afraid not, from your manner; but, Bessie, for my sake you will
+think of it now. We have been friends, and now you have grown necessary
+to my happiness. I have been very lonely all these years; I shall be
+lonelier than ever if you cannot bring yourself to love me." His voice
+was so sad that the tears came to Bessie's eyes. She longed to comfort
+him; but how was she to be sure of her own mind?
+
+"Will you give me a little time, a few hours to think of it?" she said
+at last. "It will not be right to answer you now. Do my mother and
+father know about this?"
+
+"Yes," he returned eagerly, for her words filled him with hope; she had
+not repulsed him, and her manner, though confused, was as gentle as
+ever. "They quite approved. You see, I knew you so well that I would not
+have ventured to speak to you without their sanction."
+
+"You were right," she said softly; and then she looked at him in a
+beseeching way that made Richard say:
+
+"You would like me to leave you alone for a little, would you not?"
+
+"If you please--that is, if you do not mind."
+
+"I will go, then. But, Bessie, you will be here to-morrow morning?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I will be content with that promise, then," and Richard lifted his hat
+and moved away, and Bessie went home.
+
+Breakfast was ready when she arrived, and she took her place at once,
+and made an effort to talk as usual. Once Edna made a remark about
+Richard.
+
+"I have promised to drive him over the downs," she said. "Bessie, Miss
+Shelton wants to do some shopping; do you mind taking charge of her for
+the morning?"
+
+"Certainly not," replied Bessie, who would have given worlds to be
+quiet; but she could not refuse Edna. She was afraid, however, that Miss
+Shelton found her a stupid companion; every now and then her attention
+wandered; she was conscious that a grave decision, one that would affect
+her whole life, was hanging in the balance; she had promised Richard to
+think about it, but no such thought seemed possible.
+
+"I am tiring you out, my dear," observed Miss Shelton at last, "and it
+must be nearly luncheon time. I dare say Edna has returned from her
+drive."
+
+Yes, Edna was standing in the window when they entered, but Richard was
+not with her.
+
+"Ritchie said he would lunch at his hotel," she observed; "and he is
+going over to Lewes this afternoon, and may be late for dinner; and in
+that case he will have a chop somewhere, as he does not want us to wait
+for him."
+
+"He will come in afterward, I suppose," replied Miss Shelton; but Bessie
+said to herself that he would do no such thing. How thoughtful he was
+for her comfort! He was staying away purposely, that his presence might
+not confuse her; and Bessie felt grateful to him for the delicacy that
+shielded and spared her.
+
+The afternoon was not much better than the morning. Edna carried off
+Miss Shelton to the Aquarium, and left Bessie to drive with her mother;
+and as Mrs. Sefton was very talkative and in excellent spirits, Bessie
+had to maintain her share of the conversation. They found visitors on
+their return, and Bessie had to pour out the tea, and help entertain
+them, as Edna was tired from her exertions.
+
+As she had predicted, Richard never made his appearance at all, although
+Miss Shelton and Edna both expected him, and indulged in wondering
+comments on his prolonged absence. Bessie found her position unbearable
+at last, and she made an excuse to retire early to her room. She gave a
+sigh of relief when she closed the door.
+
+"At last I can think," she said to herself, as she drew her chair to the
+fire.
+
+How was she to answer Richard to-morrow? But even as she asked herself
+the question she knew she had her answer ready. True, he had taken her
+by surprise; she had never suspected that this was his meaning. Bessie's
+unconsciousness, her humble estimate of herself, had blinded her to the
+truth. She hardly knew herself how much he was to her until his words
+had broken the spell; but now there was no room for doubt. She respected
+him; he had claimed her sympathy long ago, and now he had won her love.
+
+"Oh, if only my Hatty knew!" were her last thoughts that night, after
+she had finished her thanksgiving for the new blessing that had come
+into her life; and though she was still tremulous and confused with
+happiness, she quieted herself with a few childlike prayers, and soon
+slept soundly.
+
+Bessie felt a little nervous as she left the house the next morning, but
+she tried not to think of herself. Richard was waiting for her on the
+Parade. One glance at him banished her nervousness; he looked pale and
+anxious, as though he had not slept, but he made an effort to smile as
+he held out his hand.
+
+"Is there any hope for me, Bessie?"
+
+"Yes," she said simply, as she left her hand in his; and Richard needed
+no further answer.
+
+It was a bright, peaceful hour that followed, as they walked side by
+side, looking at the shining sea and speaking of the dim future that lay
+before them.
+
+"I was afraid you were too good for me, Bessie," Richard said, bye and
+bye, when he had exhausted his gratitude a little. "Sometimes I used to
+lose hope. 'She will never care for such a rough fellow,' I often said
+to myself."
+
+"You must not speak against yourself now," returned Bessie shyly.
+
+"No, dear, for you have promised to take me just as I am, and that would
+make any fellow think more of himself. Bessie, you must not mind if my
+mother is not quite pleased at first; she is an ambitious woman, and her
+notions are very different from mine." Bessie did not answer for a
+moment, and her silence seemed to alarm Richard.
+
+"She is only my stepmother; I am my own master, Bessie."
+
+"Yes, I know," in a low voice. "I was thinking about that last night. I
+am afraid she will not like it, and it troubles me a little. We are not
+rich, and----"
+
+"What does that matter?" with a touch of impatience. "I thought you were
+free from that sort of nonsense, Bessie."
+
+"It does not matter to us," replied Bessie, with a slight emphasis on
+the "us" that was exquisite to Richard's ear. "I am only speaking of
+Mrs. Sefton; but she is not your own mother, and she has never made you
+happy, and she has no right to prevent you pleasing yourself."
+
+"That is spoken like a sensible girl. I must thank you for that speech.
+Your father said much the same thing to me. 'You are your own master,'
+he remarked, 'and your stepmother has no right to control your choice;
+but, knowing her as I do, she will not be pleased.'"
+
+"You will tell her as soon as possible, will you not--and Edna, too?"
+
+"I will tell them this morning. You must leave everything to me. You
+shall be subjected to no unpleasantness that I can prevent. And, Bessie,
+I am going to take you down to Cliffe. I have made my mind up to that."
+
+"Very well," she said, with a smile. And it was a new thing for Richard
+to assert himself and meet with no contradiction; and as he looked at
+the girl beside him, and met her clear, candid glance, his heart
+swelled within him for very gratitude.
+
+"It is getting late; we must go home now," observed Bessie, wondering a
+little at his sudden silence.
+
+"Yes, we will go home," he replied, rousing himself. "I was just
+thinking, dear, what life will mean to me when I have you beside me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+IN THE COOMBE WOODS.
+
+
+Breakfast was a more difficult affair than it had been on the preceding
+morning, and Edna, who was very quick-witted, soon saw there was
+something amiss with Bessie; but she was a kind-hearted girl, and she
+threw herself with such animation into the conversation that Bessie's
+silence was unnoticed.
+
+When the meal was finished Bessie withdrew to her room, and Edna would
+have followed her, but just then Richard came in, and begged her in a
+low voice to get rid of Miss Shelton for half an hour, as he wanted to
+speak to her and her mother; and then in a moment Edna guessed the
+truth.
+
+Bessie remained a long time alone. She had finished her letter to her
+mother, and had just taken up her work, before Edna came in search of
+her.
+
+Edna looked excited, and there were tears in her eyes as she kissed
+Bessie.
+
+"You naughty little thing!" she said, trying to laugh. "Who ever would
+have thought of you and Ritchie falling in love with each other? I
+don't think I have ever been more surprised in my life."
+
+"I was surprised, too," replied Bessie naïvely. "Dear Edna, are you very
+much shocked?"
+
+"Not at all. On the whole, I am very much pleased at the idea of having
+you as a sister. I fell in love with you myself, Bessie. I told Ritchie
+that, so I ought not to be so surprised that he has followed my example.
+I am not quite sure that he is good enough for you. I suppose you think
+he is," doubtfully.
+
+"Yes, indeed. It is I who am not good enough for him," replied Bessie,
+blushing, and looking so pretty that Edna hugged her again.
+
+"You are very kind to me, Edna, but I am afraid your mother will not be
+pleased about this;" and then Edna's face grew somewhat grave.
+
+"No, Bessie, she is not; and she is very hard upon poor Richard, as
+usual, and I had to take his part. Mamma is very proud, and that is why
+she approved so much of Neville, because he belongs to county people and
+is his uncle's heir. Neville will be terribly rich one day."
+
+"And I am poor!" in a troubled voice.
+
+"Yes, but Richard has plenty of money, and, as I tell mamma, I cannot
+see what that matters. You are a lady, Bessie; your mother is a perfect
+gentlewoman; and as for Dr. Lambert, mamma knows what he is--she cannot
+say a word against him. She says she is very fond of you personally, but
+all the same she does not want Richard to marry you. You see,"
+hesitating a little, "mamma will have to leave The Grange when Ritchie
+marries, and she does not like the idea of that; but, as Richard justly
+said, his father hoped he would marry early, and he had a right, like
+any other man, to take a wife when he wishes. Of course, mamma has not a
+grain of right on her side, but she chooses to be angry with Richard
+because he has been down to Cliffe and settled everything without
+reference to her; she says it is the way he always treats her."
+
+"I think I will go to your mother, Edna. Is--is your brother with her?"
+
+"Yes, I believe so; but they are not talking now. Ritchie sent me to
+you. Must you go, Bessie, dear? mamma will not be a bit nice to you."
+
+"I cannot help that; but I am as much to blame as your brother is, and I
+shall not leave him to bear the brunt of it all." And though Bessie
+looked a little pale as she said this, she carried out her resolve much
+to Mrs. Sefton's astonishment.
+
+Richard met her at once, and took her hand.
+
+"I have told my mother, Bessie," he said, in a clear, high voice that
+was a little defiant.
+
+"Yes, I know now, when everything is arranged," returned Mrs. Sefton, in
+an injured tone.
+
+"Dear Mrs. Sefton," said Bessie gently, "nothing was settled until this
+morning. Mr. Sefton took me by surprise yesterday, and I was hardly
+prepared. Indeed, I had no answer to give him until this morning, so not
+an hour has been lost."
+
+"My mother knows all that," interrupted Richard, "but I cannot convince
+her no offence is intended. Mother, I think you might give Bessie a
+kinder reception; she has promised to marry me, and I think my future
+wife should be treated with consideration and respect."
+
+"No, no; how can you talk so?" interrupted Bessie, for the young man
+spoke in a fiery manner. "Mrs. Sefton, please don't listen to him. You
+shall treat me as you will; but I shall always remember how good you
+have been to me. Of course you are not pleased with a poor girl like me;
+but you will be kind to me all the same--will you not? and I will try to
+follow all your wishes. It is not your son's fault either," very shyly,
+but trying to speak out bravely, "for he could not help caring for me, I
+suppose. Do, do try to forgive us both, and be kind to him." And here
+Bessie faltered and broke down.
+
+Nothing could have been better than Bessie's little impetuous speech.
+Mrs. Sefton was a proud, ambitious woman, but she was not wholly without
+feelings, and she had always been fond of Bessie. The girl's sweetness
+and humility, her absence of all assumption, the childlike way in which
+she threw herself upon her womanly kindness, touched Mrs. Sefton's cold
+heart, and she kissed the wet, flushed cheek.
+
+"Don't cry, Bessie. I suppose as things are settled we must just make
+the best of them. Richard put me out, and I said more than I meant. I
+was not pleased. I think I ought to have been consulted at least, not
+left so wholly in the dark."
+
+"I am very sorry, mother, but you have never invited my confidence,"
+replied Richard; but his lips quivered as he spoke.
+
+"Yes; but you will be kinder to him now," and Bessie looked imploringly
+at her; "indeed, he has always loved you, but you have repelled him so.
+Richard," very softly, "will you not tell your mother that you mean to
+be good to her?"
+
+Mrs. Sefton looked up, and her eyes met her stepson's. "It was not my
+fault, mother," he said, with suppressed emotion.
+
+Bessie thought that he was speaking of their engagement, but Richard's
+words conveyed a different meaning to his stepmother's ears. He was
+going back to the past. Again he saw himself a shy, nervous boy,
+standing before the proud, handsome girl who had just become his
+father's wife. "He can never be anything to me," he heard her say; and
+her low, bitter tones lingered long in his ears. "If I had known of his
+existence it might have been different; but now--" and she turned away
+with a gesture of dislike.
+
+"Ritchie, my boy, you must ask this lady to forgive us both," his father
+had observed, rather sadly.
+
+How well Richard remembered that little scene! the discomfited
+expression of his father's face; his own puzzled, childish feelings. All
+these years he had suffered the consequences of his father's rash act.
+"He can never be anything to me," she had said, and her words had come
+true.
+
+"Mother, it was not my fault," he said, looking into her eyes.
+
+And for the first time she quailed before that sad, reproachful gaze; it
+seemed to compel her to acknowledge the truth. "No, Richard; it was your
+father's; it was he who estranged us," she returned slowly. "I was not
+the woman to forgive deceit. I wish--I wish things could have been
+different."
+
+"They shall be different," he replied gently, "if you will have it so,
+mother; it is not too late yet;" and though she did not answer, and
+there was no response to that burst of generous feeling, there was
+something in her face that gave Richard hope; neither did she repulse
+him when he stooped over her and kissed her.
+
+"Try to make the best of me," he said; and Mrs. Sefton sighed, and left
+her hand in his.
+
+Richard took Bessie out with him after that. He was agitated and
+dispirited by the interview with his stepmother, and needed all the
+comfort Bessie could give him.
+
+"It is very hard to bear," were his first words, when he found himself
+alone with her.
+
+"Yes, it is very hard," she replied gently; "but you behaved so well it
+made me so proud to hear you;" and Richard felt a glow of satisfaction
+at her words.
+
+"You were beside me, helping me all the time," he said simply. "Bessie,
+if you only knew what it is to me to be sure of your sympathy. My little
+blessing, I think you were born to be a peacemaker. It was you who
+softened my mother's heart; before you came in she was so hard, and said
+such bitter things, and then I lost my temper, and----"
+
+"Do not go back to that," she said quietly. "Your mother was taken by
+surprise. She said herself that she spoke hastily. Let us give her time.
+She cannot alter her nature all at once. You have been very patient a
+long time, Richard; be patient still for my sake."
+
+"There is nothing I would not do for your sake," he replied; and Bessie
+was pleased to see him smile.
+
+After all, it was not difficult to comfort him; the cloud soon passed
+away from his face, and in a little while they were talking as happily
+together as though no unkind words had been said.
+
+They had a quiet, peaceful Sunday together, and then Richard went back
+to Oatlands, on the understanding that he was to return on Wednesday
+night and take Bessie down to Cliffe the next day.
+
+Bessie was not sorry to be left alone for two days to realize her own
+happiness; but, all the same, she was glad to welcome him back again on
+Wednesday, though she was secretly amused when Richard declared those
+two days of absence had been intolerably long; still she liked to hear
+him say it.
+
+It was a happy evening to Bessie when she saw Richard for the first time
+in her own dear home, making one of the family circle, and looking as
+though he had been there for years. How kindly they had all greeted him!
+She saw by her mother's expression how pleased and excited she was. She
+took the young man under her motherly wing at once, and petted and made
+much of him; and it was easy to see how proud her father was of his
+son-in-law elect. Bessie thought she had never seen Richard to such
+advantage before. There was no awkwardness in his manner; he was alert,
+cheerful, and at his ease, ready to talk to Christine or to the younger
+girls, and full of delicate little attentions to his _fiancée_.
+
+"A fine, manly fellow!" observed Dr. Lambert, as he wished his daughter
+good-night. "You have won a prize, my girl; I am perfectly satisfied
+with my future son-in-law," and Bessie blushed and smiled over her
+father's encomium.
+
+But the most comfortable moment was when she had her mother to herself,
+for Mrs. Lambert had stolen upstairs after Bessie.
+
+"Oh, mother, this is what I wanted," she said, drawing her mother down
+into the low chair beside the fire, and kneeling on the rug beside her.
+"How good of you to come up to me! I was so longing for a talk."
+
+"I think your father wanted Mr. Sefton to himself, so I left them
+together."
+
+"You must call him Richard," corrected Bessie; "he wants you to do so.
+It was so nice to see him with you to-night; he will never want a mother
+now. You like him, do you not?" rather shyly.
+
+"Yes, indeed; we all like him; there is something so genuine about him.
+My darling, I have not felt so happy since our poor Hatty's death."
+
+"I think she would have been pleased about this, mother; it is the one
+drop of bitterness in my cup of happiness that her congratulations are
+missing. You were all so dear and kind to me, and to Richard, too; but I
+missed my Hatty;" and Bessie leaned against her mother's shoulder, and
+shed a few quiet tears.
+
+"I think I must tell you something," returned her mother soothingly.
+"Dear little Hatty used to talk in the strangest way sometimes. One
+night when she had been very ill, and I was sitting beside her, she
+told me that she had had such a funny dream about you--that you and Mr.
+Sefton were going to be married, and that she had seen you dressed in
+white, and looking so happy, and then she said very wistfully,
+'Supposing my dream should come true, mother, and our Bessie really
+married him, how nice that would be!' and she would speak of it more
+than once, until I was obliged to remind her that I never cared to talk
+of such subjects, and that I did not like my girls to talk of them,
+either. 'But, all the same, mother, Bessie will not be an old maid,' she
+persisted, with such a funny little smile, and then she left off to
+please me."
+
+"How strange!" replied Bessie thoughtfully. "I must tell Richard that;
+he was so kind about Hatty. Mother, is it not nice to be able to tell
+some one all one's thoughts, and be sure of their interest? That is how
+I begin to feel about Richard. He is always so kind and patient, and
+ready to hear everything, and he never laughs nor turn things into fun,
+as Tom does; and he is so clever; he knows things of which I am quite
+ignorant;" and Bessie rambled on in an innocent, girlish way of her
+lover's perfections, while her mother listened with a smile, remembering
+her own young days.
+
+"She is very simple," she said to her husband that night; "she thinks
+only of him; she does not seem to remember that he is rich, and that
+one day she will be mistress of The Grange. That is so like our Bessie;
+she always goes to the heart of things."
+
+"I am very much pleased with him," replied Dr. Lambert; "he is just as
+unsophisticated in his way as Bessie is in hers. You would have liked to
+have heard him, Dora. He seems to think there is no one like her. 'She
+is worth a dozen of me,' he said; and he meant it, too."
+
+Richard spent several days at Cliffe, and they were golden days to him
+and Bessie. On the last evening they went out together, for in the
+Lamberts' crowded household there was little quiet for the lovers, and
+Richard had pleaded for one more walk. "I shall not see you for six
+whole weeks," he said disconsolately; and, as usual, Bessie yielded to
+his wishes.
+
+They climbed up by the quarry into the Coombe Woods, and walked through
+the long, green alleys that seemed to stretch into space. The Coombe
+Woods were a favorite trysting-place for young couples, and many a
+village lad and lass carried on their rustic courtship there. The trees
+were leafless now, but the February sky was soft and blue, and the birds
+were twittering of the coming spring.
+
+"And Edna is to be married in June," observed Bessie, breaking the
+silence. "I am glad Mrs. Sefton has given her consent."
+
+"I suppose they gave her no option," replied Richard. "I knew when
+Sinclair went down on Saturday that he would settle something. Edna
+would not be likely to refuse him anything just now. You will have to be
+her bridesmaid, Bessie, so I am sure of some rides with you in June."
+
+"Dear old Whitefoot! I shall be glad to mount him again."
+
+"I shall get you a better horse before next winter. Whitefoot is growing
+old. Bessie, I ought not to be dissatisfied when you have been so good
+to me; but do you not think it would be possible to induce your father
+to change his mind?"
+
+Bessie did not pretend to misunderstand his meaning; she only said
+gently:
+
+"No, Richard; and I do not think it would be right to ask him;" and then
+she added, "You know dear Hatty will only have been dead a year."
+
+"Yes, I see what you mean," he replied slowly, "and I must not be
+selfish; but next October is a long time to wait, Bessie."
+
+"It will not seem so," she answered brightly, "and we must not hurry
+your mother; there will be Edna's marriage in June, and my visit to The
+Grange, and every now and then you will come here."
+
+"Yes, and there will be my mother to settle in her new house--you see
+what Edna says in her letter, that they have decided not to separate;
+that means that my mother will take a house at Kensington. Well, I dare
+say that will be for the best; but when my mother goes The Grange will
+want its mistress."
+
+"It will not want her long," she said very gently, "and Richard, dear,
+you have promised not to be impatient. Mother is not ready to part with
+me yet. I shall not like to think of you being lonely in that big house;
+but it will not be for long."
+
+"And, after all, I shall not be lonely," he returned, for he was not to
+be outdone in unselfishness. "I shall be getting the house ready for
+you, and the new mare. Oh, and there will be a hundred things to do, and
+in the evenings I shall talk to Mac about his new mistress, and he will
+look up in my face with his wise, deep-set eyes, as though he understood
+every word, and was as glad as I was that October would soon come."
+
+"Poor old Mac!" she exclaimed; and there was a soft color in her face as
+she interrupted him. "You must give him a pat from me, and to all the
+dear dogs--Leo, and Gelert, and Brand, and Bill Sykes--we must not
+forget Bill Sykes--and Tim, and Spot; and tell them--" And then she
+stopped and looked at him with a smile.
+
+"What shall I tell them?" he asked coaxingly; "that you will be glad
+too, when October comes?"
+
+"If you like," she answered quietly, "you may tell them that; but,
+Richard, when I think of the future, it is all like a dream. I cannot
+imagine that the dear old Grange is to be my home."
+
+"You will find it very real," he replied. "Think what walks we shall
+have on Sunday afternoons, with Bill Sykes and his companions; and when
+you go into the drawing-room to make tea, Tim and Spot will not be left
+outside."
+
+"Wait a moment, Richard look at that sunset;" and Bessie pointed to the
+western heavens, which were bathed in a glow of golden light. They had
+reached the end of the wood; a wide stretch of country lay before them.
+How still and quiet it was! even the birds' twitterings had ceased.
+Bessie's eyes grew soft and wistful; the sunset glories had reminded her
+of Hatty in her far-off home.
+
+Down below them lay the bay, like a sea of glass mingled with fire.
+"Thank God, all is well with my Hatty!" she thought; and then she turned
+to Richard with a gentle smile, and they went slowly back through the
+wood again, talking quietly of the days that were to be.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+
+    Changes to the original publication have been made as follows:
+
+    Table of contents
+    The Oatland Post-mark _changed to_
+    The Oatlands Post-mark
+
+    Page 7
+    "I am sure I don't know" returned _changed to_
+    "I am sure I don't know," returned
+
+    Page 17
+    in ice in Artic _changed to_
+    in ice in Arctic
+
+    Page 56
+    I dont think Aunt _changed to_
+    I don't think Aunt
+
+    Page 79
+    proudly to show her treassure _changed to_
+    proudly to show her treasure
+
+    Page 80
+    manners My Bessie is _changed to_
+    manners. My Bessie is
+
+    Page 92
+    embarrased manner _changed to_
+    embarrassed manner
+
+    Page 94
+    live anywhere else?" _changed to_
+    live anywhere else!"
+
+    Page 95
+    inintellect, of art _changed to_
+    intellect, of art
+
+    Page 103
+    then her mother dotes on her. _changed to_
+    then her mother dotes on her."
+
+    Page 109
+    "You may come in if you like, old fellow. _changed to_
+    "You may come in if you like, old fellow."
+
+    Page 111
+    Hatty! Oh, you mean the little _changed to_
+    "Hatty! Oh, you mean the little
+
+    Page 113
+    but for my part I think him _changed to_
+    "but for my part I think him
+
+    Page 130
+    but I I can imagine what a _changed to_
+    but I can imagine what a
+
+    Page 139
+    muff, but the man be has _changed to_
+    muff, but the man he has
+
+    Page 162
+    he returned hastiiy _changed to_
+    he returned hastily
+
+    Page 164
+    step-mother was young, and did not _changed to_
+    stepmother was young, and did not
+
+    Page 173
+    I go there very often because _changed to_
+    'I go there very often because
+
+    Page 209
+    and the heorines have _changed to_
+    and the heroines have
+
+    Page 216
+    "Hatty is not well," observed Bessie anxiously _changed to_
+    "Hatty is not well," observed Bessie anxiously.
+
+    Page 222
+    What a terriffic clap! _changed to_
+    What a terrific clap!
+
+    Page 267
+    effort to come, if only for my sake.' _changed to_
+    effort to come, if only for my sake.
+
+    Page 283
+    is quite well," he continueed coldly _changed to_
+    is quite well," he continued coldly
+
+    Page 297
+    You father will find that _changed to_
+    Your father will find that
+
+    Page 309
+    "I had some business there, he began awkwardly _changed to_
+    "I had some business there," he began awkwardly
+
+    Page 310
+    "Yes, indeed, he replied promptly _changed to_
+    "Yes, indeed," he replied promptly
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Bessie, by Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR BESSIE ***
+
+***** This file should be named 28651-8.txt or 28651-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/6/5/28651/
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/28651-8.zip b/28651-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c69610c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28651-8.zip
diff --git a/28651-h.zip b/28651-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..19000d1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28651-h.zip
diff --git a/28651-h/28651-h.htm b/28651-h/28651-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e8d43a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28651-h/28651-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,9119 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Our Bessie, by Rosa Nouchette Carey
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+    text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+    clear: both;
+}
+    h1 {
+    text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+    padding-top: 3em;
+    clear: both;
+}
+    h2 {
+    text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+    padding-bottom: 1em;
+    clear: both;
+}
+    h3 {
+    text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+    padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+
+p {
+    margin-top: .75em;
+    text-align: justify;
+    margin-bottom: .75em;
+    text-indent: 1em;
+}
+
+hr { margin: 80px auto 30px auto;
+     height: 0px;
+     border-width: 1px 0 0 0;
+     border-style: solid;
+     border-color: #000000;
+     width: 30em;
+     clear: both;
+}
+
+hr.hr2 {width: 15em; margin: 30px auto 50px auto;}
+
+hr.hrtn {width: 5em; margin: 0 auto 10px auto; border-color: #a9a9a9;}
+hr.hr4 {width: 28em; margin: 1em auto 1em auto; border-color: #000000;}
+
+em {font-style: italic;}
+
+strong {font-weight: 800}
+
+ins {text-decoration: none; border-bottom: 1px dotted #e2d4d3;}
+
+ul {font-size: .9em;}
+ul li {list-style: none; text-align: left; margin-bottom: .3em;}
+
+table {
+    margin: 2em auto 5em auto;
+     border-collapse: collapse; border-spacing: 0;
+}
+th         {font-size: .8em;}
+td,th      {vertical-align: bottom; text-indent: 0em;}
+td,th.tdr  {text-align: right;}
+td,th.tdr2 {text-align: right; padding-left: 2em;}
+td.tdl     {text-align: left; padding-left: 1em;}
+td.tdc     {text-align: center; padding-top: 1em;}
+
+.pagenum  {/* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+           /* visibility: hidden; */
+            position: absolute;
+            left: 95%;
+            font-size: 10px;
+            font-weight: normal;
+            font-variant: normal;
+            font-style: normal;
+            letter-spacing: normal;
+            text-indent: 0em;
+            text-align: right;
+            color: #999999;
+            background-color: #ffffff;
+} /* page numbers */
+
+.blockquot {margin: 2em 2em;}
+
+.center   {text-align: center;}
+
+.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
+
+.caption  {font-size: .9em;}
+
+.back {text-align: left; text-indent: 0em; font-size: .9em; margin-top: 20px;}
+
+.block {text-align: center; margin: auto; width: 18em;}
+
+.noi      {text-indent: 0em;}
+
+.mt       {margin-top: 2em;}
+
+.r1       {text-align: right; padding-right: 6em; margin-bottom: 0em;}
+.r2       {text-align: right; Padding-right: 4em; margin-top: 0em;}
+.pt       {padding-top: 2em;}
+
+
+
+/* Images */
+.figcenter   {
+    margin: 5em auto 5em auto;
+    text-align: center;
+}
+
+
+/* Poetry */
+.poem {
+    margin-left:10%;
+    margin-right:10%;
+    text-align: left;
+}
+
+.poem br {display: none;}
+
+.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
+
+.poem span.io {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 0em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3.3em;
+}
+
+.poem span.i0 {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 0em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+
+/* Transcriber note */
+#tn {background-color: #f5f5f5;
+     border: 1px solid #000000; padding: .5em 2em 2em 2em;
+     margin: 5em auto 5em auto;
+     text-align: center;
+     width: 600px;}
+.tntext {font-size: .9em; text-indent: 0em;}
+
+/* Title page */
+#tpc {margin: 100px auto 80px auto; text-align: center;
+      text-indent: 0em; width: 28em; border: 6px double;
+      padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;}
+.tp {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; line-height: 2em;}
+.title {font-size: 200%; letter-spacing: .1em; word-spacing: .2em;}
+.by    {font-size: 110%;}
+.left {float: left; clear: left; padding-left: 1em;}
+.right {float: right; clear: right; padding-right: 1em;}
+
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Bessie, by Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Our Bessie
+
+Author: Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+Release Date: May 1, 2009 [EBook #28651]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR BESSIE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<h1>OUR BESSIE</h1>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" height="472" alt="Cover" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="600" height="384" alt="&#8220;HOW GOOD OF YOU TO COME!&#8221; SHE EXCLAIMED. BESSIE SAW SHE
+HAD BEEN CRYING." title="" />
+<span class="caption"><a href="#front">&#8220;HOW GOOD OF YOU TO COME!&#8221; SHE EXCLAIMED.<br />
+BESSIE SAW SHE
+HAD BEEN CRYING.</a></span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div id="tpc">
+<p class="tp"><span class="title"><big>OUR BESSIE</big></span></p>
+
+<hr class="hr4" />
+
+<p class="tp"><span class="by">BY<br />
+ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY</span></p>
+
+<p class="center noi"><small>AUTHOR OF &#8220;MERLE&#8217;S CRUSADE,&#8221; &#8220;NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS,&#8221;
+&#8220;ONLY THE GOVERNESS,&#8221; ETC.</small></p>
+
+<hr class="hr4" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;">
+<img src="images/logo.png" width="200" height="102" alt="Logo" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="hr4" />
+
+<p class="center"><big>THE MERSHON COMPANY</big><br />
+
+<span class="left">RAHWAY, N. J.</span> <span class="right">NEW YORK</span></p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h2><a name="contents" id="contents"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<table summary="table of contents">
+<tr>
+<th class="tdr2" colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Page</span></th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">CHAPTER I.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Bessie Meets with an Adventure</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#I">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER II.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+&#8220;<span class="smcap">Here Is Our Bessie</span>&#8221;</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#II">16</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER III.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">Hatty</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#III">31</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER IV.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">A Cosy Morning</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#IV">46</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER V.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">The <a name="Oatlands" id="Oatlands"></a><ins title="original has Oatland">Oatlands</ins> Post-mark</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#V">61</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER VI.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">Little Miss Much-afraid</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VI">74</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER VII.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">In the Kentish Lanes</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VII">87</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER VIII.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">At the Grange</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VIII">101</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER IX.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">Richard Sefton</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#IX">115</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER X.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">Bessie Is Introduced to Bill Sykes</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#X">129</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XI.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">Edna Has a Grievance</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XI">148</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XII.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">The First Sunday at the Grange</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XII">156</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XIII.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">Whitefoot in Requisition</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIII">171</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XIV.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">Bessie Snubs A Hero</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIV">183</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XV.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+&#8220;<span class="smcap">She Will Not Come</span>&#8221;</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XV">197</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XVI.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">A Note From Hatty</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVI">209</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XVII.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+&#8220;<span class="smcap">Trouble May Come To Me One Day</span>&#8221;</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVII">222</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XVIII.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+&#8220;<span class="smcap">Farewell, Night</span>&#8221;</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVIII">236</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XIX.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+&#8220;<span class="smcap">I Must Not Think of Myself</span>&#8221;</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIX">249</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XX.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+&#8220;<span class="smcap">Bessie&#8217;s Second Flitting</span>&#8221;</td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XX">263</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XXI.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">On the Parade</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXI">276</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XXII.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">Bessie Buys A Japanese Fan</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXII">289</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XXIII.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">Mrs. Sefton Has Another Visitor</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIII">303</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2">
+CHAPTER XXIV.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">
+<span class="smcap">In the Coombe Woods</span></td>
+<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIV">318</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><big>OUR BESSIE.</big></h2>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span><a name="I" id="I"></a>CHAPTER I.<br />
+<br />
+<small>BESSIE MEETS WITH AN ADVENTURE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was extremely tiresome!</p>
+
+<p>It was vexatious; it was altogether annoying!</p>
+
+<p>Most people under similar circumstances would have used stronger
+expressions, would have bemoaned themselves loudly, or at least
+inwardly, with all the pathos of self-pity.</p>
+
+<p>To be nearly at the end of one&#8217;s journey, almost within sight and sound
+of home fires and home welcomes, and then to be snowed up, walled,
+imprisoned, kept in durance vile in an unexpected snowdrift&#8212;well, most
+human beings, unless gifted with angelic patience, and armed with
+special and peculiar fortitude, would have uttered a few groans under
+such depressing circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, Bessie Lambert was not easily depressed. She was a cheerful
+young person, an optimist by nature; and, thanks to a healthy
+organization,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> good digestion, and wholesome views of duty, was not
+given to mental nightmares, nor to cry out before she was hurt.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie would have thought it faint-hearted to shrink at every little
+molehill of difficulty; she had plenty of what the boys call pluck (no
+word is more eloquent than that), and a fund of quiet humor that tided
+her safely over many a slough of despond. If any one could have read
+Bessie&#8217;s thoughts a few minutes after the laboring engine had ceased to
+work, they would have been as follows, with little staccato movements
+and pauses:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What an adventure! How Tom would laugh, and Katie too! Katie is always
+longing for something to happen to her; but it would be more enjoyable
+if I had some one with me to share it, and if I were sure father and
+mother would not be anxious. An empty second-class compartment is not a
+particularly comfortable place on a cold afternoon. I wonder how it
+would be if all the passengers were to get out and warm themselves with
+a good game of snowballing. There is not much room, though; we should
+have to play it in a single file, or by turns. Supposing that, instead
+of that, the nice, white-haired old gentleman who got in at the last
+station were to assemble us all in the third-class carriage and tell us
+a story about Siberia; that would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> nice and exciting. Tom would
+suggest a ghost story, a good creepy one; but that would be too dismal.
+The hot-water tin is getting cold, but I have got a rug, I am thankful
+to say, so I shall not freeze for the next two hours. If I had only a
+book, or could go to sleep&#8212;oh!&#8221; in a tone of relief, as the guard&#8217;s
+face was suddenly thrust in at the open window.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I beg your pardon, miss; I hope I did not startle you; but there is a
+young lady in the first-class compartment who, I take it, would be the
+better for a bit of company; and as I saw you were alone, I thought you
+might not object to change your carriage.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed; I shall be delighted to have a companion,&#8221; returned Bessie
+briskly. &#8220;How long do you think we shall be detained here, guard?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There is no knowing, miss; but one of our men is working his way back
+to the signals. We have not come more than three miles since we left
+Cleveley. It is only a bit of a drift that the snow-plow will soon
+clear, and it will be a matter of two or three hours, I dare say; but it
+has left off snowing now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will they telegraph to Cliffe the reason of the delay?&#8221; asked Bessie, a
+little anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, they will do that right enough; you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> needn&#8217;t be uneasy. The
+other young lady is in a bit of a fuss, too, but I told her there was no
+danger. Give a good jump, miss; there, now you are all right. I will
+take care of your things. Follow me, please; it is only a step or so.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This is more of an adventure than ever,&#8221; thought Bessie, as she
+followed the big, burly guard. &#8220;What a kind man he is! Perhaps he has
+daughters of his own.&#8221; And she thanked him so warmly and so prettily as
+he almost lifted her into the carriage, that he muttered, as he turned
+away:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s a nice, pleasant little woman. I like that sort.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The first-class compartment felt warm and snug. Its only tenant was a
+fair, pretty-looking girl, dressed very handsomely in a mantle trimmed
+with costly fur, and a fur-lined rug over her knees.</p>
+
+<p><a name="front" id="front"></a>&#8220;Oh, thank you! How good of you to come!&#8221; she exclaimed eagerly; and
+Bessie saw at once that she had been crying. &#8220;I was feeling so
+frightened and miserable all by myself. I got it into my head that
+another train would run into us, and I was quite in a panic until the
+guard assured me there was no danger. He told me that there was another
+young lady alone, and that he would bring her to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, that was so nice of him; and of course it is pleasanter to be able
+to speak to somebody,&#8221; returned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> Bessie cheerfully; &#8220;and it is so much
+warmer here.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Take some of my rug; I do not need it all myself; and we may as well be
+as comfortable as we can, under the miserable circumstances.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, do you know I think it might be worse?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Worse! how can you talk so?&#8221; with a shudder.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, it can hardly be a great hardship to sit for another two hours in
+this nice warm carriage, with this beautiful rug to cover us. It
+certainly was a little dull and cold in the other compartment, and I
+longed to get out and have a game of snowballing to warm myself.&#8221; But
+here her companion gave a little laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a funny idea! How could you think of such a thing?&#8221; And here she
+looked, for the first time, rather scrutinizingly at Bessie. Oh, yes,
+she was a lady&#8212;she spoke nicely and had good manners; but how very
+shabbily she was dressed&#8212;at least, not shabbily; that was not the right
+word&#8212;inexpensively would have been the correct term.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie&#8217;s brown tweed had evidently seen more seasons than one; her
+jacket fitted the trim figure, but was not made in the last fashion; and
+the brown velvet on her hat was decidedly worn. How was the young lady
+to know that Bessie was wearing her oldest things from a sense of
+economy, and that her new<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> jacket and best hat&#8212;a very pretty one&#8212;were
+in the neat black box in the luggage-van?</p>
+
+<p>Certainly the two girls were complete opposites. Bessie, who, as her
+brother Tom often told her, was no beauty, was, notwithstanding, a
+bright, pleasant-looking girl, with soft gray eyes that could express a
+great deal of quiet sympathy on occasions, or could light up with fun.
+People who loved her always said Bessie&#8217;s face was better than a
+beautiful one, for it told nothing but the truth about itself. It did
+not say, &#8220;Come, admire me,&#8221; as some faces say, but, &#8220;Come, trust me if
+you can.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The fashionably dressed young stranger had a very different type of
+face. In the first place, it was undeniably pretty; no one ever thought
+of contradicting that fact, though a few people might have thought it a
+peculiar style of beauty, for she had dark-brown eyes and fair
+hair&#8212;rather an uncommon combination.</p>
+
+<p>She was small, too, and very pale, and yet not fragile-looking; on the
+contrary, she had a clear look of health, but there was a petulant curve
+about the mouth that spoke of quick temper, and the whole face seemed
+capable of great mobility, quick changes of feeling that were perfectly
+transparent.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was quite aware that her new acquaintance was taking stock of
+her; she was quietly amused, but she took no apparent notice.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>&#8220;Is Cliffe-on-Sea your destination?&#8221; she asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; is it yours?&#8221; with a quick note of alarm in her voice. &#8220;Oh, I am so
+sorry!&#8221; as Bessie nodded. &#8220;I hoped we should have travelled together to
+London. I do dislike travelling alone, but my friend was too ill to
+accompany me, and I did not want to stay at Islip another day; it was
+such a stupid place, so dull; so I said I must come, and this is the
+result.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And you are going to London? Why, your journey is but just beginning.
+Cliffe-on-Sea is where I live, and we cannot be more than two miles off.
+Oh, what will you do if we are detained here for two or three hours?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am sure I don&#8217;t <a name="comma" id="comma"></a><ins title="original has no comma">know,&#8221;</ins> returned the other girl disconsolately, and her
+eyes filled with tears again. &#8220;It is nearly five now, and it will be too
+late to go on to London; but I dare not stay at a hotel by myself. What
+will mamma say? She will be dreadfully vexed with me for not waiting for
+Mrs. Moultrie&#8212;she never will let me travel alone, and I have disobeyed
+her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is a great pity,&#8221; returned Bessie gravely; but politeness forbade
+her to say more. She was old-fashioned enough to think that disobedience
+to parents was a heinous offence. She did not understand the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> present
+code, that allows young people to set up independent standards of duty.
+To her the fifth commandment was a very real commandment, and just as
+binding in the nineteenth century as when the young dwellers in tents
+first listened to it under the shadow of the awful Mount.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie&#8217;s gravely disapproving look brought a mocking little smile to the
+other girl&#8217;s face; her quick comprehension evidently detected the
+rebuke, but she only answered flippantly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mamma is too much used to my disobedience to give it a thought; she
+knows I will have my way in things, and she never minds; she is sensible
+enough to know grown-up girls generally have wills of their own.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I must have been brought up differently,&#8221; returned Bessie
+simply. &#8220;I recollect in our nursery days mother used to tell us that
+little bodies ought not to have grown-up wills; and when we got older,
+and wanted to get the reins in our own hands, as young people will, she
+would say, &#8216;Gently, gently, girls; you may be grown up, but you will
+never be as old as your parents&#8212;&#8217;&#8221; But here Bessie stopped, on seeing
+that her companion was struggling with suppressed merriment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It does sound so funny, don&#8217;t you know! Oh, I don&#8217;t mean to be rude,
+but are not your people just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> a little bit old-fashioned and behind the
+times? I don&#8217;t want to shock you; I am far too grateful for your
+company. Mamma and I thoroughly understand each other. I am very fond of
+her, and I am as sorry as possible to vex her by getting into this
+mess;&#8221; and here the girl heaved a very genuine sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And you live in London?&#8221; Bessie was politely changing the subject.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; but we have some friends there, and I was going to break my
+journey and do a little shopping. Our home is in Kent; we live at
+Oatlands&#8212;such a lovely, quiet little place&#8212;far too quiet for me; but
+since I came out mamma always spends the season in town. The
+Grange&#8212;that is our house&#8212;is really Richard&#8217;s&#8212;my brother&#8217;s, I mean.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The Grange&#8212;Oatlands? I am sure I know that name,&#8221; returned Bessie, in
+a puzzled tone; &#8220;and yet where could I have heard it?&#8221; She thought a
+moment, and then added quickly, &#8220;Your name cannot be Sefton?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;To be sure it is,&#8221; replied the other girl, opening her brown eyes
+rather wildly; &#8220;Edna Sefton; but how could you have guessed it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then your mother&#8217;s name is Eleanor?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I begin to think this is mysterious, and that you must be a witch, or
+something uncanny. I know all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> mamma&#8217;s friends, and I am positive not
+one of them ever lived at Cliffe-on-Sea.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And you are quite sure of that? Has your mother never mentioned the
+name of a Dr. Lambert?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dr. Lambert! No. Wait a moment, though. Mamma is very fond of talking
+about old days, when she was a girl, don&#8217;t you know, and there was a
+young doctor, very poor, I remember, but his name was Herbert.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My father&#8217;s name is Herbert, and he was very poor once, when he was a
+young man; he is not rich now. I think, many years ago, he and your
+mother were friends. Let me tell you all I know about it. About a year
+ago he asked me to post a letter for him. I remember reading aloud the
+address in an absent sort of way: &#8216;Mrs. Sefton, The Grange, Oatlands,
+Kent;&#8217; and my father looked up from his writing, and said, &#8216;That is only
+a business letter, Bessie, but Mrs. Sefton and I are old correspondents.
+When she was Eleanor Sartoris, and I was a young fellow as poor as a
+church mouse, we were good friends; but she married, and then I married;
+but that is a lifetime ago; she was a handsome girl, though.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mamma is handsome now. How interesting it all is! When I get home I
+shall coax mamma to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> tell me all about it. You see, we are not strangers
+after all, so we can go on talking quite like old friends. You have made
+me forget the time. Oh dear, how dark it is getting! and the gas gives
+only a glimmer of light.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It will not be quite dark, because of the snow. Do not let us think
+about the time. Some of the passengers are walking about. I heard them
+say just now the man must have reached Cleveley, so the telegram must
+have gone&#8212;we shall soon have help. Of course, if the snow had not
+ceased falling, it would have been far more serious.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; returned Miss Sefton, with a shiver; &#8220;but it is far nicer to read
+of horrid things in a cheerful room and by a bright fire than to
+experience them one&#8217;s self. Somehow one never realizes them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is what father says&#8212;that young people are not really
+hard-hearted, only they do not realize things; their imagination just
+skims over the surface. I think it is my want of imagination helps me. I
+never will look round the corner to try and find out what disagreeable
+thing is coming next. One could not live so and feel cheerful.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then you are one of those good people, Miss Lambert, who think it their
+duty to cultivate cheerfulness. I was quite surprised to see you look so
+tranquil, when I had been indulging in a babyish fit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> of crying, from
+sheer fright and misery; but it made me feel better only to look at
+you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am so glad,&#8221; was Bessie&#8217;s answer. &#8220;I remember being very much struck
+by a passage in an essay I once read, but I can only quote it from
+memory; it was to the effect that when a cheerful person enters a room
+it is as though fresh candles are lighted. The illustration pleases me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;True, it was very telling. Yes, you are cheerful, and you are very fond
+of talking.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid I am a sad chatterbox,&#8221; returned Bessie, blushing, as
+though she were conscious of an implied reproof.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but I like talking people. People who hold their tongues and listen
+are such bores. I do detest bores. I talk a great deal myself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I have got into the way for Hatty&#8217;s sake. Hatty is the sickly
+one of our flock; she has never been strong. When she was a tiny, weeny
+thing she was always crying and fretful. Father tells us that she cannot
+help it, but he never says so to her; he laughs and calls her &#8216;Little
+Miss Much-Afraid.&#8217; Hatty is full of fear. She cannot see a mouse, as I
+tell her, without looking round the corner for pussy&#8217;s claws.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is Hatty your only sister, Miss Lambert?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; there are three more. I am the eldest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>&#8212;&#8216;Mother&#8217;s crutch,&#8217; as
+they call me. We are such a family for giving each other funny names.
+Tom comes next. I am three-and-twenty&#8212;quite an old person, as Tom
+says&#8212;and he is one-and-twenty. He is at Oxford; he wants to be a
+barrister. Christine comes next to Tom&#8212;she is nineteen, and so pretty;
+and then poor Hatty&#8212;&#8216;sour seventeen,&#8217; as Tom called her on her last
+birthday; and then the two children, Ella and Katie; though Ella is
+nearly sixteen, and Katie fourteen, but they are only school-girls.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a large family!&#8221; observed Miss Sefton, stifling a little yawn.
+&#8220;Now, mamma has only got me, for we don&#8217;t count Richard.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not count your brother?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Richard is my step-brother; he was papa&#8217;s son, you know; that makes
+a difference. Papa died when I was quite a little girl, so you see what
+I mean by saying mamma has only got me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But she has your brother, too,&#8221; observed Bessie, somewhat puzzled by
+this.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, of course.&#8221; But Miss Sefton&#8217;s tone was enigmatical, and she
+somewhat hastily changed the subject by saying, plaintively, &#8220;Oh, dear,
+do please tell me, Miss Lambert, what you think I ought to do when we
+reach Cliffe, if we ever do reach it. Shall I telegraph to my friends in
+London, and go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> to a hotel? Perhaps you could recommend me one, or&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; you shall come home with me,&#8221; returned Bessie, moved to this sudden
+inspiration by the weary look in Miss Sefton&#8217;s face. &#8220;We are not
+strangers; my father and your mother were friends; that is sufficient
+introduction. Mother is the kindest woman in the world&#8212;every one says
+so. We are not rich people, but we can make you comfortable. To be sure,
+there is not a spare room; our house is not large, and there are so many
+of us; but you shall have my room, and I will have half of Chrissy&#8217;s
+bed. You are too young&#8221;&#8212;and here Bessie was going to add &#8220;too pretty,&#8221;
+only she checked herself&#8212;&#8212;&#8220;to go alone to a hotel. Mother would be
+dreadfully shocked at the idea.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are very kind&#8212;too kind; but your people might object,&#8221; hesitated
+Miss Sefton.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mother never objects to anything we do; at least, I might turn it the
+other way about, and say we never propose anything to which she is
+likely to object. When my mother knows all about it, she will give you a
+hearty welcome.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you are quite sure of that, I will accept your invitation
+thankfully, for I am tired to death. You are goodness itself to me, but
+I shall not like turning you out of your room.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>&#8220;Nonsense. Chriss and I will think it a bit of fun&#8212;oh, you don&#8217;t know
+us yet. So little happens in our lives that your coming will be quite an
+event; so that is settled.&#8221; And Bessie extended a plump little hand in
+token of her good will, which Miss Sefton cordially grasped.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span><a name="II" id="II"></a>CHAPTER II.<br />
+<br />
+<small>&#8220;HERE IS OUR BESSIE.&#8221;</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">An</span> interruption occurred at this moment. The friendly guard made his
+appearance again, accompanied by the same white-haired old clergyman
+whom Bessie had noticed. He came to offer his services to the young
+ladies. He cheered Miss Sefton&#8217;s drooping spirits by reiterating the
+guard&#8217;s assurance that they need only fear the inconvenience of another
+hour&#8217;s delay.</p>
+
+<p>The sight of the kind, benevolent countenance was reassuring and
+comforting, and after their new friend had left them the girls resumed
+their talk with fresh alacrity.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sefton was the chief speaker. She began recounting the glories of a
+grand military ball at Knightsbridge, at which she had been present, and
+some private theatricals and tableaux that had followed. She had a
+vivid, picturesque way of describing things, and Bessie listened with a
+sort of dreamy fascination that lulled her into forgetfulness of her
+parents&#8217; anxiety.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In spite of her alleged want of imagination, she was conscious of a sort
+of weird interest in her surroundings. The wintry afternoon had closed
+into evening, but the whiteness of the snow threw a dim brightness
+underneath the faint starlight, while the gleam of the carriage lights
+enabled them to see the dark figures that passed and repassed underneath
+their window.</p>
+
+<p>It was intensely cold, and in spite of her furs Miss Sefton shivered and
+grew perceptibly paler. She was evidently one of those spoiled children
+of fortune who had never learned lessons of endurance, who are easily
+subdued and depressed by a passing feeling of discomfort; even Bessie&#8217;s
+sturdy cheerfulness was a little infected by the unnatural stillness
+outside. The line ran between high banks, but in the mysterious twilight
+they looked like rocky defiles closing them in.</p>
+
+<p>After a time Bessie&#8217;s attention wandered, and her interest flagged.
+Military balls ceased to interest her as the temperature grew lower and
+lower. Miss Sefton, too, became silent, and Bessie&#8217;s mind filled with
+gloomy images. She thought of ships bedded in ice in <a name="Arctic" id="Arctic"></a><ins title="original has Artic">Arctic</ins> regions; of shipwrecked sailors on frozen seas; of lonely
+travellers laying down their weary heads on pillows of snow, never to
+rise again; of homeless wanderers, outcasts from society, many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> with
+famished babes at their breasts, cowering under dark arches, or warming
+themselves at smoldering fires.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank God that, as father says, we cannot realize what people have to
+suffer,&#8221; thought Bessie. &#8220;What would be the use of being young and happy
+and free from pain, if we were to feel other people&#8217;s miseries? Some of
+us, who are sympathetic by nature, would never smile again. I don&#8217;t
+think when God made us, and sent us into the world to live our own
+lives, that He meant us to feel like that. One can&#8217;t mix up other
+people&#8217;s lives with one&#8217;s own; it would make an awful muddle.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Miss Lambert, are you asleep, or dreaming with your eyes open? Don&#8217;t
+you see we are moving? There was such a bustle just now, and then they
+got the steam up, and now the engine is beginning to work. Oh! how
+slowly we are going! I could walk faster. Oh! we are stopping again&#8212;no,
+it is only my fancy. Is not the shriek of the whistle musical for once?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was not asleep; I was only thinking; but my thoughts had travelled
+far. Are we really moving? There, the snow-plow has cleared the line; we
+shall go on faster presently.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hope so; it is nearly eight. I ought to have reached London an hour
+ago. Poor Neville, how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> disappointed he will be. Oh, we are through the
+drift now and they are putting on more steam.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, we shall be at Cliffe in another ten minutes;&#8221; and Bessie roused
+in earnest. Those ten minutes seemed interminable before the lights of
+the station flashed before their eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here she is&#8212;here is our Bessie!&#8221; exclaimed a voice, and a fine-looking
+young fellow in an ulster ran lightly down the platform as Bessie waved
+her handkerchief. He was followed more leisurely by a handsome,
+gray-haired man with a quiet, refined-looking face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tom&#8212;oh, Tom!&#8221; exclaimed Bessie, almost jumping into his arms, as he
+opened the carriage door. &#8220;Were mother and Hattie very frightened? Why,
+there is father!&#8221; as Dr. Lambert hurried up.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear child, how thankful I am to see you! Why, she looks quite
+fresh, Tom.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;As fit as possible,&#8221; echoed Tom.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I am only cold. Father, the guard put me in with a young lady. She
+was going to London, but it is too late for her to travel alone, and she
+is afraid of going to a hotel. May I bring her home? Her name is Edna
+Sefton. She lives at The Grange, Oatlands.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Lambert seemed somewhat taken aback by his daughter&#8217;s speech.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>&#8220;Edna Sefton! Why, that is Eleanor Sefton&#8217;s daughter! What a strange
+coincidence!&#8221; And then he muttered to himself, &#8220;Eleanor Sartoris&#8217;
+daughter under our roof! I wonder what Dora will say?&#8221; And then he
+turned to the fair, striking-looking girl whom Tom was assisting with
+all the alacrity that a young man generally shows to a pretty girl:
+&#8220;Miss Sefton, you will be heartily welcome for your mother&#8217;s sake; she
+and I were great friends in the &#8217;auld lang syne.&#8217; Will you come with me?
+I have a fly waiting for Bessie; my son will look after the luggage;&#8221;
+and Edna obeyed him with the docility of a child.</p>
+
+<p>But she glanced at him curiously once or twice as she walked beside him.
+&#8220;What a gentlemanly, handsome man he was!&#8221; she thought. Yes, he looked
+like a doctor; he had the easy, kindly manner which generally belongs to
+the profession. She had never thought much about her own father, but
+to-night, as they drove through the lighted streets, her thoughts, oddly
+enough, recurred to him. Dr. Lambert was sitting opposite the two girls,
+but his eyes were fixed oftenest on his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your mother was very anxious and nervous,&#8221; he said, &#8220;and so was Hatty,
+when Tom brought us word that the train was snowed up in Sheen Valley I
+had to scold Hatty, and tell her she was a goose; but mother was nearly
+as bad; she can&#8217;t do without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> her crutch, eh, Bessie?&#8221; with a gleam of
+tenderness in his eyes, as they rested on his girl.</p>
+
+<p>Edna felt a little lump in her throat, though she hardly knew why;
+perhaps she was tired and over-strained; she had never missed her father
+before, but she fought against the feeling of depression.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am so sorry your son has to walk,&#8221; she said politely; but Dr. Lambert
+only smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A walk will not hurt him, and our roads are very steep.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke, the driver got down, and Bessie begged leave to follow his
+example.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We live on the top of the hill,&#8221; she said apologetically; &#8220;and I cannot
+bear being dragged up by a tired horse, as father knows by this time;&#8221;
+and she joined her brother, who came up at that moment.</p>
+
+<p>Tom had kept the fly well in sight.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s an awfully jolly-looking girl, Betty,&#8221; he observed, with the
+free and easy criticism of his age. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know when I have seen a
+prettier girl; uncommon style, too&#8212;fair hair and dark eyes; she is a
+regular beauty.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is what boys always think about,&#8221; returned Bessie, with
+good-humored contempt. &#8220;Girls are different. I should be just as much
+interested in Miss Sefton if she were plain. I suppose you mean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> to be
+charmed with her conversation, and to find all her remarks witty because
+she has <em>les beaux yeux</em>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I scorn to take notice of such spiteful remarks,&#8221; returned Tom, with a
+shrug. &#8220;Girls are venomous to each other. I believe they hate to hear
+one another praised, even by a brother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hold your tongue, Tom,&#8221; was the rejoinder. &#8220;It takes my breath away to
+argue with you up this hill. I am not too ill-natured to give up my own
+bed to Miss Sefton. Let us hurry on, there&#8217;s a good boy, or they will
+arrive before us.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>As this request coincided with Tom&#8217;s private wishes, he condescended to
+walk faster; and the brother and sister were soon at the top of the
+hill, and had turned into a pretty private road bordered with trees,
+with detached houses standing far back, with long, sloping strips of
+gardens. The moon had now risen, and Bessie could distinctly see a
+little group of girls, with shawls over their heads, standing on the top
+of a flight of stone steps leading down to a large shady garden
+belonging to an old-fashioned house. The front entrance was round the
+corner, but the drawing-room window was open, and the girls had gained
+the road by the garden way, and stood shivering and expectant; while the
+moon illumined the grass terraces that ran steeply from the house, and
+shone on the meadow that skirted the garden.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>&#8220;Run in, girls; you will catch cold,&#8221; called out Bessie; but her prudent
+suggestion was of no avail, for a tall, lanky girl rushed into the road
+with the rapturous exclamation, &#8220;Why, it is our Bessie after all, though
+she looked so tall in the moonlight, and I did not know Tom&#8217;s new
+ulster.&#8221; And here Bessie was fallen upon and kissed, and handed from one
+to another of the group, and then borne rapidly down the steps and
+across the terrace to the open window.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here she is, mother; here is our Bessie, not a bit the worse. And Hatty
+ought to be ashamed of herself for making us all miserable!&#8221; exclaimed
+Katie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My Hatty sha&#8217;n&#8217;t be scolded. Mother, dear, if you only knew how sweet
+home looks after the Sheen Valley! Don&#8217;t smother me any more, girls. I
+want to tell you something that will surprise you;&#8221; and Bessie, still
+holding her mother&#8217;s hand, but looking at Hatty, gave a rapid and
+somewhat indistinct account of her meeting with Edna Sefton.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And she will have my room, mother,&#8221; continued Bessie, a little
+incoherently, for she was tired and breathless, and the girl&#8217;s
+exclamations were so bewildering.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lambert, a pale, care-worn woman, with a sweet pathetic sort of
+face, was listening with much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> perplexity, which was not lessened by the
+sight of her husband ushering into the room a handsome-looking girl,
+dressed in the most expensive fashion.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dora, my dear, this is Bessie&#8217;s fellow-sufferer in the snowdrift; we
+must make much of her, for she is the daughter of my old friend, Eleanor
+Sartoris&#8212;Mrs. Sefton now. Bessie has offered her her own room to-night,
+as it is too late for her to travel to London.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A quick look passed between the husband and wife, and a faint color came
+to Mrs. Lambert&#8217;s face, but she was too well-bred to express her
+astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are very welcome, my dear,&#8221; she said quietly. &#8220;We will make you as
+comfortable as we can. These are all my girls,&#8221; and she mentioned their
+names.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a lot of girls,&#8221; thought Edna. She was not a bit shy by nature,
+and somehow the situation amused her. &#8220;What a comfortable, homelike
+room, and what a lovely fire! And&#8212;well, of course, they were not rich;
+any one could see that; but they were nice, kind people.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This is better than the snowdrift,&#8221; she said, with a beaming smile, as
+Dr. Lambert placed her in his own easy chair, and Tom brought her a
+footstool and handed her a screen, and her old acquaintance Bessie
+helped her to remove her wraps. The whole family gathered round her,
+intent on hospitality to the bewitching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> stranger&#8212;only the &#8220;Crutch,&#8221; as
+Tom called her, tripped away to order Jane to light a fire in her room,
+and to give out the clean linen for the unexpected guest, and to put a
+few finishing touches to the supper-table.</p>
+
+<p>The others did not miss her at first. Christine, a tall, graceful girl
+who had inherited her father&#8217;s good looks, was questioning Edna about
+the journey, and the rest were listening to the answers.</p>
+
+<p>Hatty, a pale, sickly-looking girl, whose really fine features were
+marred by unhealthy sullenness and an anxious, fretful expression, was
+hanging on every word; while the tall schoolgirl Ella, and the smaller,
+bright-eyed Katie, were standing behind their mother, trying to hide
+their awkwardness and bashfulness, till Tom came to the rescue by
+finding them seats, with a whispered hint to Katie that it was not good
+manners to stare so at a stranger. Edna saw everything with quiet,
+amused eyes; she satisfied Christine&#8217;s curiosity, and found replies to
+all Mrs. Lambert&#8217;s gentle, persistent questioning. Tom, too, claimed her
+attention by all sorts of dexterous wiles. She must look at him, and
+thank him, when he found that screen for her; she could not disregard
+him when he was so solicitous about the draft from the window, so
+anxious to bring her another cushion.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I did not know you were such a ladies&#8217; man,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> Tom,&#8221; observed Dr. Lambert
+presently, in a tone that made Tom retreat with rather a foolish
+expression.</p>
+
+<p>With all his love for his children, Dr. Lambert was sometimes capable of
+a smooth sarcasm. Tom felt as though he had been officious; had, in
+fact, made a fool of himself, and drew off into the background. His
+father was often hard on him, Tom said to himself, in an aggrieved way,
+and yet he was only doing his duty, as a son of the house, in waiting on
+this fascinating young lady.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poor boy, he is very young!&#8221; thought Edna, who noticed this by-play
+with some amusement; &#8220;but he will grow older some day, and he is very
+good-looking;&#8221; and then she listened with a pretty show of interest to a
+story Dr. Lambert was telling her of when he was snowed up in Scotland
+as a boy.</p>
+
+<p>When Bessie returned she found them all in good spirits, and her
+fellow-traveller laughing and talking as though she had known them for
+years; even Tom&#8217;s brief sulkiness had vanished, and, unmindful of his
+father&#8217;s caustic tongue, he had again ventured to join the charmed
+circle.</p>
+
+<p>It was quite late before the girls retired to rest, and as Edna followed
+Bessie up the broad, low staircase, while Tom lighted them from below,
+she called out gayly. &#8220;Good-night, Mr. Lambert; it was worth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> while
+being snowed up in the Sheen Valley to make such nice friends, and to
+enjoy such a pleasant evening.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna really meant what she said, for the moment; she was capable of
+these brief enthusiasms. Pleasantness of speech, that specious coinage
+of conventionality, was as the breath of life to her. Her girlish vanity
+was gratified by the impression she had made on the Lambert family, and
+even Tom&#8217;s crude, boyish admiration was worth something.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;To be all things to all men&#8221; is sometimes taken by vain, worldly people
+in a very different sense from that the apostle intended. Girls of Edna
+Sefton&#8217;s caliber&#8212;impressionable, vivacious, egotistical, and capable of
+a thousand varying moods&#8212;will often take their cue from other people,
+and become grave with the grave, and gay with the gay, until they weary
+of their role, and of a sudden become their true selves. And yet there
+is nothing absolutely wrong in these swift, natural transitions; many
+sympathetic natures act in the same way, by very reason and force of
+their sympathy. For the time being they go out of themselves, and, as it
+were, put themselves in other people&#8217;s places. Excessive sympathy is
+capable of minor martyrdom; their reflected suffering borders upon real
+pain.</p>
+
+<p>When Bessie ushered Edna into her little room, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> looked round proudly
+at the result of her own painstaking thoughtfulness. A bright fire
+burned in the small grate, and her mother&#8217;s easy chair stood beside
+it&#8212;heavy as it was, Bessie had carried it in with her own hands. The
+best eider-down quilt, in its gay covering, was on the bed, and the new
+toilet-cover that Christine had worked in blue and white cross-stitch
+was on the table. Bessie had even borrowed the vase of Neapolitan
+violets that some patient had sent her father, and the sweet perfume
+permeated the little room.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie would willingly have heard some encomium on the snug quarters
+provided for the weary guest, but Edna only looked round her
+indifferently, and then stifled a yawn.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is there anything you want? Can I help you? Oh, I hope you will sleep
+comfortably!&#8221; observed Bessie, a little mortified by Edna&#8217;s silence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes: I am so tired that I am sure I shall sleep well,&#8221; returned
+Edna; and then she added quickly, &#8220;but I am so sorry to turn you out of
+your room.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that does not matter at all, thank you,&#8221; replied Bessie, stirring
+the fire into a cheerful blaze, and then bidding her guest good-night;
+but Edna, who had taken possession of the easy chair, exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>&#8220;Oh, don&#8217;t go yet&#8212;it is only eleven, and I am never in bed until
+twelve. Sit down a moment, and warm yourself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mother never likes us to be late,&#8221; hesitated Bessie; but she lingered,
+nevertheless. This was not an ordinary evening, and there were
+exceptions to every rule, so she knelt down on the rug a moment, and
+watched Edna taking down the long plaits of fair hair that had crowned
+her shapely head. &#8220;What lovely hair!&#8221; thought Bessie; &#8220;what a beautiful
+young creature she is altogether!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna was unconscious of the admiration she was exciting. She was looking
+round her, and trying to realize what her feelings would be if she had
+to inhabit such a room. &#8220;Why, our servants have better rooms,&#8221; she
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>To a girl of Edna&#8217;s luxurious habits Bessie&#8217;s room looked very poor and
+mean. The little strips of faded carpet, the small, curtainless
+bedstead, the plain maple washstand and drawers, the few simple prints
+and varnished bookcase were shabby enough in Edna&#8217;s eyes. She could not
+understand how any girl could be content with such a room; and yet
+Bessie&#8217;s happiest hours were spent there. What was a little shabbiness,
+or the wear and tear of homely furniture, to one who saw angels&#8217;
+footprints even in the common ways of life, and who dreamed sweet,
+innocent dreams of the splendors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> of a heavenly home? To these sort of
+natures even threadbare garments can be worn proudly, for to these free
+spirits even poverty loses its sting. It is not &#8220;how we live,&#8221; but &#8220;how
+we think about life,&#8221; that stamps our characters, and makes us the men
+and women that we are.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span><a name="III" id="III"></a>CHAPTER III.<br />
+<br />
+<small>HATTY.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> brief silence was broken by Edna.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a nice boy your brother is!&#8221; she observed, in rather a patronizing
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie looked up in some surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tom does not consider himself a boy, I assure you; he is
+one-and-twenty, and ever since he has gone to Oxford he thinks himself
+of great consequence. I dare say we spoil him among us, as he is our
+only brother now. If Frank had lived,&#8221; and here Bessie sighed, &#8220;he would
+have been five-and-twenty by this time; but he died four years ago. It
+was such a blow to poor father and mother; he was so good and clever,
+and he was studying for a doctor; but he caught a severe chill, and
+congestion of the lungs came on, and in a few days he was dead. I don&#8217;t
+think mother has ever been quite the same since his death&#8212;Frank was so
+much to her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How very sad!&#8221; returned Edna sympathetically, for Bessie&#8217;s eyes had
+grown soft and misty as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> touched this chord of sadness; &#8220;it must be
+terrible to lose any one whom one loves.&#8221; And then she added, with a
+smile, &#8220;I did not mean to hurt your feelings by calling your brother a
+boy, but he seemed very young to me. You see, I am engaged, and Mr.
+Sinclair (that is my fianc&#233;) is nearly thirty, and he is so grave and
+quiet that any one like your brother seems like a boy beside him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are engaged?&#8221; ejaculated Bessie, in an awestruck tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; it seems a pity, does it not? at least mamma says so; she thinks I
+am too young and giddy to know my own mind; and yet she is very fond of
+Neville&#8212;Mr. Sinclair, I mean. She will have it that we are not a bit
+suited to each other, and I dare say she is right, for certainly we do
+not think alike on a single point.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie&#8217;s eyes opened rather widely at this candid statement. She was a
+simple little soul, and had not yet learned the creed of emancipation.
+She held the old-fashioned views that her mother had held before her.
+Her mother seldom talked on these subjects, and Bessie had inherited
+this reticence. She listened with a sort of wondering disgust when her
+girl acquaintances chattered flippantly about their lovers, and boasted
+openly of their power over them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>&#8220;If this sort of thing ever comes to me,&#8221; thought Bessie on these
+occasions, &#8220;I shall think it too wonderful and precious to make it the
+subject of idle conversation. How can any one take upon themselves the
+responsibility of another human being&#8217;s happiness&#8212;for that is what it
+really means&#8212;and turn it into a jest? It is far too sacred and
+beautiful a thing for such treatment. I think mother is right when she
+says, &#8216;Girls of the present day have so little reticence.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She hardly knew what to make of Edna&#8217;s speech; it was not exactly
+flippant, but it seemed so strange to hear so young a creature speak in
+that cool, matter-of-fact way.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t see how people are to get on together, if they do not think
+alike,&#8221; she observed, in a perplexed voice; but Edna only laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid we don&#8217;t get on. Mother says she never saw such a couple;
+that we are always quarrelling and making up like two children; but I
+put it to you, Miss Lambert, how are things to be better? I am used to
+my own way, and Mr. Sinclair is used to his. I like fun and plenty of
+change, and dread nothing so much as being bored&#8212;<em>ennuy&#233;e</em>, in fact,
+and he is all for quiet. Then he is terribly clever, and has every sort
+of knowledge at his fingers&#8217; end. He is a barrister, and rising in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
+profession, and I seldom open a book unless it be a novel.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wonder why he chose you,&#8221; observed Bessie na&#239;vely, and Edna seemed
+much amused by her frankness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, how deliciously downright you are, Miss Lambert. Well, do you know
+I have not the faintest notion why Neville asked me to marry him, any
+more than I know why I listened to him. I tell him sometimes that it was
+the most ridiculous mistake in the world, and that either he or I, or
+both of us, must have been bewitched. I am really very sorry for him
+sometimes; I do make him so unhappy; and sometimes I am sorry for
+myself. But there, the whole thing is beyond my comprehension. If I
+could alter myself or alter Neville, things would be more comfortable
+and less unpleasantly exciting.&#8221; And here Edna laughed again, and then
+stifled another yawn; and this time Bessie declared she would not stop a
+moment longer. Christine would be asleep.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, perhaps I should only talk nonsense if you remained, and I can
+see you are easily shocked, so I will allow you to wish me good-night.&#8221;
+But, to Bessie&#8217;s surprise, Edna kissed her affectionately.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have been a Good Samaritan to me,&#8221; she said quietly, &#8220;and I am
+really very grateful.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>&#8221; And Bessie withdrew, touched by the unexpected
+caress.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a strange mixture she is!&#8221; she thought, as she softly closed the
+door. &#8220;I think she must have been badly brought up; perhaps her mother
+has spoiled her. I fancy she is affectionate by nature, but she is
+worldly, and cares too much for pleasure; anyhow, one cannot help being
+interested in her.&#8221; But here she broke off abruptly as she passed a
+half-opened door, and a voice from within summoned her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Hatty, you naughty child, are you awake? Do you know it is nearly
+twelve o&#8217;clock?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What does that matter?&#8221; returned Hatty fretfully, as Bessie groped her
+way carefully toward the bed. &#8220;I could not sleep until you had said
+good-night to me. I suppose you had forgotten me; you never thought I
+was lying here waiting for you, while you were talking to Miss Sefton.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now, Hatty, I hope you are not going to be tiresome;&#8221; and Bessie&#8217;s
+voice was a little weary; and then she relented, and said gently, &#8220;You
+know I never forget you, Hatty dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, of course not,&#8221; returned the other eagerly. &#8220;I did not mean to be
+cross. Put your head down beside me on the pillow, Bessie darling, for I
+know you are just as tired as possible. You don&#8217;t mind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> stopping with me
+for a few minutes, do you? for I have not spoken to you for three
+weeks.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I am not so tired as all that, and I am quite comfortable,&#8221; as a
+thin, soft cheek laid itself against her&#8217;s in the darkness. &#8220;What has
+gone wrong, Hatty dear? for I know by your tone you have been making
+yourself miserable about something. You have wanted me back to scold you
+into cheerfulness.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have wanted you dreadfully,&#8221; sighed Hatty. &#8220;Mother and Christine have
+been very kind, but they don&#8217;t help me as you do, and Tom teases me
+dreadfully. What do you think he said yesterday to mother? I was in the
+room and heard him myself. He actually said, &#8216;I wonder my father allows
+you all to spoil Hatty as you do. You all give in to her, however cross
+and unreasonable she is, and so her temper gets worse every day.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, you are very often cross, you know,&#8221; returned Bessie truthfully.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but I try not to be,&#8221; replied Hatty, with a little sob. &#8220;Tom would
+have been cross too if his head and back had ached as mine were aching,
+but he always feels well and strong. I think it is cruel of him to say
+such things to mother, when he knows how much I have to suffer.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tom did not mean to be unkind, Hatty; you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> are always finding fault
+with the poor boy. It is difficult for a young man, who does not know
+what an ache means, nor what it is to wake up tired, to realize what
+real suffering all your little ailments cause you. Tom is really very
+kind and good-natured, only your sharp little speeches irritate him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am always irritating some one,&#8221; moaned Hatty. &#8220;I can&#8217;t think how any
+of you can love me. I often cry myself to sleep, to think how horrid and
+disagreeable I have been in the day. I make good resolutions then, but
+the next morning I am as bad as ever, and then I think it is no use
+trying any more. Last night Tom made me so unhappy that I could not say
+my prayers.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poor little Hatty!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know you are sorry for me; you are such a dear that I cannot be
+as cross with you as I am with Tom; but, Bessie, I wish you would
+comfort me a little; if you would only tell me that I am not so much to
+blame.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We have talked that over a great many times before. You know what I
+think, Hatty; you are not to blame for your weakness; that is a trial
+laid upon you; but you are to blame if that weakness is so impatiently
+borne that it leads you to sin.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>&#8220;I am sure father thinks that I cannot help my irritability; he will
+never let Tom scold me if he is in the room.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is because father is so kind, and he knows you have such a hard
+time of it, you poor child, and that makes us all so sorry for you; but,
+Hatty, you must not let all this love spoil you; we are patient with you
+because we know your weakness, but we cannot help you if you do not help
+yourself. Don&#8217;t you recollect what dear Mr. Robertson said in his
+sermon? that &#8216;harassed nerves must be striven against, as we strive
+against anything that hinders our daily growth in grace.&#8217; He said people
+were more tolerant of this form of weakness than of any other, and yet
+it caused much misery in homes, and he went on to tell us that every
+irritable word left unspoken, every peevish complaint hushed, was as
+real a victory as though we had done some great thing. &#8216;If we must
+suffer,&#8217; he said, &#8216;at least let us suffer quietly, and not spend our
+breath in fruitless complaint. People will avoid a fretful person as
+though they were plague-tainted; and why? because they trouble the very
+atmosphere round them, and no one can enjoy peace in their
+neighborhood.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am sure Mr. Robertson must have meant me, Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, darling, no; I won&#8217;t have you exaggerate or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> judge yourself too
+harshly. You are not always cross, or we should not be so fond of you.
+You make us sad sometimes, when you sit apart, brooding over some
+imaginary grievance; that is why father calls you Little Miss
+Much-Afraid.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, you all laugh at me, but indeed the darkness is very real.
+Sometimes I wonder why I have been sent into the world, if I am not to
+be happy myself, nor to make other people happy. You are like a sunbeam
+yourself, Bessie, and so you hardly understand what I mean.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I do; but I never see any good in putting questions that we
+cannot answer; only I am quite sure you have your duty to do, quite as
+much as I have mine, only you have not found it out.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps I am the thorn in the flesh to discipline you all into
+patience,&#8221; returned Hatty quaintly, for she was not without humor.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well, then, my thorn; fulfil your mission,&#8221; returned Bessie,
+kissing her. &#8220;But I cannot keep awake and speak words of wisdom any
+longer.&#8221; And she scrambled over the bed, and with another cheerful
+&#8220;good-night,&#8221; vanished; but Hatty&#8217;s troubled thoughts were lulled by
+sisterly sympathy, and she soon slept peacefully. Late as it was before
+Bessie laid her weary head on the pillow beside her sleeping sister, it
+was long before her eyes closed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> and she sunk into utter forgetfulness.
+Her mind seemed crowded with vague images and disconnected thoughts.
+Recollections of the hours spent in Sheen Valley, the weird effect of
+the dusky figures passing and repassing in the dim, uncertain light, the
+faint streaks of light across the snow, the dull winter sky, the eager
+welcome of the lonely girl, the long friendly talk ripening into budding
+intimacy, all passed vividly before her, followed by Hatty&#8217;s artless
+confession.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poor little thing!&#8221; thought Bessie compassionately, for there was a
+specially soft place in her heart for Hatty. She had always been her
+particular charge. All Hatty&#8217;s failures, her miserable derelictions of
+duty, her morbid self-accusations and nervous fancies, bred of a sickly
+body and over-anxious temperament, were breathed into Bessie&#8217;s
+sympathizing ear. Hatty&#8217;s feebleness borrowed strength and courage from
+Bessie&#8217;s vigorous counsels. She felt braced by mere contact with such a
+strong, healthy organization. She was always less fretful and impatient
+when Bessie was near; her cheery influence cleared away many a cloud
+that threatened to obscure Hatty&#8217;s horizon.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bear ye one another&#8217;s burdens,&#8221; was a command literally obeyed by
+Bessie in her unselfish devotion to Hatty, her self-sacrificing efforts
+to cheer and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> rouse her; but she never could be made to understand that
+there was any merit in her conduct.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I know Hatty is often cross, and ready to take offence,&#8221; she would say;
+&#8220;but I think we ought to make allowances for her. I don&#8217;t think we
+realize how much she has to bear&#8212;that she never feels well.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is all very well,&#8221; Christine would answer, for she had a quick
+temper too, and would fire up after one of Hatty&#8217;s sarcastic little
+speeches; &#8220;but it is time Hatty learned self-control. I dare say you are
+often tired after your Sunday class, but no one hears a cross word from
+you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I keep it all in,&#8221; Bessie returned, laughing. &#8220;But I dare say I
+feel cross all the same. I don&#8217;t think any of us can guess what it must
+be to wake depressed and languid every morning. A louder voice than
+usual does not make our heads ache, yet I have seen Hatty wince with
+pain when Tom indulged in one of his laughs.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know,&#8221; replied Christine, only half convinced by this. &#8220;Of
+course it is very trying, but Hatty must be used to it by this time, for
+she has never been strong from a baby; and yet she is always bemoaning
+herself, as though it were something fresh.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is not easy to get used to this sort of trouble,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>&#8221; answered Bessie,
+rather sadly. &#8220;And I must say I always feel very sorry for Hatty,&#8221; and
+so the conversation closed.</p>
+
+<p>But in her heart Bessie said: &#8220;It is all very well to preach patience,
+and I for one am always preaching it to Hatty, but it is not so easy to
+practice it. Mother and Christine are always praising me for being so
+good tempered; but if one feels strong and well, and has a healthy
+appetite and good digestion, it is very easy to keep from being cross;
+but in other ways I am not half so good as Hatty; she is the purest,
+humblest little soul breathing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>In spite of late hours, Bessie was downstairs the next morning at her
+usual time; she always presided at the breakfast-table. Since her eldest
+son&#8217;s death, Mrs. Lambert had lost much of her strength and energy, and
+though her husband refused to acknowledge her as an invalid, or to treat
+her as one, yet most of her duties had devolved upon Bessie, whose
+useful energy supplemented her mother&#8217;s failing powers.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie had briefly hinted at her family sorrow; she was not one at any
+time to dwell upon her feelings, nor to indulge in morbid retrospection,
+but it was true that the loss of that dearly loved son and brother had
+clouded the bright home atmosphere. Mrs. Lambert had borne her trouble
+meekly, and had striven to comfort her husband who had broken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> down
+under the sudden blow. She spoke little, even to her daughters, of the
+grief that was slowly consuming her; but as time went on, and Dr.
+Lambert recovered his cheerfulness, he noticed that his wife drooped and
+ailed more than usual; she had grown into slow quiet ways that seemed to
+point to failing strength.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bessie, your mother is not as young as she used to be,&#8221; he said
+abruptly, one morning, &#8220;She does not complain, but then she is not one
+of the complaining sort; she was always a quiet creature; but you girls
+must put your shoulders to the wheel, and spare her as much as
+possible.&#8221; And from that day Bessie had become her mother&#8217;s crutch.</p>
+
+<p>It was a wonderful relief to the harassed mother when she found a
+confidante to whom she could pour out all her anxieties.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Lambert was not a rich man; his practice was large, but many of his
+patients were poor, and he had heavy expenses. The hilly roads and long
+distances obliged him to keep two horses. He had sent both his sons to
+Oxford, thinking a good education would be their best inheritance, and
+this had obliged him to curtail domestic expenses. He was a careful man,
+too, who looked forward to the future, and thought it his duty to lay
+aside a yearly sum to make provision for his wife and children.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>&#8220;I have only one son now, and Hatty will always be a care, poor child,&#8221;
+he said more than once.</p>
+
+<p>So, though there was always a liberal table kept in the doctor&#8217;s house,
+it being Dr. Lambert&#8217;s theory that growing girls needed plenty of
+nourishing food, the young people were taught economy in every other
+matter. The girls dressed simply and made their own gowns. Carpets and
+furniture grew the worse for wear, and were not always replaced at once.
+Tom grumbled sometimes when one of his Oxford friends came to dinner. He
+and Christine used to bewail the shabby covers in the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is such a pretty room if it were only furbished off a bit,&#8221; Tom said
+once. &#8220;Why don&#8217;t you girls coax the governor to let you do it up?&#8221; Tom
+never used the word governor unless he was in a grumbling mood, for he
+knew how his father hated it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think father can afford anything this year, Tom,&#8221; Bessie
+returned, in her fearless way. &#8220;Why do you ask your grand friends if you
+think they will look down on us? We don&#8217;t pretend to be rich people.
+They will find the chairs very comfortable if they will condescend to
+sit on them, and the tables as strong as other people&#8217;s tables; and
+though the carpet is a little faded, there are no holes to trip your
+friends up.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>&#8220;Oh, shut up, Betty!&#8221; returned Tom, restored to good humor by her honest
+sarcasm. &#8220;Ferguson will come if I ask him. I think he is a bit taken
+with old Chrissy.&#8221; And so ended the argument.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br />
+<br />
+<small>A COSY MORNING.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Breakfast</span> was half over before Miss Sefton made her appearance; but her
+graceful apology for her tardiness was received by Dr. Lambert in the
+most indulgent manner. In spite of his love of punctuality, and his
+stringent rules for his household in this respect, he could not have
+found it in his heart to rebuke the pretty, smiling creature who told
+him so na&iuml;vely that early rising disagreed with her and put her out for
+the day.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I tell mamma that I require a good deal of sleep, and, fortunately, she
+believes me,&#8221; finished Edna complacently.</p>
+
+<p>Well, it was not like the doctor to hold his peace at this glaring
+opposition to his favorite theory, and yet, to Tom&#8217;s astonishment, he
+forebore to quote that threadbare and detestable adage, &#8220;Early to bed
+and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise&#8221;&#8212;proverbial
+and uncomfortable philosophy that Tom hated with all his foolish young
+heart. Tom,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> in his budding manhood, often thought fit to set this
+domestic tyranny at defiance, and would argue at some length that his
+father was wrong in laying down rules for the younger generation.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If my father likes to get up early, no one can find any fault with him
+for doing it,&#8221; Tom would say; &#8220;but he need not impose his venerable and
+benighted opinions upon us. Great men are not always wise; even
+intellectual veterans like Dr. Johnson, and others I can mention, if you
+only give me time, have their hallucinations, fads, fancies, and
+flummeries. For example, every one speaks of Dr. Johnson with respect;
+no one hints that he had a bee in his bonnet, and yet a man who could
+make a big hole for a cat and a little one for a kitten&#8212;was it Johnson
+or Newton who did that?&#8212;must have had a screw loose somewhere. And so
+it is with my father; early rising is his hobby&#8212;his pet theory&#8212;the
+keystone that binds the structure of health together. Well, it is a
+respectable theory, but my father need not expect an enlightened and
+progressive generation to subscribe to it. The early hours of the
+morning are not good for men and mice, only for birds and bricklayers,
+and worms weary of existence.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Tom looked on, secretly amused, as his father smiled indulgently at Miss
+Sefton&#8217;s confession of indolence. He asked her how she had slept, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+made room for her beside him, and then questioned her about her intended
+journey, and finally arranged to drive her to the station before he went
+on his usual round.</p>
+
+<p>An hour afterward the whole family collected in the hall to see Miss
+Sefton off. Edna bid them good-bye in her easy, friendly fashion, but as
+she took Bessie&#8217;s hand, she said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye, dear. I have an idea that we shall soon meet again. I shall
+not let you forget me;&#8221; and then she put up her face to be kissed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am not likely to forget you,&#8221; thought Bessie, as Edna waved her
+little gloved hand to them all; &#8220;one could soon get fond of her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How nice it must be to be rich,&#8221; sighed Christine, who was standing
+beside Bessie. &#8220;Miss Sefton is very little older than we are, and yet
+she has lovely diamond and emerald rings. Did you see her dressing bag?
+It was filled up so beautifully; its bottles silver mounted; it must
+have cost thirty guineas, at least. And then her furs; I should like to
+be in her place.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should not envy Miss Sefton because she is rich,&#8221; retorted Hatty
+disdainfully. &#8220;I would rather change places with her because she is so
+strong and so pretty. I did like looking at her so much, and so did Tom.
+Didn&#8217;t you, Tom?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>&#8220;I say, I wish you girls would shut up or clear off,&#8221; responded Tom
+crossly; for things felt a little flat this morning. &#8220;How is a fellow to
+work with all this chattering going on round him?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, you haven&#8217;t opened your books yet,&#8221; replied Hatty, in an aggrieved
+voice; but Bessie hastily interposed:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tom is quite right to want the room to himself. Come along, girls, let
+us go to mother in the morning-room; we might do some of our plain
+sewing, and then I can tell you about Aunt Charlotte. It is so long
+since we have been cosy together, and our needles will fly while we
+talk&#8212;eh, Hatty?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There are those night shirts to finish,&#8221; said Christine disconsolately;
+&#8220;they ought to have been done long ago, but Hatty was always saying her
+back ached when I wanted her help, and I could not get on with them by
+myself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Never mind, we will all set to work vigorously,&#8221; and Bessie tripped
+away to find her work basket. The morning-room, as they called it, was a
+small room leading out of the drawing-room, with an old-fashioned bay
+window looking out on the garden.</p>
+
+<p>There was a circular cushioned seat running round the bay, with a small
+table in the middle, and this was the place where the girls loved to sit
+and sew, while their tongues kept pace with their needles. When<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> Hatty&#8217;s
+back ached, or the light made her head throb with pain, she used to
+bring her low chair and leave the recess to Bessie and Christine.</p>
+
+<p>The two younger girls went to school.</p>
+
+<p>As Hatty brought her work (she was very skilful with the needle, and
+neither of her sisters could vie with her in delicate embroidery), she
+slipped a cold little hand into Bessie&#8217;s.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is so lovely to have you back, Betty, dear,&#8221; she whispered. &#8220;I woke
+quite happy this morning to know I should see you downstairs.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think it is lovely to be home,&#8221; returned Bessie, with a beaming
+smile. &#8220;I am sure that is half the pleasure of going away&#8212;the coming
+back again. I don&#8217;t know how I should feel if I went to stay at any
+grand place; but it always seems to me now that home is the most
+delicious place in the world; it never looks shabby to me as it does to
+Tom; it is just homelike.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lambert, who was sitting apart from the girls, busy with her weekly
+accounts, looked up at hearing her daughter&#8217;s speech.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is right, dear,&#8221; she said gently, &#8220;that is just how I like to hear
+you speak; it would grieve me if my girls were to grow discontented with
+their home, as some young ladies do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bessie is not like that, mother,&#8221; interposed Hatty eagerly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, Hatty, we know that, do we not? What do you think father said the
+other day, Bessie? He said, &#8216;I shall be glad when we get Bessie back,
+for the place does not seem like itself when she is away.&#8217; That was a
+high compliment from father.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed it was,&#8221; returned Bessie; and she blushed with pleasure. &#8220;Every
+one likes to be missed; but I hope you didn&#8217;t want me too much, mother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, dear; but, like father, I am glad to get you back again.&#8221; And the
+mother&#8217;s eyes rested fondly on the girl&#8217;s face. &#8220;Now you must not make
+me idle, for I have all these accounts to do, and some notes to write.
+Go on with your talking; it will not interrupt me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It spoke well for the Lambert girls that their mother&#8217;s presence never
+interfered with them; they talked as freely before her as other girls do
+in their parent&#8217;s absence. From children they had never been repressed
+nor unnaturally subdued; their childish preferences and tastes had been
+known and respected; no thoughtless criticism had wounded their
+susceptibility; imperceptibly and gently maternal advice had guided and
+restrained them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We tell mother everything, and she likes to hear it,&#8221; Ella and Katie
+would say to their school-fellows.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We never have secrets from her,&#8221; Ella added.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> &#8220;Katie did once, and
+mother was so hurt that she cried about it. Don&#8217;t you recollect, Katie?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and it is horrid of you to remind me,&#8221; returned Katie wrathfully,
+and she walked away in high dudgeon; the recollection was not a pleasant
+one. Katie&#8217;s soft heart had been pierced by her mother&#8217;s unfeigned grief
+and tender reproaches.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are the only one of all my little girls who ever hid anything from
+me. No, I am not angry with you, Katie, and I will kiss you as much as
+you like,&#8221; for Katie&#8217;s arms were round her neck in a moment; &#8220;but you
+have made mother cry, because you do not love her as she does you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mother shall never cry again on my account,&#8221; thought Katie; and,
+strange to say, the tendency to secretiveness in the child&#8217;s nature
+seemed cured from that day. Katie ever afterward confessed her
+misdemeanors and the accidents that happen to the best-regulated
+children with a frankness that bordered on bluntness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have done it, mother,&#8221; she would say, &#8220;but somehow I don&#8217;t feel a bit
+sorry. I rather liked hurting Ella&#8217;s feelings; it seemed to serve her
+right.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps when we have talked about it a little you will feel sorry,&#8221; her
+mother would reply quietly; &#8220;but I have no time for talking just now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lambert was always very busy; on these occasions<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> she never found
+time for a heated and angry discussion. When Katie&#8217;s hot cheeks had
+cooled a little, and her childish wrath had evaporated, she would
+quietly argue the point with her. It was an odd thing that Katie
+generally apologized of her own accord afterward&#8212;generally owned
+herself the offender.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Somehow you make things look different, mother,&#8221; she would say, &#8220;I
+can&#8217;t think why they all seem topsy-turvy to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;When you are older I will lend you my spectacles,&#8221; her mother returned,
+smiling. &#8220;Now run and kiss Ella, and pray don&#8217;t forget next time that
+she is two years older; it can&#8217;t possibly be a younger sister&#8217;s duty to
+contradict her on every occasion.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was in this way that Mrs. Lambert had influenced her children, and
+she had reaped a rich harvest for her painstaking, patient labors with
+them, in the freely bestowed love and confidence with which her grown-up
+daughters regarded her. Now, as she sat apart, the sound of their fresh
+young voices was the sweetest music to her; not for worlds would she
+have allowed her own inward sadness to damp their spirits, but more than
+once the pen rested in her hand, and her attention wandered.</p>
+
+<p>Outside the wintry sun was streaming on the leafless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> trees and snowy
+lawns; some thrushes and sparrows were bathing in the pan of water that
+Katie had placed there that morning.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Let us go for a long walk this afternoon,&#8221; Christine was saying,
+&#8220;through the Coombe Woods, and round by Summerford, and down by the
+quarry.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Even Bessie forgets that it will be Frank&#8217;s birthday to-morrow,&#8221;
+thought Mrs. Lambert. &#8220;My darling boy, I wonder if he remembers it
+there; if the angels tell him that his mother is thinking of him. That
+is just what one longs to know&#8212;if they remember;&#8221; and then she sighed,
+and pushed her papers aside, and no one saw the sadness of her face as
+she went out. Meanwhile Bessie was relating how she had spent the last
+three weeks.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t think how you could endure it,&#8221; observed Christine, as soon as
+she had finished. &#8220;Aunt Charlotte is very nice, of course; she is
+father&#8217;s sister, and we ought to think so; but she leads such a dull
+life, and then Cronyhurst is such an ugly village.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is not dull to her, but then you see it is her life. People look on
+their own lives with such different eyes. Yes, it was very quiet at
+Cronyhurst; the roads were too bad for walking, and we had a great deal
+of snow; but we worked and talked, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> sometimes I read aloud, and so
+the days were not so long after all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should have come home at the end of a week,&#8221; returned Christine;
+&#8220;three weeks at Cronyhurst in the winter is too dreadful. It was real
+self-sacrifice on your part, Bessie; even father said so; he declared it
+was too bad of Aunt Charlotte to ask you at such a season of the year.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t see that. Aunt Charlotte liked having me, and I was very
+willing to stay with her, and we had such nice talks. I don&#8217;t see that
+she is to be pitied at all. She has never married, and she lives alone,
+but she is perfectly contented with her life. She has her garden and her
+chickens, and her poor people. We used to go into some of the cottages
+when the weather allowed us to go out, and all the people seemed so
+pleased to see her. Aunt Charlotte is a good woman, and good people are
+generally happy. I know what Tom says about old maids,&#8221; continued Bessie
+presently, &#8220;but that is all nonsense. Aunt Charlotte says she is far
+better off as she is than many married people she knows. &#8216;Married people
+may double their pleasures,&#8217; as folks say, &#8216;but they treble their cares,
+too,&#8217; I have heard her remark; &#8216;and there is a great deal to be said in
+favor of freedom. When there is no one to praise there is no one to
+blame, and if there is no one to love there is no one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> to lose, and I
+have always been content myself with single blessedness.&#8217; Do you
+remember poor Uncle Joe&#8217;s saying, &#8216;The mare that goes in single harness
+does not get so many kicks?&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know Aunt Charlotte&#8217;s way of talking; but I dare say no one
+wanted to marry her, so she makes the best of her circumstances.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie could not help laughing at Christine&#8217;s bluntness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, you are right, Chrissy; but Aunt Charlotte is not the least
+ashamed of the fact. She told me once that no one had ever fallen in
+love with her, &#8216;I could not expect them to do so,&#8217; she remarked
+candidly. &#8216;As a girl I was plain featured, and so shy and awkward that
+your Uncle Joe used to tell me that I was the only ugly duckling that
+would never turn into a swan.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a shame of Uncle Joe!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I <a name="dont" id="dont"></a><ins title="original has dont">don&#8217;t</ins> think Aunt Charlotte took it much to heart. She says
+her hard life and many troubles drove all nonsense thoughts out of her
+head. Why, grandmamma was ill eight years, you know, and Aunt Charlotte
+nursed her all that time. I am sure when she used to come to my bedside
+of a night, and tuck me up with a motherly kiss, I used to think her
+face looked almost beautiful, it was so full of kindness. Somehow I
+fancy when I am old,&#8221; added<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> Bessie pensively, &#8220;I shall not care so much
+about my looks nor my wrinkles, if people will only think I am a
+comfortable, kind-hearted sort of a person.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will be the dearest old lady in the world,&#8221; returned Hatty,
+dropping her work with an adoring look at her Betty. &#8220;You are cosier
+than other people now, so you are sure to be nicer than ever when you
+are old. No wonder Aunt Charlotte loved to have you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a little flatterer you are, Hatty! It is a comfort that I don&#8217;t
+grow vain. Do you know, I think Aunt Charlotte taught me a great deal.
+When you get over her little mannerisms and odd ways, you soon find out
+what a good woman she really is. She is always thinking of other people;
+what she can do to lighten their burdens; and little things give her so
+much pleasure. She says the first violet she picks in the hedgerow, or
+the sight of a pair of thrushes building their nest in the acacia tree,
+makes her feel as happy as a child; &#8216;for in spring,&#8217; she said once, &#8216;all
+the world is full of young life, and the buds are bursting into flowers,
+and they remind me that one day I shall be young and beautiful too.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I should like to go and stay with Aunt Charlotte,&#8221; observed
+Hatty, &#8220;if you think she would care to have me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am sure she would, dear. Aunt Charlotte loves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> to take care of
+people. You most go in the summer, Hatty; the cottage is so pretty then,
+and you could be out in the garden or in the lanes all day. June is the
+best month, for they will be making hay in the meadows, and you could
+sit on the porch and smell the roses, and watch Aunt Charlotte&#8217;s bees
+filling their honey bags. It is just the place for you, Hatty&#8212;so still
+and quiet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This sort of talk lasted most of the morning, until Ella and Katie
+returned from school, and Tom sauntered into the room, flushed with his
+mental labors, and ready to seek relaxation in his sisters&#8217; company.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie left the room and went in search of her mother; when she
+returned, a quarter of an hour later, she found Tom sulky and Hatty in
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is no use trying to keep the peace,&#8221; observed Christine, in a vexed
+tone. &#8220;Tom will tease Hatty, and then she gets cross, and there is no
+silencing either of them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Come with me, Hatty dear, and help me put my room in order. I have to
+finish my unpacking,&#8221; said Bessie soothingly. &#8220;You have been working too
+long, and so has Tom. I shall leave him to you, Chrissy.&#8221; And as Hatty
+only moaned a little in her handkerchief, Bessie took the work forcibly
+away, and then coaxed her out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why is Tom so horrid to me?&#8221; sobbed Hatty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> &#8220;I don&#8217;t believe he loves me
+a bit. I was having such a happy morning, and he came in and spoiled
+all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Never mind about Tom. No one cares for his teasing, except you, Hatty.
+I would not let him see you mind everything he chooses to say. He will
+only think you a baby for crying. Now, do help me arrange this drawer,
+for dinner will be ready in a quarter of an hour, and the floor is just
+strewn with clothes. If it makes your head ache to stoop, I will just
+hand you the things; but no one else can put them away so tidily.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The artful little bait took. Of all things Hatty loved to be of use to
+any one. In another moment she had dried her eyes and set to work, her
+miserable little face grew cheerful, and Tom&#8217;s sneering speeches were
+forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, I do believe that is Hatty laughing!&#8221; exclaimed Christine, as the
+dinner-bell sounded, and she passed the door with her mother. &#8220;It is
+splendid, the way Bessie manages Hatty. I wish some of us could learn
+the art, for all this wrangling with Tom is so tiresome.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bessie never loses patience with her,&#8221; returned her mother; &#8220;never lets
+her feel that she is a trouble. I think you will find that is the secret
+of Bessie&#8217;s influence. Your father and I are often grateful to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> her.
+&#8216;What would that poor child do without her?&#8217; as your father often says;
+and I do believe her health would often suffer if Bessie did not turn
+her thoughts away from the things that were fretting her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>&#8221;</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>CHAPTER V.<br />
+<br />
+<small>THE OATLANDS POST-MARK.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">One</span> day, about three months after her adventure in the Sheen Valley,
+Bessie was climbing up the steep road that led to the Lamberts&#8217; house.
+It was a lovely spring afternoon, and Bessie was enjoying the fresh
+breeze that was blowing up from the bay. Cliffe was steeped in sunshine,
+the air was permeated with the fragrance of lilac blended with the faint
+odors of the pink and white May blossoms. The flower-sellers&#8217; baskets in
+the town were full of dark-red wallflowers and lovely hyacinths. The
+birds were singing nursery lullabies over their nests in the Coombe
+Woods, and even the sleek donkeys, dragging up some invalids from the
+Parade in their trim little chairs, seemed to toil more willingly in the
+sweet spring sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How happy the world looks to-day!&#8221; said Bessie to herself; and perhaps
+this pleasant thought was reflected in her face, for more than one
+passer-by glanced at her half enviously. Bessie did not notice them; her
+soft gray eyes were fixed on the blue sky<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> above her, or on the glimpses
+of water between the houses. Just before she turned into the avenue that
+led to the house, she stopped to admire the view. She was at the summit
+of the hill now; below her lay the town; where she stood she could look
+over the housetops to the shining water of the bay, with its rocky
+island in the middle. Bessie always called it the bay, but in reality it
+resembled a lake, it was so landlocked, so closed in by the opposite
+shore, except in one part; but the smooth expanse of water, shining in
+the sunlight, lacked the freedom and wild freshness of the open sea,
+though Bessie would look intently to a distant part, where nothing, as
+she knew, came between her and the Atlantic. &#8220;If we only went far
+enough, we should reach America; that gives one the idea of freedom and
+vastness,&#8221; she thought.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie held the idea that Cliffe-on-Sea was one of the prettiest places
+in England, and it was certainly not devoid of picturesqueness.</p>
+
+<p>The houses were mostly built of stone, hewn out of the quarry, and were
+perched up in surprisingly unexpected places&#8212;some of them built against
+the rock, their windows commanding extensive views of the surrounding
+country. The quarry was near the Lamberts&#8217; house, and the Coombe Woods
+stretched above it for miles. Bessie&#8217;s favorite walk was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> long road
+that skirted the woods. On one side were the hanging woods, and on the
+other the bay. Through the trees one could see the gleam of water, and
+on summer evenings the Lambert girls would often sit on the rocks with
+their work and books, preferring the peaceful stillness to the Parade
+crowded with strangers listening to the band. When their mother or Tom
+was with them, they would often linger until the stars came out or the
+moon rose. How glorious the water looked then, bathed in silvery
+radiance, like an enchanted lake! How dark and sombre the woods! What
+strange shadows used to lurk among the trees! Hatty would creep to
+Bessie&#8217;s side, as they walked, especially if Tom indulged in one of his
+ghost stories.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What is the use of repeating all that rubbish, Tom?&#8221; Bessie would say,
+in her sturdy fashion. &#8220;Do you think any one would hear us if we sung
+one of our glees? That will be better than talking about headless bogies
+to scare Hatty. I like singing by moonlight.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Well, they were just healthy, happy young people, who knew how to make
+the most of small pleasures. &#8220;Every one could have air and sunshine and
+good spirits,&#8221; Bessie used to say, &#8220;if they ailed nothing and kept their
+consciences in good order. Laughing cost nothing, and talking was the
+cheapest amusement she knew.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>&#8220;That depends,&#8221; replied her father oracularly, on overhearing this
+remark. &#8220;Words are dear enough sometimes. You are a wise woman, Bessie,
+but you have plenty to learn yet. We all have to buy experience
+ourselves. I don&#8217;t want you to get your wisdom second-hand; second-hand
+articles don&#8217;t last; so laugh away, child, as long as you can.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I love spring,&#8221; thought Bessie, as she walked on. &#8220;I always did like
+bright things best. I wonder why I feel so hopeful to-day, just as
+though I expected something pleasant to happen. Nothing ever does
+happen, as Chriss says. Just a letter from Tom, telling us his news, or
+an invitation to tea with a neighbor, or perhaps a drive out into the
+country with father. Well, they are not big things, but they are
+pleasant, for all that. I do like a long talk with father, when he has
+no troublesome case on his mind, and can give me all his attention. I
+think there is no treat like it; but I mean Hatty to have the next turn.
+She has been good lately; but she looks pale and dwindled. I am not half
+comfortable about her.&#8221; And here Bessie broke off her cogitations, for
+at that moment Katie rushed out of the house and began dancing up and
+down, waving a letter over her head.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a time you have been!&#8221; cried the child excitedly. &#8220;I have been
+watching for you for half an hour. Here is a letter for your own self,
+and it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> not from Aunt Charlotte nor Uncle Charles, nor any old fogy
+at all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Give it to me, please,&#8221; returned Bessie. &#8220;I suppose it is from Tom,
+though why you should make such a fuss about it, as though no one ever
+got a letter, passes my comprehension. No, it is from Miss Sefton; I
+recognize her handwriting;&#8221; which was true, as Bessie had received a
+note from Edna a few days after she had left them, conveying her own and
+her mother&#8217;s thanks for the kind hospitality she had received.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course it is from Miss Sefton; there&#8217;s the Oatlands post-mark. Ella
+and I were trying to guess what was in it; we thought that perhaps, as
+Mrs. Sefton is so rich, she might have sent you a present for being so
+kind to her daughter; that was Ella&#8217;s idea. Do open it quickly, Bessie;
+what is the use of looking at the envelope?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid I can&#8217;t satisfy your curiosity just yet, Kitty. Hatty is
+waiting for the silks I have been matching, and mother will want to know
+how old Mrs. Wright is. Duty before pleasure,&#8221; finished Bessie, with
+good-humored peremptoriness, as she marched off in the direction of the
+morning-room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bessie is getting dreadfully old-maidish,&#8221; observed Katie, in a sulky
+voice. &#8220;She never used to be so proper. I suppose she thinks it is none
+of my business.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>When Bessie had got through her list of commissions she sat down to
+enjoy her letter quietly, but before she had read many lines her color
+rose, and a half-stifled exclamation of surprise came from her lips;
+but, in spite of Hatty&#8217;s curious questions, she read steadily to the
+end, and then laid the letter on her mother&#8217;s lap.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mother, do let me hear it,&#8221; implored Hatty, with the persistence of
+a spoiled child. &#8220;I am sure there is something splendid about Bessie,
+and I do hate mysteries.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So do I, Hatty; we think alike there. Shall I read it aloud, my dear?&#8221;
+and as Bessie nodded, Mrs. Lambert read the letter in her quiet, silvery
+voice:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">My Dear Miss Lambert</span>,&#8221; it began; &#8220;I told you that I should not allow
+you to forget me, so, you see, I am keeping my promise like a reliable
+young woman. Mamma says I have made a bad commencement to my
+letter&#8212;that self-praise is no recommendation. I think I remember that
+profoundly wise saying in copy-book days; but I hold a more worldly view
+of the subject. I think people are taken at their own value; so, on
+principle, I never undervalue myself; and the gist of all this is that I
+do not intend to be forgotten by a certain young lady who enacted the
+part of Good Samaritan in the Sheen Valley.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now, as I must candidly confess to a sincere wish for a better
+acquaintance with this same young lady, I am writing in my own and
+mamma&#8217;s name to beg you to favor us with your company at The Grange for
+a few weeks.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You must not think this is a very unconventional proceeding on our
+part, as our parents were old friends. Mamma is writing to Dr. Lambert
+by the same post, and she means to say all sorts of pretty things to
+induce him to intrust you to our care.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wish I had the power of persuasion. Mamma has such a knack of saying
+nice things, but indeed you must come. The Grange is such a dear old
+house, and we know such pleasant people, and I want you to see our
+Kentish lanes, and indeed mamma and I will make you so comfortable. I
+don&#8217;t mention Richard, because he is nobody, and he never interferes
+with our friends.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now I am taking it for granted that you will not refuse me, so I will
+proceed to tell you our arrangements. Mamma and I have been in town the
+last five weeks, and we are both of us tired to death of Vanity Fair, so
+we mean to go back to Oatlands next week. You may come to us as soon
+after that as you like; fix your own day and your train, and I will be
+at the station to meet you.</p>
+
+<p class="r1">&#8220;I remain, yours most sincerely,</p>
+<p class="r2">&#8220;<span class="smcap">Edna Sefton</span>.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Bessie, how delightful! But I don&#8217;t like to spare you again so
+soon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now, Hatty, don&#8217;t be selfish. You must not grudge Bessie the first real
+treat she has ever had offered to her. We have none of us had such a
+chance before. Fancy staying at a place like The Grange, and seeing lots
+of nice people.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wish you could go in my place, Chrissy, dear. I am not quite sure how
+I should like staying with strange people; we have got into homely ways,
+never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> going anywhere except to Aunt Charlotte&#8217;s or Uncle Charles&#8217;, and
+I don&#8217;t know how I should get on with rich people like the Sefton&#8217;s;
+besides, father and mother may not wish me to accept the invitation,&#8221;
+glancing at her mother&#8217;s thoughtful face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We must see what your father says about it,&#8221; returned Mrs. Lambert,
+rousing herself with difficulty from her abstraction. &#8220;I would not talk
+about it any more, girls, until we know his wishes. It will only
+disappoint Bessie if she makes up her mind that she would like to accept
+the invitation, and father thinks it wiser to refuse. Let us put it out
+of our heads until he comes home, and he and I will have a talk about
+it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, that will be best,&#8221; returned Bessie, putting the letter in the
+envelope. &#8220;Father will not be home until late, but that does not matter;
+to-morrow will do quite well.&#8221; And, to her sister&#8217;s surprise and
+disappointment, she refused to say any more on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mother is quite right,&#8221; she observed, as Hatty fussed and grumbled at
+her silence. &#8220;If we talk about it, I shall just long to go, and shall be
+vexed and disappointed if father wishes me to refuse.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you might coax him to change his mind. Father never likes
+disappointing us when we set our hearts on anything,&#8221; urged Hatty.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>&#8220;No, indeed; I never like arguing things with father. He is not one to
+make up his mind in a hurry, like some people; he thinks over a thing
+thoroughly, and then he gives his opinion. If he does not wish me to go,
+he will have a good reason for saying so. I never found either father or
+mother wrong yet, and I am not going to find fault with them now. Don&#8217;t
+let us talk any more about it, Hatty. I want to think of something
+else.&#8221; But, in spite of this wise resolution, Bessie did think a good
+deal about the letter, and in her heart she hoped that her father would
+allow her to accept Miss Sefton&#8217;s tempting invitation.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Lambert did not return home that night until long after his girls
+had retired to rest, and to Bessie&#8217;s surprise he said nothing to her at
+breakfast; but just as she was leaving the room to give out the stores,
+as usual, he called her back. &#8220;Oh, by the by, Bessie,&#8221; he observed, &#8220;I
+have to drive out as far as Castleton this afternoon. I will take you
+with me if you care to go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I always care to go with you, father dear,&#8221; replied Bessie, and then
+she hesitated, as she remembered Hatty&#8217;s pale cheeks; &#8220;but I think you
+ought to take Hatty instead; it would do her so much good, and she does
+so love a drive.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I think you shall be my companion this afternoon; I will take Hatty
+to-morrow,&#8221; replied the doctor, as he took up his paper again.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>&#8220;Good child, she always thinks of poor Hatty,&#8221; he said to himself, and
+his eyes glistened. &#8220;They are all good girls, but not one of them is so
+unselfish as my little Betty; she takes after her mother in
+that. Dora never thinks of herself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie went about her household tasks with a light heart, for she had
+the prospect of a pleasant afternoon before her. The drive to Castleton
+would be lovely, and she would hear what her father had to say about the
+letter. So she was ready and waiting by the time the pretty little
+victoria came around to the door, and as Dr. Lambert stood on the porch,
+he thought the happy, sunshiny face looked very attractive under the new
+gray hat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You look very smart, Bessie,&#8221; he said, smiling. &#8220;Have I seen that very
+becoming hat before?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Only last Sunday,&#8221; returned Bessie brightly; &#8220;but I always put on my
+best things when I drive with you, that your daughter may do you
+credit;&#8221; for Bessie in her heart thought her father the handsomest man
+in Cliffe; and indeed many people admired the doctor&#8217;s clever, refined
+face, and quiet, genial manners.</p>
+
+<p>The sturdy little roan trotted briskly down the lower road, as it was
+called, and Bessie leaned back and looked dreamily at the golden ripples
+that lay on the water, while the branches overhead threw flickering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
+shadows on the road before them, until her father&#8217;s voice roused her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You and I are to have some talk together, I believe. Would you like to
+see Mrs. Sefton&#8217;s letter, Bessie? Your mother showed me the one you
+received from her daughter.&#8221; And as Bessie eagerly assented, he handed
+it to her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is a very nice letter,&#8221; she observed, as soon as she had finished
+it; &#8220;it could not be more kindly expressed.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; Mrs. Sefton is a ladylike woman, and she knows exactly what to say.
+It is a grand thing to have tact.&#8221; And then he paused for a moment, and
+continued in an amused voice, &#8220;The world is a very small place after
+all. I have lived long enough in it not to be surprised at running
+against all sorts of odd people in all sorts of odd places, but I must
+own I was a little taken aback when you brought Miss Sefton into my
+house that night.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You knew Mrs. Sefton when you were a young man, father?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose I knew her fairly well, for I was engaged to her for six
+months.&#8221; And as Bessie started, &#8220;Well, you will think that an odd speech
+for a father to make to his daughter, but, you see, I know our Bessie is
+a reliable little woman, who can keep her tongue silent. I have my
+reasons for telling you this. You have always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> been your mother&#8217;s
+companion, as well as my right hand, and I would not let you go to The
+Grange in ignorance of the character of its inhabitants.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, father, do you really mean me to go?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We will come to that presently; let me finish what I was saying. I was
+fool enough to engage myself to a beautiful girl, knowing her to be
+unsuitable in every way for a poor man&#8217;s wife, and I dare say I should
+have persisted in my blindness to the bitter end, if I had not been
+jilted by the young lady.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear father!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear little Betty, please don&#8217;t speak in that pitying tone; it was
+the best thing that could have happened to me. I dare say I had a bad
+time of it; young men are such fools; but I soon met your mother, and
+she healed all wounds; but if Eleanor Sartoris treated me badly, she met
+with her punishment. The man she married was a worthless sort of a
+fellow; he is dead, so I need not mind saying so now. He was handsome
+enough and had all the accomplishments that please women, but he could
+not speak the truth. I never knew a man who could lie so freely, and in
+other respects he was equally faulty, but Eleanor was infatuated, and
+she would marry him against the advice of her friends, and the first
+thing she found out was that he had deceived her on one point. She knew
+that he had married when almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> a boy, and his wife had been long dead,
+but he kept from her that he had a son living. His excuse was that he
+had heard her say that nothing would induce her to undertake the duties
+of a stepmother, and that he feared a refusal on account of Richard. In
+this he had overreached himself; she never forgave the deception, and
+she barely tolerated the poor boy. I am afraid, from what I heard, that
+their short married life was not a happy one. Eleanor had a proud,
+jealous temper, but she was truthful by nature, and nothing was so
+odious in her eyes as falsehood and deceit. I can feel sorry for her,
+for no woman could respect a character like Sefton&#8217;s, but I have always
+blamed her for her hardness to her stepson. His father doted on him, and
+Richard was the chief subject of their dissension on his death bed. He
+begged his wife to be kinder to the boy, but I do not know if this
+appeal softened her. The property belongs, of course, to her stepson,
+and in a sense she and her daughter are dependent on him, but it is not
+a united household. I know very little about the young man, except that
+he is industrious and fond of out-of-door pursuits, and farms his own
+estate; but I hear he is a little clownish in appearance. Now we are
+stopping, because I have a patient to see here, but I shall not be ten
+minutes, and we will resume our conversation presently.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>&#8221;</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br />
+<br />
+<small>LITTLE MISS MUCH-AFRAID.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Bessie</span> had plenty of food for meditation while Dr. Lambert paid his
+visit to his patient, and he found her apparently absorbed in a brown
+study when he returned to the carriage.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Father dear,&#8221; she said, rousing herself, as he placed himself beside
+her, &#8220;I have been thinking over all you have told me, and I cannot help
+wondering why you wish me to visit Mrs. Sefton, when she treated you so
+badly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Lambert was silent for a minute; the question was not an easy one to
+answer. His wife had said the very same thing to him the previous
+evening:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wonder that you care to let Bessie visit at The Grange, when Eleanor
+Sartoris treated you so badly.&#8221; And then she added, &#8220;I think she is very
+much to blame, too, for her behavior to her stepson. Margaret Tillotson
+tells me that he is an honest, good-hearted fellow, though not very
+clever, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> that want of appreciation has made him shy and awkward.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But he had been able to satisfy his wife without much difficulty. All
+their married life there had never been a shadow of a doubt between
+them; her calm, reasonable judgment had wholly approved her husband&#8217;s
+conduct on all occasions; whatever he did or said had been right in her
+eyes, and she had brought up her daughters to think the same.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, do you know, Bessie,&#8221; he said playfully, &#8220;I have more reasons
+than one for wishing you to go to The Grange? I have taken a fancy to
+Miss Sefton, and I want her mother to be acquainted with my daughter;
+and I think it will be good for you to extend your knowledge of the
+world. You girls are tied too much to your mother&#8217;s apron-strings, and
+you must learn to do without her sometimes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This was all very well, but though Bessie smilingly accepted this
+explanation of her father&#8217;s motives in permitting her to go to Oatlands,
+she was clever enough to know that more lay behind.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Lambert had long ago forgiven the injury that had been done to him.
+His nature was a generous one; good had come out of evil, and he was
+tolerant enough to feel a kindly interest in Mrs. Sefton as an old
+friend. It is true she had created her own troubles, but in spite of
+that he could be sorry for her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> Like a foolish woman she had built her
+life&#8217;s hopes upon a shifting, sandy foundation; she had looked on the
+outward appearance, and a fair exterior had blinded her to the
+hollowness beneath. The result was bitterness and disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should like her to see our Bessie,&#8221; he had said to his wife. &#8220;Bessie
+is just like a sunbeam; she will do her good, and even if things are
+different from what she sees at home, it will do her no harm to know how
+other people live. Our girls are good girls, but I do not want them to
+live like nuns behind a grating; let them go out into the world a
+little, and enlarge their minds. If it were Christine, I might hesitate
+before such an experiment, but I have perfect confidence in Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And his wife&#8217;s answer to this had been:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am quite sure you are right, Herbert, and I am perfectly willing to
+let Bessie visit your old friend.&#8221; And so the matter ended. The doctor
+got his way as usual, simply by wishing for it.</p>
+
+<p>The drive was a long one, but it seemed short to Bessie, and she was
+quite sorry when it was over.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, father dear, it has been such a treat,&#8221; she said, with a
+loving little squeeze of his arm; and then she ran in to find her
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lambert looked up inquiringly as Bessie took off her hat and
+gloves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, my dear, have father and you settled it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed, mother; and I am really to go. Father seems to like the
+idea. He has evidently fallen in love with Miss Sefton. I am afraid I am
+a great deal too much excited about it at present, but Hatty will soon
+damp me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poor child! she never likes you to go away. She does not mean to be
+selfish, and I know she struggles hard to control her feelings, but she
+will have a good cry when she hears you are going to Oatlands.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We must not let her mope, mother. If I thought it were good for Hatty I
+would stay at home, to prevent her feeling so miserable, but it would be
+false kindness to give in to her; she would hate herself for her
+selfishness, and she would not be a bit happy if she knew she had
+prevented my visit. I would rather see her fret before I go, and bear it
+as well as I can, and then I know she will cheer up soon and be looking
+forward to my return.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are quite right, Bessie, and neither your father nor I would allow
+you to sacrifice yourself for Hatty. Too much indulgence on your part
+would only feed the poor child&#8217;s nervous fancies. I know she feels her
+parting with you for a week or two as a serious trial, and I dare say it
+is a trial to her, but she must take it as one, and not selfishly spoil
+your pleasure.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> Now we will forget Hatty for a few minutes; there is
+something else troubling me. How are you to be fitted out for your
+visit, when I dare not ask your father for any more money?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I have thought about that, too,&#8221; returned Bessie briskly. &#8220;I was
+reviewing my wardrobe all the time father was at Castleton House. He was
+quite half an hour away, so I had plenty of time. I was a little worried
+at first, thinking how I should manage, but somehow I made it all
+straight. Listen to me, mother, dear,&#8221; as Mrs. Lambert sighed and shook
+her head. &#8220;Miss Sefton has been here, so she knows we are not rich
+people, and she will not expect to see many smart dresses. I don&#8217;t want
+to pretend to be what I am not. We cannot afford to dress grandly, nor
+to have many new frocks, but I am sure we are just as happy without
+them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but you never have stayed with rich people before, Bessie,&#8221;
+returned her mother sadly. &#8220;You do not know how shabby your old things
+will look beside other people&#8217;s silks and satins. Father does not think
+about these things, and I do not like to remind him; but you ought to
+have a new jacket, though we did say the old one would do this year.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now, mother, will you be quiet, please, and listen to me? for I am
+brimful of ideas, and I won&#8217;t have you worry. The jacket must do, for I
+do not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> mean to ask father for a new one. I have my gray dress and hat,
+and father thinks they are very becoming; and there is my Indian muslin
+Uncle Charles gave me for best occasions, and if you will let me buy a
+few yards of white nun&#8217;s-cloth Chrissy and I will contrive a pretty
+dinner-dress. I like white best, because one can wear different flowers,
+and so make a change. Perhaps I must have a pair of new gloves, and some
+shoes; but those won&#8217;t cost much.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are easily satisfied, darling,&#8221; replied Mrs. Lambert fondly. &#8220;Yes,
+you shall have the nun&#8217;s-cloth, and I will give you some of my lace to
+trim it. And there are the pearls that I wore on my wedding-day. Your
+father is so fond of them, but I always told him they were put aside for
+you. Wait a moment; they are in my escritoire, and you may as well have
+them now.&#8221; And Mrs. Lambert unlocked the door, and opening a little box,
+placed the necklace in Bessie&#8217;s hand. It consisted of three rows of tiny
+pearls, and was very simple and pretty.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mother, how lovely!&#8221; exclaimed the girl. &#8220;Is it really for me? That
+is just what I wanted; my gold chain is so thin that I hardly ever dare
+to wear it. It has been broken twice. But this is far prettier.&#8221; And
+Bessie clasped the little necklace around her neck, and then went off
+proudly to show her <a name="treasure" id="treasure"></a><ins title="original has treassure">treasure</ins><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> to Christine and Hatty, while
+Mrs. Lambert shed a few tears at the thought how little she had to give
+her girls. The next moment she dashed them away indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I ought to be ashamed of myself,&#8221; she thought. &#8220;What would Herbert say
+if he found me crying in this childish way? What do our girls want with
+ornaments and pretty dresses? They have youth and good looks and
+<a name="manners" id="manners"></a><ins title="no visible fullstop in original">manners.</ins> My Bessie is a perfect gentlewoman, in spite of her shabby
+frocks. No one could help being pleased with her gentle, modest ways. I
+expect it is my pride. I did not want Mrs. Sefton to think we are not
+rich. But I am wrong; my girls are rich. They are rich in having such a
+father, and in their own happy natures.&#8221; And then Mrs. Lambert thought
+of those other ornaments that she desired for them&#8212;the ornament of a
+meek and quiet spirit; the priceless jewels of innocence and purity,
+which are the fairest adornments of a young girl.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;These will not be lacking,&#8221; she said to herself. &#8220;My Bessie&#8217;s
+unobtrusive goodness will soon make itself felt.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie had made up her mind not to trouble about her scanty wardrobe,
+and she was quite happy planning the nun&#8217;s-cloth dress with Christine.</p>
+
+<p>But though Dr. Lambert said nothing, he thought a great deal, and the
+result of his cogitations was, a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> five-pound note was slipped into
+Bessie&#8217;s hand the next evening.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Go and buy yourself some finery with that,&#8221; he observed quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie could hardly sleep that night, she was so busy spending the money
+in anticipation; and the very next day she was the delighted purchaser
+of a new spring jacket and had laid out the remainder of the five-pound
+note in a useful black and white tweed for daily use, and a pretty lilac
+cotton, and she had even eked out a pair of gloves.</p>
+
+<p>Three dresses to be made; no wonder they were busy; even Mrs. Lambert
+was pressed into the service to sew over seams and make buttonholes.</p>
+
+<p>Hatty never complained her back ached when she worked for Bessie; her
+thin little hands executed marvelous feats of fine workmanship; all the
+finer parts were intrusted to Hatty.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I feel almost as though I were going to be married,&#8221; observed Bessie,
+as she surveyed the fresh, dainty dresses. &#8220;I never had more than one
+new gown at a time. Now they are finished, and you are tired, Hatty, and
+you must go and lie down, like a good child.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am not tired, not a bit,&#8221; returned Hatty touchily; &#8220;and I am going
+out with Ella.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie held her peace. Hatty&#8217;s temper had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> very trying for the last
+three days; she had slaved for Bessie to the detriment of her health,
+but had worn an injured manner all the time.</p>
+
+<p>She would not join in the conversation, nor understand a joking remark.
+When Christine laughed at her in a good-humored way, Hatty pursed up her
+lips, and drew herself up in a huffy manner, and would not condescend to
+speak a word. She even rejected Bessie&#8217;s caresses and little attempts at
+petting. &#8220;Don&#8217;t, Bessie. I must go on with my work; I wish you would
+leave me alone,&#8221; she would say pettishly.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie did leave her alone, but it made her heart ache to see the lines
+under Hatty&#8217;s eyes, that showed she had cried herself to sleep. She knew
+it was unhappiness and not temper that was the cause of her
+irritability.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She is ashamed of letting me know that she cannot bear me to go away,&#8221;
+she thought. &#8220;She is trying to get the better of her selfishness, but it
+conquers her. I will leave her alone for a little, and then I will have
+it all out. I could not go away and leave her like that.&#8221; For Bessie&#8217;s
+warm, affectionate nature could not endure the thought of Hatty&#8217;s pain.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have so much, and she has so little,&#8221; she said to herself, and her
+pity blunted all Hatty&#8217;s sharp, sarcastic little speeches and took the
+sting out of them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> &#8220;Poor little thing! she does not mean half she
+says,&#8221; she remarked, as a sort of apology to Christine, when Hatty had
+marched off with Ella.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know how you put up with her as you do,&#8221; observed Christine,
+whose patience had been sorely exercised that morning by Hatty&#8217;s
+tempers. &#8220;She is treating you as badly as possible. I would rather have
+been without her help, if I had been you; we might have had Miss Markham
+in for two days; that would have shamed Hatty nicely.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want to shame her, Chrissy, dear; poor little Hatty! when she
+has been working so beautifully, too. She is worrying herself about my
+going away, and that makes her cross.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;As though no one else would miss you,&#8221; returned Christine stormily, for
+she was not quite devoid of jealousy. &#8220;But there, it is no use my
+talking; you will all treat Hatty as though she were a baby, and so she
+behaves like a spoiled child. I should like to give her a bit of my
+mind.&#8221; And Christine tossed her pretty head and swept off the last
+dress, while Bessie cleared the table.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie&#8217;s visit was fixed for the following Tuesday, so on Sunday evening
+she made up her mind that the time was come for speaking to Hatty. As it
+happened, they were keeping house together, for the rest of the family,
+the servants included, had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> gone to church. Hatty had just settled
+herself in a corner of the couch, with a book in her hand, expecting
+that Bessie would follow her example (for the Lambert girls were all
+fond of reading), when a hand was suddenly interposed between her eyes
+and the page.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This is our last quiet evening, Hatty, and I am going to talk instead
+of read, so you may as well shut up that big book.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It takes two to talk,&#8221; observed Hatty, rather crossly, &#8220;and I am not in
+the mood for conversation, so you had better let me go on with &#8216;Bishop
+Selwyn&#8217;s Life.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are not in the mood for reading either,&#8221; persisted Bessie, and
+there was a gleam of fun in her eyes. &#8220;When you pucker up your forehead
+like that, I know your thoughts are not on your book. Let us have a
+comfortable talk instead. You have not been like yourself the last week,
+not a bit like my Hatty; so tell me all about it, dear, and see if I
+cannot make you feel better.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, Bessie, don&#8217;t try; it is not any use, unless I jump into somebody
+else&#8217;s body and mind. I can&#8217;t make myself different. I am just Hatty, a
+tiresome, disagreeable, selfish little thing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a lot of adjectives! I wonder they don&#8217;t smother you. You are not
+big enough to carry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> so many. I think I could word that sentence better.
+I should just say, &#8216;Hatty is a poor, weak little body to whom mole-hills
+are mountains, and the grasshopper a burden.&#8217; Does not that sound
+nicer?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, if it were true,&#8221; returned Hatty sorrowfully, and then her
+ill-humor vanished. &#8220;No, don&#8217;t pet me, Bessie; I don&#8217;t deserve it,&#8221; as
+Bessie stroked her hand in a petting sort of a way. &#8220;I have been cross
+and ill-tempered all the week, just unbearable, as Christine said; but
+oh, Bessie, it seemed as though I could not help it. I was so miserable
+every night to think you were going away, that I could not sleep for
+ever so long, and then my head ached, and I felt as though I were strung
+on wires when I came down the next morning, and every time people
+laughed and said pleasant things I felt just mad, and the only relief
+was to show every one how disagreeable I could be.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Hatty&#8217;s description of her overwrought feelings was so droll that Bessie
+with some difficulty refrained from laughing outright, but she knew how
+very real all this was to Hatty, so she exercised self-control, and
+said, quite gravely:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And so you wanted to make us all miserable, too. That was hardly kind,
+was it, when we were all so sorry for you? I do think you have a great
+deal to bear, Hatty. I don&#8217;t mean because you are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> so weak in health;
+that could be easily borne; but it must be so sad always to look on the
+dark side of things. Of course, in some sense, we all project our own
+shadows; but you are not content with your own proper shadow, you go
+poking and peering about for imaginary ones, and so you are dark all
+round.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But your going away to Oatlands is not imaginary,&#8221; returned Hatty
+piteously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, you foolish child. But I hope you do not grudge me a pleasant
+visit. That would be a great piece of substantial selfishness on your
+part, of which, I trust, my Hatty would not be capable. Supposing I gave
+in to this ridiculous fancy and said, &#8216;Hattie hates me to go away, so I
+will just stop at home, and Miss Sefton shall be disappointed.&#8217; I wonder
+how you would like that?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That would not please me, either. I am not so selfish as that. Oh,
+Bessie, do tell me how I am to conquer this nervous dread of losing you.
+It is not selfishness, for I do love to have treats; but when you go
+away I don&#8217;t seem to take any pleasure in anything; it is all so flat
+and disagreeable. Sometimes I lie awake and cry when I think what I
+should do if you were to die. I know how silly and morbid it is, but how
+am I to help it?&#8221; And here Hatty broke down, and hid her face on
+Bessie&#8217;s shoulder.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br />
+<br />
+<small>IN THE KENTISH LANES.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Bessie</span> did not make any answer for a minute or two, but her eyes were a
+little dim as she heard Hatty sob.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I must not break the bruised reed,&#8221; she said to herself. &#8220;Hatty&#8217;s world
+is a very little one; she is not strong enough to come out of herself,
+and take wider views; when she loves people, she loves them somehow in
+herself; she can&#8217;t understand the freedom of an affection that can be
+happy in the absence of its object. I am not like Hatty; but then our
+natures are different, and I must not judge her. What can I say that
+will help her?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Can&#8217;t you find anything to say to me, Bessie dear?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Plenty; but you must wait for it to come. I was just thinking for
+you&#8212;putting myself in your place, and trying to feel as you do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was getting very low down when you spoke; it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> was quite creepy among
+the shadows. &#8216;So this is how Hatty feels,&#8217; I said to myself, and did not
+like it at all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You would not like to be me, Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What an ungrammatical sentence! Poor little me! I should think not; I
+could not breathe freely in such a confined atmosphere. Why don&#8217;t you
+give it up and let yourself alone? I would not be only a bundle of fears
+and feelings if I were you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it is easy to talk, but it is not quite so easy to be good.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am not asking you to be good. We can&#8217;t make ourselves good, Hatty;
+that lies in different hands. But why don&#8217;t you look on your unhappy
+nature as your appointed cross, and just bear with yourself as much as
+you expect others to bear with you? Why not exercise the same patience
+as you expect to be shown to you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hardly understand you, Bessie. I ought to hate myself for my
+ill-temper and selfishness, ought I not?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It seems to me that there are two sorts of hatred, and only one of them
+is right. We all have two natures. Even an apostle could say, &#8216;Oh,
+wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this
+death?&#8217; Even St. Paul felt the two natures warring within him. How can
+you and I, then, expect to be exempt from this conflict?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>&#8220;Don&#8217;t put yourself in the same category with me, Bessie. You have
+crushed your lower nature, if you ever had it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, hush!&#8221; replied her sister, quite shocked at this. &#8220;You can&#8217;t know
+what you are talking about.&#8221; And here her voice trembled a little, for
+no one was more conscious of her faults and shortcomings. Bessie could
+remember the time when the conflict had been very hard; when her
+standard of duty had been lower than that she held now; when she had
+been as careless and indifferent as many girls of her age, until Divine
+guidance had led her feet into better paths; and knowing this, in her
+humility she could be tolerant of others.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You do not know what you are saying, Hatty, or you would not hurt me by
+such a speech; it is only your love for me that blinds you. What I want
+to tell you is this&#8212;that you must not be so impatient; you waste all
+your strength in saying hard things about yourself, instead of fighting
+your faults. Why don&#8217;t you say to yourself, &#8216;I am a poor, weak little
+creature, but my Creator knows that too, and he bears with me. I cannot
+rid myself of my tiresome nature; it sticks to me like a Nessus
+shirt&#8216;&#8212;you know the old mythological story, Hatty&#8212;&#8216;but it is my cross,
+a horrid spiky one, so I will carry it as patiently as I can. If it is
+not always light, I will grope my way through the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> shadows; but my one
+prayer and my one effort shall be to prevent other people suffering
+through me?&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Bessie, that is beautiful!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will find nothing else will help you to fight your bogies; do try
+it, darling. Be merciful to your poor little self; &#8216;respect the possible
+angel in you,&#8217; as Mr. Robertson said. You will get rid of all your
+faults and fancies one day, as your namesake did in the river. You won&#8217;t
+always be poor little Hatty, whose back aches, and who is so cross;
+there is no pain nor crossness in the lovely land where all things are
+new.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, if we were only there now, Bessie, you and I, safe and happy!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I would rather wait till my time comes. I am young and strong enough to
+find life beautiful. Don&#8217;t be cowardly, Hatty; you want to drop behind
+in the march, before many a gray-haired old veteran. That is because you
+are weak and tired, and you fear the long journey; but you forget,&#8221; and
+here Bessie dropped her voice reverently, &#8220;that we don&#8217;t journey alone,
+any more than the children of Israel did in the wilderness. We also have
+our pillar of cloud to lead us by day, and our pillar of fire by night
+to give us light. Mother always said what a type of the Christian
+pilgrimage the story of the Israelites is; she made us go through it all
+with her, and I remember all she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> told me. Hark! I think I hear
+footsteps outside the window; the servants are coming in from church.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Wait a minute, Bessie, before you let them in. You have done me so much
+good; you always do. I will try not to mope and vex mother and Christine
+while you are away.&#8221; And Hatty threw her arms penitently round her
+sister&#8217;s neck.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie returned her kisses warmly, and left the room with a light heart.
+Her Sunday evening had not been wasted if she had given the cup of cold
+water in the form of tender sympathy to one of Christ&#8217;s suffering little
+ones.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie felt her words were not thrown away when she saw Hatty&#8217;s brave
+efforts to be cheerful the next day, and how she refrained from sharp
+speeches to Christine; she did not even give way when Bessie bade her
+good-bye.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will remember our Sunday talk, Hatty, dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I do remember it,&#8221; with a quivering lip, &#8220;and I am trying to march,
+Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All right, darling, and I shall soon be back, and we can keep step
+again. I will write you long letters, and bring you back some ferns and
+primrose roots,&#8221; and then Bessie waved her hand to them all, and jumped
+in the brougham, for her father was going to take her to the station.</p>
+
+<p>It must be confessed that Bessie felt a trifle dull<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> when the train
+moved off, and she left her father standing on the platform. With the
+exception of short visits to her relatives, that were looked on in the
+light of duties, she had never left home before. But this feeling soon
+wore off, and a pleasant sense of exhilaration, not unmixed with
+excitement followed, as the wide tracts of country opened before her
+delighted eyes, green meadows and hedgerows steeped in the pure
+sunlight. Bessie was to be met at the station by some friend of the
+Seftons, as the country-bred girl knew little about London, and though a
+short cab drive would deposit her at Charing Cross, it would be far
+pleasanter for her to have an escort. Mrs. Sefton had suggested Mrs.
+Sinclair, and Dr. Lambert had been much relieved by her thoughtfulness.</p>
+
+<p>As the train drew up to the platform Bessie jumped out, and stood
+eagerly looking about her for the lady whom she expected to see, and she
+was much surprised when a gentlemanly looking man approached her, and
+lifting his hat, said, with a pleasant smile:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I believe I am addressing Miss Lambert.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, certainly; that is my name,&#8221; returned Bessie, in rather an
+<a name="embarrassed" id="embarrassed"></a><ins title="original has embarrased">embarrassed</ins> manner.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah, that is all right, and I have made no mistake. Miss Lambert, my
+mother is so seriously indisposed that she was unable to meet you
+herself, but you must allow me to offer my services instead. Now I will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
+look after your luggage, and then I will find you a cab. Will you come
+with me, please? The luggage is at the other end.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am so sorry to trouble you,&#8221; returned Bessie. &#8220;I have only one box&#8212;a
+black one, with &#8216;E. L.&#8217; on the cover.&#8221; And then she stood aside quietly,
+while Mr. Sinclair procured a porter and identified the box; and
+presently she found herself in a cab, with her escort seated opposite to
+her, questioning her politely about her journey, and pointing out
+different objects of interest on their way.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie&#8217;s brief embarrassment had soon worn off; and she chatted to her
+new companion in her usual cheerful manner. She liked Mr. Sinclair&#8217;s
+appearance&#8212;he looked clever, and his manners were quiet and well bred.
+He did not seem young; Edna had told her that he was thirty but he
+looked quite five years older.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wonder how you recognized me so quickly?&#8221; Bessie observed presently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was not very difficult to identify you,&#8221; he returned quietly. &#8220;I saw
+a young lady who seemed rather strange to her surroundings, and who was
+evidently, by her attitude, expecting some one. I could tell at once you
+were not a Londoner.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid I must have looked very countrified,&#8221; returned Bessie, in
+an amused tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pardon me, I meant no such invidious comparison.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> People from the
+country have an air of greater freshness about them, that is all. You
+live at Cliffe, do you not? I was never there, but it is rather an
+interesting place, is it not?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think it a dear place,&#8221; returned Bessie enthusiastically; &#8220;but then
+it is my home, so I am not unprejudiced. It is very unlike other places.
+The streets are so steep, and some of the houses are built in such high,
+out-of-the-way nooks, you look up and see steps winding up the hill, and
+there is a big house perched up among the trees, and then another. You
+wonder how people care to climb up so many steps; but then, there is the
+view. I went over one of the houses one day, and from every window there
+was a perfect panorama. You could see miles away. Think what the sunsets
+must be from those windows!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You live lower down the hill, then?&#8221; with an air of polite interest.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, in such a quiet, secluded corner; but we are near the quarry
+woods, and there are such lovely walks. And then the bay; it is not the
+real open sea you know, but it is so pretty; and we sit on the rocks
+sometimes to watch the sunset. Oh, I should not like to live anywhere
+<a name="else" id="else"></a><ins title="original has question mark">else!&#8221;</ins></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not in London, for example?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, not for worlds! It is very amusing to watch the people, but one
+seems to have no room to breathe freely.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>&#8220;We are pretty crowded, certainly,&#8221; returned Mr. Sinclair; &#8220;but some of
+us would not care to live anywhere else, and I confess I am one of those
+people. The country is all very well for a month or two, but to a
+Londoner it is a sort of stagnation. Men like myself prefer to be at the
+heart of things&#8212;to live close to the centre of activity. London is the
+nucleus of England; not only the seat of government, but the focus of
+<a name="intellect" id="intellect"></a><ins title="original has inintellect">intellect</ins>, of art, of culture, of all that makes life
+worth living; and please do not put me down as a cockney, Miss Lambert,
+if I confess that I love these crowded streets. I am a lawyer, you know,
+and human nature is my study.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I quite understand you,&#8221; returned Bessie, with the bright intelligence
+that was natural to her. She was beginning to think Edna a fortunate
+girl. &#8220;There must be more in her than I thought, or this clever man
+would not have chosen her,&#8221; she said to herself; for Bessie, in her
+girlish innocence, knew little of the law of opposites, or how an
+intellectual or scientific man will sometimes select for his life
+companion a woman of only ordinary intelligence, who will, nevertheless,
+adorn her husband&#8217;s home by her simple domestic virtues. A wife does not
+need to be a moral whetstone to sharpen her husband&#8217;s wits by the
+fireside, neither would it enhance his happiness to find her filling
+reams of foolscap paper with choice specimens of prose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> and poetry;
+intelligent sympathy with his work is all he demands, and a loving,
+restful companion, who will soothe his hours of depression, who is never
+too weary or self-absorbed to listen to the story of his successes or
+failures.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I shall be down at The Grange in a week or two&#8212;that is, if my mother
+be better; and then I hope we shall renew our acquaintance,&#8221; were Mr.
+Sinclair&#8217;s parting words as he took leave of Bessie; and Bessie
+sincerely echoed this wish.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He is the sort of a man father would like,&#8221; she thought, as the train
+moved slowly out of the station.</p>
+
+<p>This was paying a great compliment to Mr. Sinclair, for Dr. Lambert was
+rather severe on the young men of the day. &#8220;I don&#8217;t know what has come
+to them,&#8221; he would remark irritably; &#8220;young men nowadays call their
+father &#8216;governor,&#8217; and speak to him as though he were their equal in
+age. There is no respect shown to elders. A brainless young puppy will
+contradict a man twice his age, and there is not even the same courtesy
+shown to the weaker sex either. I have heard young men and young
+women&#8212;young ladies, I suppose I ought to say&#8212;who address each other in
+a &#8216;hail-fellow-well-met&#8217; sort of manner, but what can you expect,&#8221; in a
+disgusted tone, &#8220;when the girls talk slang, and ape their young
+brothers? I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> think the &#8216;sweet madame&#8217; of our great-grandmothers&#8217; times
+preferable to these slipshod manners. I would rather see our girls live
+and die in single blessedness than marry one of those fellows.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Father, we don&#8217;t want to marry any one, unless he is as nice as you,&#8221;
+replied Christine, on overhearing this tirade, and Bessie had indorsed
+this speech.</p>
+
+<p>It was rather late in the afternoon when Bessie reached her destination,
+and she was feeling somewhat weary and dusty as she stood on the
+platform beside her box. The little station was empty, but as Bessie was
+waiting to question the porter, a man-servant came up to her and touched
+his hat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Miss Sefton is outside with the pony-carriage,&#8221; he said civilly. &#8220;I
+will look after the luggage, ma&#8217;am&#8212;there is a cart waiting for it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, thank you!&#8221; returned Bessie, and she went quickly through the
+little waiting-room. A young man in knickerbockers, with a couple of
+large sporting dogs, was talking to the station-master, and looked after
+her as she passed; but Bessie did not notice him particularly; her eyes
+were fixed on the road, and on a pony-carriage drawn up under the trees.
+Miss Sefton waved her whip when she saw Bessie, and drove quickly up to
+the door. She looked prettier than ever in her dark-blue cambric and
+large shady hat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How do you do, Miss Lambert? I am delighted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> to see you again. How
+punctual you are. Jump in. Ford will look after your luggage. This is a
+very different meeting, is it not, from our last? No snow about, but a
+very hot sun for June. Where is your sunshade? You will want it. Yes,
+that is right; put it up&#8212;my hat shades me. Now then, Ford, are you
+ready? Go on, Jack. What are you about, Jill? Are not my ponies pretty,
+Miss Lambert? Richard gave them to me last birthday, but I am afraid I
+plagued him a good deal beforehand to provoke such unusual generosity.
+There is nothing like teasing when you want a thing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie smiled, but remained silent; she was tired, and not quite
+inclined for repartee. They had turned into a long, lovely lane, so
+narrow that no vehicle could have passed them, and the thick hedgerows
+were full of pink and white briar roses and other wild flowers; on
+either side lay hop fields. Bessie uttered a delighted exclamation.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I told you you would admire our Kentish lanes. They are pretty
+now, but in the winter they are not quite so pleasant. Well, did Mrs.
+Sinclair meet you, as she promised?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, her son came instead; he said his mother was seriously indisposed,
+and unable to keep her engagement.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Neville met you. How extremely odd! How on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> earth did you discover each
+other? Were you very much embarrassed, Miss Lambert?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; it was a little strange at first, but Mr. Sinclair was very kind
+and pleasant, and soon put me at my ease.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Neville always gets on with ladies; there is certainly no fault to
+find with him in that respect. His civility is natural to him; he is
+just as polite to an old woman with a market basket and a few apples
+tied up in a blue spotted handkerchief as he is to a lady whose dress
+has been made by Worth.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I call that true politeness,&#8221; returned Bessie warmly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There is not much of the precious commodity to be found in our days;
+the young men one meets in society are not cut after that pattern. And
+so Mrs. Sinclair is ailing again?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Seriously indisposed,&#8217; was Mr. Sinclair&#8217;s expression; and he looked
+rather grave, I thought.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear creature, Neville always looks grave, as though he were engaged
+in a criminal investigation. He is a barrister, you see, and he troubles
+himself if his mother&#8217;s finger aches. The dear old lady is always
+ailing, more or less, but there is never much the matter&#8212;a creaking
+door; you know the sort; only Neville always makes the worst of it. Now,
+look here, Miss Lambert, that is what we call the village&#8212;just those
+few cottages and the inn; there is not even a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> church; we have to walk
+over to Melton, a mile and a half away. Isn&#8217;t that pond pretty, with the
+ducks on it? and there is a flock of geese. Now we have only to turn
+down this road and there is The Grange.&#8221; And as Miss Sefton pointed with
+her whip, Bessie saw the outlines of a large red house between the
+trees.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br />
+<br />
+<small>AT THE GRANGE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">As</span> Miss Sefton spoke the lane widened before them, and the hedgerows
+gave place to a short avenue of elms, the sunlight filtering through the
+thick interlaced branches, and throwing quivering shadows on the white
+road below; a low white gate opened into a meadow where some cattle were
+grazing, and on the right hand side was a large, straggling red house,
+with picturesque stables half smothered in ivy. The hall door stood open
+and a fine Scotch deerhound lay basking in the afternoon sun; he roused
+himself lazily as the pony carriage stopped before the door, and as
+Bessie alighted he came up to her wagging his tail slowly, and put his
+long, slender nose into her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a beautiful creature!&#8221; exclaimed Bessie, who was exceedingly fond
+of all dumb animals. &#8220;Look how friendly he is, as though he were
+welcoming me to The Grange.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sefton, who was patting the sleek sides of Jack and Jill, looked
+round carelessly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mac is a good old dog, but he is not always so amiable to strangers; he
+has his likes and dislikes, as we humans have, only I must tell Richard
+that he has taken to you&#8212;he is his property. Now let us go and find
+mamma.&#8221; And Edna locked her arm in Bessie&#8217;s, and, followed closely by
+the deerhound, led her into the house.</p>
+
+<p>There was no servant in attendance; a strange hush and stillness seemed
+to pervade the place. Bessie almost felt oppressed by it. The hall was
+large and dark, with a smooth, slippery floor, and was panelled in dark
+oak; oak settles and large carved antique cabinets were ranged round the
+walls. The great fireplace was filled with green boughs, and a tiger
+skin, with a huge grinning head and eyes, lay before it. The quiet
+little country girl had never seen such a hall in her life.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Take care; our oak floors are slippery to people who are unused to
+them,&#8221; observed Edna. &#8220;Mamma is in the drawing-room, I suppose.&#8221; And she
+opened the door and ushered her companion into a handsome room, with
+three windows opening on to a lawn. A lady, who was sitting on a couch
+reading, rose as she perceived the two girls, and crossed the room with
+a slow, stately step.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mamma, I have brought Miss Lambert.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am very glad to see her, Edna. My dear,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>&#8221; taking Bessie&#8217;s hand, and
+kissing her cheek, &#8220;you are very welcome for your father&#8217;s sake.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; returned Bessie, with unusual shyness, for Mrs. Sefton&#8217;s
+stateliness rather awed her. Both her words and her manner were kind;
+nevertheless, Bessie found it difficult to respond; even when Mrs.
+Sefton had established her in the corner of the couch, and was
+questioning her with polite interest about her journey, she found
+herself answering in almost monosyllabic replies, as though she were
+tongue-tied.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I cannot tell what came over me,&#8221; she wrote the next day to her mother;
+&#8220;I never felt so bashful and stupid in my life; and yet Mrs. Sefton was
+most kind and considerate, only her graciousness seemed to crush me. She
+is very handsome, far handsomer than her daughter, slightly stout, but
+such a grand looking figure; Miss Sefton and I look like pygmies beside
+her; but there is one thing that strikes me about her&#8212;a sort of
+hardness when she is not speaking. I never saw a mouth closed so
+tightly; and then there is no rest in her face. I could not help
+thinking about father&#8217;s story as I looked at her; it is not the face of
+a happy woman. I can imagine that disappointment in her husband has
+hardened her. I admire her very much; she fascinates and yet repels me,
+but I do not think I could love her very much. Miss Sefton does, but
+then her mother dotes on <a name="her" id="her"></a><ins title="original has no closing quotation mark">her.&#8221;</ins><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Bessie was devoutly wishing herself at home during that first quarter of
+an hour, but after a few minutes Mrs. Sefton&#8217;s questions ceased, and she
+touched a silver-mounted gong beside her, and almost as though by magic
+the door was thrown noiselessly back, and the butler entered with the
+tea-tray, followed by a footman in smart livery. Bessie wondered what
+her mother would have thought of the delicate Worcester china that was
+placed on a low table beside Mrs. Sefton, while a second table was
+quickly covered with bread and butter and dainty-looking cakes. Edna had
+thrown off her hat, and had coaxed Bessie to do the same; then she
+proceeded to wait on her guest. A little table was placed at Bessie&#8217;s
+elbow, and all manner of sweet cakes forced on her. The very tea had a
+different flavor from her mother&#8217;s tea; it was scented, fragrant, and
+mellow with rich country cream. Bessie sipped her tea, and crumbled her
+rich cake, and felt as though she were in a dream. Outside the
+smooth-shaven lawn stretched before the windows, there was a tennis-net
+up, and some balls and rackets were lying on the grass. Some comfortable
+wicker chairs were placed under a large elm at the bottom of the lawn.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you play tennis?&#8221; asked Edna abruptly, as she noticed Bessie&#8217;s eyes
+were wandering to the garden.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A little; I am fond of the game, but I have not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> played a great deal;
+it takes time, and there is so much to do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna plays beautifully,&#8221; observed Mrs. Sefton. &#8220;It is a fine exercise
+for young people, if they are moderate and do not over-exert themselves.
+We have some neighbors, the Athertons, who come in nearly every day to
+practice with Edna.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Does not your brother play with you sometimes?&#8221; asked Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Richard? Oh, no?&#8221; And Edna&#8217;s lip curled a little disdainfully. &#8220;He is
+far too busy to waste his time on me&#8212;he prefers playing cricket with
+the village lads at Melton. Bye the bye, mamma, I left Richard at the
+station; he said he had business with Malcolmson, and would not be home
+much before dinner.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed, I am sorry to hear it,&#8221; returned Mrs. Sefton coldly. &#8220;Of course
+it was no use my warning him against any dealings with Malcolmson;
+Richard will go his own way; but I confess that this infatuation for
+Malcolmson vexes me much;&#8221; and a slight frown crossed Mrs. Sefton&#8217;s
+white forehead.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Was the young man with two splendid dogs that I passed in the
+waiting-room your brother?&#8221; asked Bessie, in some surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, that was Richard,&#8221; returned Edna; and she added, a little
+maliciously, &#8220;I can see you are a little surprised. I suppose you took
+him for a young farmer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> or gamekeeper. Richard is terribly clownish in
+appearance.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie thought this speech was in very bad taste, but she replied
+quietly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I cannot say I noticed your brother, but one of the dogs attracted my
+attention, he had such a fine head; I should think Landseer would have
+enjoyed painting him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that must have been Gelert; every one admires him; I know Neville
+coveted him. Now we have finished tea, and I dare say you will be glad
+to get rid of the dust of your journey, so I will undertake to show you
+your room. Mamma was going to put you into the big spare room, but I
+insisted that you would prefer a smaller one. Was I right, Miss
+Lambert?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perfectly right, thank you,&#8221; returned Bessie, as she rose with
+alacrity.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sefton&#8217;s eyes followed her curiously as she crossed the room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A healthy, fresh-colored country girl,&#8221; she said to herself; &#8220;quite a
+little rustic; but she seems a nice, harmless little thing; though why
+Edna took such a fancy to her rather puzzles me. I thought she would
+take after her father, but I can see no likeness. What a handsome fellow
+he was&#8212;poor Herbert!&#8212;and so gentlemanly.&#8221; And here Mrs. Sefton sighed;
+for to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> her it was always a perilous thing to recall the past. No woman
+had ever been so foolish as she; she had cast away gold for dross.</p>
+
+<p>While her hostess was indulging in these heavy reflections, Bessie was
+uttering little staccato exclamations of delight at the sight of the
+room allotted her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a lovely view!&#8221; she had observed, running to the window, for not
+only was the pretty shady garden to be seen, but some meadows, and a
+glimpse of a fir wood in the distance; and it all looked so cool and
+still, and the only objects of moving life were some white lambs feeding
+by their mothers, and a pretty brown foal with its dam.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think you will like your room?&#8221; asked Edna demurely; but there
+was a gleam of fun in her eyes as she put the question, for she had a
+vivid remembrance of Bessie&#8217;s room at home; the strips of faded carpet,
+the little iron bedstead, and painted drawers; and yet it had been a
+haven of rest to her that night, and she had slept very sweetly on the
+little hard bed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is far too grand for me,&#8221; returned Bessie candidly. &#8220;I shall feel
+like a fine lady for the first time in my life.&#8221; And she looked round
+her with admiring scrutiny, noting every detail&#8212;the wax candles and
+hot-house flowers on the toilet-table, the handsome wardrobe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> and
+cheval-glass, the writing-table with its dainty appendages, and the
+cosy-looking couch; even the brass bedstead, with its blue cretonne
+hangings, and frilled pillow-cases, demanded some fresh comment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think it is a lovely room, and far too good for me,&#8221; finished Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All our rooms are very comfortable,&#8221; was the careless response; &#8220;but
+one is too used to this sort of thing to notice it. Now shall I send
+Brandon to help you? She is our maid, and understands hair-dressing
+perfectly. She will help you unpack and arrange your things.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, thank you!&#8221; returned Bessie, in such an alarmed voice that Miss
+Sefton laughed; and then she continued, in rather a shamefaced manner:
+&#8220;You see I am not like you, Miss Sefton. I have not been used to
+luxuries and being waited on; we are plain people, and wait on
+ourselves.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Just as you like,&#8221; was the indifferent answer. &#8220;Brandon is the comfort
+of my life, though she is such a cross old thing. Now, Bessie&#8212;I am
+going to call you Bessie, and I beg you to lay aside the stiff Miss
+Sefton&#8212;you must tell me if I can lend you anything, or help you in any
+way. And you are not to trouble about making yourself smart, for we have
+no one coming to dinner to-day, and I shall only put on an old dress. We
+are in the country now, and I don&#8217;t mean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> to waste my fine London gowns
+on Richard, who calls every material dimity, and never knows whether one
+is dressed in velvet or sackcloth.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie smiled, and then asked if she might use any of the flowers on her
+toilet-table.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear child, just look behind you,&#8221; was the amused answer; and Bessie
+saw a breast-knot of lovely crimson roses on the writing-table. &#8220;Those
+are for your use to-night, but if you will let me know every morning
+what color you want for the evening, I will tell Brandon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>As Bessie was unpacking, she heard a faint scratching at her door, and
+on opening it found, to her great surprise, Mac, the deerhound, sitting
+on his haunches, with a very pleading look in his beautiful brown eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You may come in if you like, old <a name="fellow" id="fellow"></a><ins title="original has fullstop">fellow,</ins>&#8221; she said, wondering at
+his sudden friendship for a stranger; and, sure enough, the hound walked
+in and stretched himself under the writing-table, with his nose between
+his paws, quietly observant of every movement.</p>
+
+<p>When Bessie had finished her unpacking, she proceeded to brush out her
+bright, brown hair, and arrange it in her usual simple fashion. Then she
+put on the dress of cream-colored nun&#8217;s veiling, which was cut square
+and trimmed with her mother&#8217;s lace; and when she had clasped the pearls
+round her neck, and had pinned on her roses, she felt she had never been
+so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> well dressed in her life; and, indeed, the girl&#8217;s freshness and
+sweet expression made her very pleasant to look upon.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was sitting at the window thinking of Hatty when Edna entered,
+looking like a young princess to her dazzled eyes. The old gown proved
+to be a delicate blue silk, and was trimmed in a costly fashion, and she
+wore at her throat a locket with a diamond star. As she came sweeping
+into the room, with her long train and fair coronet of hair, she looked
+so graceful and so handsome that Bessie uttered an admiring exclamation.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, don&#8217;t look at me!&#8221; observed Edna rather pettishly. &#8220;I have told
+Brandon I really must discard this gown; it is getting too bad even for
+quiet evenings.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think it lovely,&#8221; returned Bessie, much surprised at this remark. &#8220;I
+thought it was quite new.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; it is nearly a year old, quite a patriarch in gowns; and,
+besides, I am getting so tired of blue. Mamma likes me best in white,
+and I agree with her; but you look very nice, Bessie, more like a
+crimson-tipped Daisy than ever. You remind me so of a daisy&#8212;a humble
+little modest, bright-eyed thing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Miss Sefton,&#8221; returned Bessie, blushing at such an
+unexpected compliment. &#8220;I think I must tell Hatty that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span><a name="Hatty" id="Hatty"></a><ins title="original has no opening quotation mark">&#8220;Hatty!</ins> Oh, you mean the little pale-faced sister with the clever
+eyes. Now, what did I say to you? That I preferred Edna to Miss Sefton.
+Oh, there goes the second gong, and Richard has only just come in. Mamma
+will be so vexed at his unpunctuality. Why, I declare if Mac has not
+taken up his quarters under your table. I suppose he approves of Miss
+Daisy as much as I do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna chatted after this fashion as she tripped down the oak staircase,
+while Bessie followed her more slowly. They found Mrs. Sefton in a
+somewhat ruffled mood. She looked handsomer than ever in her gray silk
+dress; her hands were blazing with diamond rings, her dark hair was
+still unmixed with gray, and hardly needed the lace cap that covered it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Richard has only just come in, mamma; need we wait for him?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is our duty to wait for the master of the house, Edna, however much
+we are inconvenienced by the delay.&#8221; And Mrs. Sefton fanned herself with
+a dissatisfied expression. &#8220;Your brother never thinks of our comfort, as
+long as he is engrossed with his own occupations. I must apologize to
+you, Miss Lambert, for our unpunctuality. I am sure, after such a
+journey, you must need your dinner.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am not at all hungry, thank you,&#8221; replied Bessie, whose appetite was
+not stimulated by her hostess<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>&#8217; aggrieved remarks. She sat literally on
+thorns during the next five minutes, while Mrs. Sefton fanned herself,
+and Edna walked up and down the room, humming snatches of songs, and
+then breaking off into a sarcastic observation on the length of
+Richard&#8217;s toilet.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I shall expect great results,&#8221; she was just saying, as the door opened,
+and a tall, broad-shouldered young man advanced rather awkwardly into
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid I am late again, mother,&#8221; he began apologetically; but Mrs.
+Sefton apparently took no notice of this remark, except by a slight
+shrug of her shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We have been waiting half an hour,&#8221; broke in Edna, with a pout. &#8220;You
+get worse and worse, Richard. Now, will you take in my friend, Miss
+Lambert? and mamma and I will follow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie rose at once, as Mr. Sefton offered his arm, but beyond a stiff
+bow he took no further notice of her. His face wore a moody expression
+as they seated themselves at the table. His reception had evidently
+damped him.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie glanced at him. Richard Sefton was certainly not handsome; his
+features were rather heavily molded; he had a reddish mustache that hid
+his mouth, and closely cropped hair of the same color. His evening dress
+set rather awkwardly on him, and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> had looked far better in his tweed
+coat and knickerbockers. Bessie was obliged to confess that Edna had
+been right in her description; there was something clownish about his
+appearance, and yet he looked a gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have you nothing to tell us, Richard?&#8221; asked Mrs. Sefton sharply, when
+the silence had lasted long enough.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing that will interest you,&#8221; he replied, rather gloomily; and
+Bessie noticed that his voice was not unpleasant. &#8220;I have been with
+Malcolmson all the afternoon.&#8221; And he looked steadily at Mrs. Sefton as
+he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>A slight flush crossed her face, but she evidently did not trust herself
+to answer.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I know our opinions differ about him,&#8221; he continued, as though forcing
+himself to speak; <a name="but" id="but"></a><ins title="original has no opening quotation mark">&#8220;but</ins> for my part I think him a clear-headed,
+reliable fellow. He has done my business well, and has relieved me of a
+great deal of responsibility.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hope you will not have cause to repent your rashness, Richard,&#8221; was
+the severe answer; but Edna, who was watching her mother&#8217;s countenance
+with some anxiety, interfered in an airy fashion:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, pray don&#8217;t begin to talk business, Richard, or you will make
+mamma&#8217;s head ache. You know she can&#8217;t bear to hear Malcolmson&#8217;s name
+mentioned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> All this is not very amusing for Miss Lambert. Can&#8217;t you
+find something interesting to suit a young lady?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But if Edna hoped to pose as a peacemaker, she failed signally, for a
+sullen look came to her brother&#8217;s face, and, with the exception of a
+slight attention to his guest&#8217;s wants, and a few remarks about her
+journey and the weather, Richard made no further attempt to be
+agreeable.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br />
+<br />
+<small>RICHARD SEFTON.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">&#8220;Richard</span> is a perfect bear!&#8221; exclaimed Edna angrily, as she threw
+herself into one of the wicker seats on the lawn. It was a lovely
+evening; the sun was just setting, and she had invited Bessie to take a
+stroll round the garden.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The dews are very heavy,&#8221; remonstrated her friend. &#8220;I think we had
+better keep to the gravel paths.&#8221; And then Edna had got up from her
+seat, grumbling as she did so, and had again reiterated her opinion that
+Richard was a bear.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think something must have put him out,&#8221; returned Bessie, who was
+always prompt in defence of the absent. &#8220;He did not look quite happy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That was because mamma was so vexed about his unpunctuality, and about
+Malcolmson. Richard hates to vex her, and when she looks at him like
+that he always becomes gloomy and morose. I have known him silent for
+days, when they have fallen out about something. I am taking you behind
+the scenes, Bessie,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> but all our friends know that mamma and Richard do
+not agree. You see, mamma is very clever, and she likes managing, and
+Richard has a will of his own; he is very tenacious of his own opinions,
+and when he has got an idea into his head he can be as stubborn as a
+mule.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you think a man has a right to his own opinion, Edna?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna pursed up her lips.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A man like Neville, perhaps, who is clever and knows the world; but
+Richard is a perfect child in some things. He ought to be reasonable,
+and allow mamma to have her way. Now, she dislikes Malcolmson&#8212;she does
+not believe in him; and Richard, as you hear, swears by him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who is Mr. Malcolmson, if I may venture to ask?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, he is an ugly, scrubby little Scotchman whom Richard means to take
+as a sort of bailiff, or overseer, or something; I don&#8217;t understand
+what.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your brother farms himself, does he not?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, he has a large farm; and then there is the brewery, a few miles
+off, and he wants Malcolmson for that. Mamma is disgusted, because she
+wanted Richard to take a <em>prot&#233;g&#233;</em> of her own&#8212;such an interesting young
+fellow, and so poor, with a widowed mother and two or three young
+sisters; and my lord won&#8217;t look at him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>&#8220;Perhaps he has his reasons for declining him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, it is just his obstinacy; he will not allow mamma to interfere in
+his business. He thinks she ought to keep to her own department, and
+leave him to manage his own concerns; but mamma can&#8217;t see it; she has
+been used to rule, and she is always offended when he refuses to take
+her advice.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a pity!&#8221; observed Bessie. &#8220;I think people in one house ought to be
+of one mind.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear Daisy, your golden rule won&#8217;t hold at The Grange. No one thinks
+alike in this house; mamma and I dote on each other, but we do not
+always agree; she makes me cry my eyes out sometimes. And as for
+Neville, as I told you, we have not an idea in common. I think perfect
+agreement must be rather monotonous and deadening. I am sure if Neville
+were to say to me, &#8216;My dear Edna, you are always right, and I agree with
+you in everything,&#8217; I should be ready to box his ears. It is much more
+amusing to quarrel half a dozen times a day, and make it up again. Oh, I
+do dearly love to provoke Neville; he looks so deliciously bored and
+grave.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was at a loss how to answer this extraordinary statement, but
+Edna gave her no time to collect her ideas.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Quarrelling with Richard is poor fun,&#8221; she went on; &#8220;he hasn&#8217;t the wit
+to retaliate, but just sits glum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> as you saw him to-night. I mean to
+tell Master Richard, though, that his manners were worse than usual, for
+he actually did not open his lips to his guest, although she was a
+stranger.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed you are wrong,&#8221; returned Bessie eagerly. &#8220;You are doing your
+brother an injustice; he spoke to me several times, and made remarks
+about the weather and my journey. I was just describing Cliffe to him
+when your mother gave us the signal to rise.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a brilliant conversation!&#8221; observed Edna sarcastically. &#8220;Well, I
+will prove to you that Richard is in his sulks, for he won&#8217;t enter the
+drawing-room again to-night; and if he did,&#8221; she added, laughing, &#8220;mamma
+would not speak to him, so it is just as well for him to absent himself.
+Now let us go in, and I will sing to you. When people are not here mamma
+always reads, and I sing to her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna sung charmingly, and Bessie much enjoyed listening to her; and when
+she was tired Mrs. Sefton beckoned Bessie to her couch, and talked to
+her for a long time about her family.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All this interests me; I like to hear your simple descriptions, my
+child,&#8221; she said, when Edna interrupted them by reminding her mother of
+the lateness of the hour. &#8220;Now you must go to bed.&#8221; And she dismissed
+her with another kiss and a kindly good-night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As the two girls went out into the hall they found Richard Sefton
+hanging up his cap on the peg. He wore a light overcoat over his evening
+dress, and had evidently spent his evening out.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-night, Richard,&#8221; observed Edna, with a careless nod, as she passed
+him; but Bessie held out her hand with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-night, Mr. Sefton. What a beautiful evening it has been!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and so warm,&#8221; he returned cheerfully, as though the girl&#8217;s smile
+had loosened his tongue; &#8220;it is glorious haymaking weather. I expect we
+shall have a fine crop in the lower meadow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you haymaking?&#8221; exclaimed Bessie, with almost childish delight.
+&#8220;Oh, I hope your sister will take me into the hayfield.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will promise anything, if only you and Richard will not turn over the
+haycocks now,&#8221; retorted Edna, with sleepy impatience. &#8220;Do come, Bessie.&#8221;
+And Bessie followed her obediently.</p>
+
+<p>Richard Sefton looked after her as her white dress disappeared up the
+dark staircase.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She seems a different sort from most of Edna&#8217;s friends,&#8221; he muttered,
+as he lighted his pipe and retired to the nondescript apartment that was
+called his study. &#8220;There does not seem much nonsense about her. What do
+you think about it, Mac?&#8221; as the hound<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> laid his head on his knee. &#8220;I
+imagine, as a rule, women have a precious lot of it.&#8221; And he whistled a
+bar from the &#8220;Miller of the Dee.&#8221;</p>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="io">&#8220;I care for nobody, no, not I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nobody cares for me.&#8221;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a long evening it has been!&#8221; thought Bessie, as she leaned out of
+the window to enjoy the sweet June air, and to admire the lawn silvered
+by the moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It seems two days at least since I left Cliffe. Oh, I hope Hatty is
+asleep, and not fretting!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wonder if I shall be happy here,&#8221; she went on. &#8220;It is all very
+nice&#8212;the house and the country beautiful, and Edna as delightful as
+possible; but there is something wanting&#8212;family union. It is so sad to
+hear Edna talking about her brother. He is a perfect stranger to me, and
+yet I took his part at once. How could the poor fellow talk and enjoy
+himself while Mrs. Sefton was sitting opposite to him looking like an
+offended tragedy queen? He had not the heart to talk; besides, he knew
+that in engaging that man he was going against her wishes, and so he
+could not feel comfortable. Edna was wrong in calling him a bear. He was
+not at his ease, certainly; but he anticipated all my wants, and spoke
+to me very nicely. But there, I must not mix myself up in family
+disagreements. I shall have to be civil and kind to every one; but it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
+makes one thankful for one&#8217;s peaceful home, and the dear mother and
+father,&#8221; and the tears came into Bessie&#8217;s eyes as she thought of her
+shielded and happy life, and the love of her sisters and Tom.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;God bless them all, and make me worthy of them!&#8221; thought the girl, with
+a sudden rush of tenderness for the dear ones at home.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was an early riser. Dr. Lambert had always inculcated this useful
+and healthy habit in his children. He would inveigh bitterly against the
+self-indulgence of the young people of the present day, and against the
+modern misuse of time. &#8220;Look at the pallid, sickly complexions of some
+of the girls you see,&#8221; he would say. &#8220;Do they look fit to be the future
+mothers of Englishmen? Poor, feeble creatures, with no backbone to
+mention, leading unhealthy, frivolous existences. If my girls are not
+handsome, they shall at least be healthy; they shall learn self-control
+and self-guidance. Early hours will promote good appetites; plenty of
+exercise, fresh air and good digestion will sweeten their tempers and
+enliven their spirits; a clear conscience and a well-regulated mind will
+bring them happiness in whatever circumstances they are placed. I am not
+anxious for my girls to marry. I don&#8217;t mean to play minor providence in
+their lives, as some fathers do; but I would fit them for either
+position, for the dignity of marriage or for the unselfish duties of the
+single woman.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>Dr. Lambert loved to moralize to his womankind; he had a way of standing
+before the fire and haranguing his family&#8212;anything would serve as a
+text for his discourse. Some of his daughters certainly thrived on his
+homely prescriptions, but Hatty was the thorn in her father&#8217;s side, the
+object of his secret anxiety and most tender care&#8212;the sickly one of his
+domestic flock. Hatty would never do him credit, he would say sadly; no
+medical skill could put color into Hatty&#8217;s pale cheeks, nor cure the
+aches and pains and nervous fancies that harassed her youth. As Dr.
+Lambert watched the languid step, or dissatisfied voice, he would sigh,
+as though some thought oppressed him; but with all his gentleness&#8212;and
+he was very gentle with Hatty&#8212;he never yielded, nor suffered any one
+else to yield, to her wayward caprices.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear,&#8221; he would say, when Bessie pleaded for some little extra
+indulgence for Hatty, &#8220;you must not think me hard if I say distinctly
+&#8216;No&#8217; to your request. You may trust me; I know Hatty better than you do.
+Very little would make her a confirmed invalid. It is not in our power,
+not in the power of any man living,&#8221; continued the doctor, with emotion,
+&#8220;to give that poor child health; but we may help her a great deal by
+teaching her self-control. Half her misery proceeds from her own nervous
+fancies. If we can help her to overcome them, we shall do more for Hatty
+than if we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> petted and waited on her.&#8221; But Bessie had always found this
+wise prescription of the doctor&#8217;s a very difficult one.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie always called the hour before breakfast her &#8220;golden hour,&#8221; and by
+her father&#8217;s advice she devoted it to some useful reading or study. In a
+busy house like the Lamberts&#8217;, where every one put his or her shoulder
+to the wheel, it was not easy to secure opportunity for quiet reading or
+self-improvement. There was always work to be done; long walks to be
+taken; the constant interruption of the two school-girls; Ella&#8217;s
+practicing to overlook; Katie&#8217;s French verbs to hear; besides household
+tasks of all kinds. In the evenings the girls played and sung to please
+their father, who delighted in music; sometimes, but not often, their
+mother read aloud to them while they worked. It was against the family
+rules for one to retire into a corner with a book. In such a case the
+unfortunate student was hunted out, teased, pursued with questions,
+pelted with home witticisms, until she was glad to close her book and
+take up her needlework, for the Lamberts were brisk talkers, and their
+tongues were never silent until they were asleep, and then they talked
+in their dreams.</p>
+
+<p>When Bessie rose early, as usual, the morning after her arrival at The
+Grange, she sat down by the open window, and wrote a long letter to her
+mother and a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> little note to Hatty. It was an exquisite morning; the
+thrushes and blackbirds, the merle and the mavis of the old English
+poets, were singing as though their little throats would burst with the
+melody, and a pair of finches in the acacia were doing their best to
+swell the concert; the garden looked so sunny and quiet, and such a
+sweet breath of newly made hay came in at the open window that Bessie at
+last laid down her pen. The household was stirring, but the family would
+not be down for half an hour, so the maid had informed her when she
+brought Bessie the morning cup of tea. Bessie had looked rather
+longingly at the pretty teapot, but her father had been so strong in his
+denunciations against slow poison, as he called it, imbibed on waking,
+that she would not yield to the temptation of tasting it, and begged for
+a glass of milk instead. This the maid promised to bring every morning,
+and as Bessie ate the bread and butter and sipped the sweet country
+milk, yellow with cream, she thought how much good it would do Hatty.
+Then she put on her hat and went softly downstairs, and finding a side
+door open, went out into the garden.</p>
+
+<p>She thought she and the thrushes and blackbirds had it to themselves,
+but she was mistaken, for in turning into a shrubbery walk, skirting the
+meadow, she was surprised to see Richard Sefton sitting on a low bench,
+with Mac&#8217;s head between his knees, evidently in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> brown study. Bessie
+was sorry to disturb him, but it was too late to draw back, for Mac had
+already seen her, and had roused his master by his uneasy efforts to get
+free, and Mr. Sefton rose, with the awkward abruptness that seemed
+natural to him, and lifted his cap.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good morning, Miss Lambert. You are an early riser. My mother and Edna
+are hardly awake yet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I am always up long before this,&#8221; returned Bessie, smiling at his
+evident astonishment, as she stooped to caress Mac, who was fawning on
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mac seems to know you,&#8221; he observed, noticing the dog&#8217;s friendly
+greeting.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is very strange, but he seems to have taken a fancy to me,&#8221; replied
+Bessie, and she narrated to Mac&#8217;s master how the hound had pleaded for
+admission to her room, and had lain under her table watching her unpack.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is very odd,&#8221; observed Richard. &#8220;Mac has never bestowed a similar
+mark of attention on any one but a certain homely old lady that my
+mother had here for a time, as a sort of charity; she had been a
+governess, and was very poor. Well, Mac was devoted to the old lady, and
+she certainly was an estimable sort of woman, but he will have nothing
+to say to any of Edna&#8217;s fine friends, and generally keeps out of the way
+when they come.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;An animal&#8217;s likes and dislikes are very singular,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>&#8221; remarked Bessie,
+looking thoughtfully into Mac&#8217;s brown eyes. &#8220;I believe Mac knows that I
+am a lover of dogs.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you indeed, Miss Lambert? Would you like to see mine?&#8221; returned
+Richard quickly; and his face lighted up as he spoke. He looked younger
+and better than he did the previous night. His powerful, muscular
+figure, more conspicuous for strength than grace, showed to advantage in
+his tweed shooting-coat and knickerbockers, his ordinary morning
+costume. The look of sullen discomfort had gone, and his face looked
+less heavy. Bessie thought he hardly seemed his
+age&#8212;nine-and-twenty&#8212;and, in spite of his natural awkwardness, he had a
+boyish frankness of manner that pleased her.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was a shrewd little person in her way, and she already surmised
+that Richard Sefton was not at ease in his stepmother&#8217;s presence. She
+found out afterward that this was the case; that in spite of his
+strength and manhood, he was morbidly sensitive of her opinion, and was
+never so conscious of his defects as when he was presiding at his own
+table, or playing the part of host in her drawing-room, under her
+critical eye. And yet Richard Sefton loved his stepmother; he had an
+affectionate nature, but in his heart he knew he had no cause to be
+grateful to her. She had made him, the lonely, motherless boy, the
+scapegoat of his father&#8217;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> deceit and wrongdoing. He had been allowed to
+live at The Grange on sufferance, barely tolerated by the proud girl who
+had been ignorant of his existence. If he had been an engaging child,
+with winning ways, she would soon have become interested in him, but
+even then Richard had been plain and awkward, with a shy, reserved
+nature, and a hidden strength of affection that no one, not even his
+father, guessed. Mrs. Sefton had first disliked, and then neglected him,
+until her husband died, and the power had come into Richard&#8217;s hands.
+Since then she had altered her behavior; her interests lay in
+conciliating her stepson. She began by recognizing him outwardly as
+master, and secretly trying to dominate and guide him. But she soon
+found her mistake. Richard was accessible to kindness, and Mrs. Sefton
+could have easily ruled him by love, but he was firm against a cold,
+aggressive policy. Secretly he shrunk from his stepmother&#8217;s sarcastic
+speeches and severe looks; his heart was wounded by persistent coldness
+and misunderstanding, but he had sufficient manliness to prove himself
+master, and Mrs. Sefton could not forgive this independence. Richard
+took her hard speeches silently, but he brooded over them in a morbid
+manner that resembled sullenness. Yet he would have forgiven them
+generously in return for one kind look or word. His stepmother had
+fascinated and subjugated him in his boyhood, and even in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> manhood
+it gave him a pang to differ from her; but the truth that was in him,
+the real inward manhood, strengthened him for the daily conflicts of
+wills.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Richard Sefton! But after all he was less to be pitied than the
+woman who found it so difficult to forgive a past wrong, and who could
+wreak her displeasure on the innocent.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span><a name="X" id="X"></a>CHAPTER X.<br />
+<br />
+<small>BESSIE IS INTRODUCED TO BILL SYKES.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">&#8220;Would</span> you care to see my dogs, Miss Lambert?&#8221; asked Richard, and Bessie
+only hesitated for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very much. That is, if it will not trouble you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not in the least; they are only just outside in the stable yard. Leo,
+our big mastiff, who gained the prize last year, is over at the farm. He
+is a splendid fellow, but a trifle fierce to strangers. He pulled a man
+down once, a tramp who was lurking about the place. Leo had got loose
+somehow, and he was at his throat in a moment. The poor fellow has the
+scar now; but I made it up to him, poor wretch.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should not care to go near Leo&#8217;s kennel,&#8221; returned Bessie, with a
+shudder.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it would be all right if I were with you. I should just put my hand
+on your arm and say, &#8216;A friend, Leo,&#8217; and he would be as gentle as Mac,
+here. Leo is my faithful servant and guardian at the farm. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> always
+take him out for a walk on Sunday afternoons. Leo knows Sunday as well
+as I do. Now, we must be quick, or the gong will sound. There is no need
+to go through the house; this door leads to the kitchen garden, and we
+can reach the stables that way.&#8221; And talking in this easy, friendly
+fashion, Richard quickly conducted Bessie down the trim gravel walks,
+under the apple and plum trees, and then unlocking a green door in the
+wall, Bessie found herself in the stable yard, where the groom was
+rubbing down a fine brown mare. The mare neighed as soon as she heard
+her master&#8217;s voice, and Richard went up to her and petted her glossy
+sides.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is brown Bess,&#8221; he observed. &#8220;She is a skittish young thing, and
+plays her pranks with every one but me; but you and I understand each
+other, eh, old lady?&#8221; And the mare rubbed her nose against him in a
+confiding manner. Bessie looked on with an earnest air of interest.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you ride?&#8221; asked Richard presently.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have never been on horseback in my life; but <a name="I_can" id="I_can"></a><ins title="original has duplicate I">I can</ins> imagine what a
+pleasure riding must be.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a pity!&#8221; he returned briefly. &#8220;There is nothing like it.&#8221; And so
+saying, he unlatched a gate and ushered his guest into a small paved
+yard, and then, opening a door, he uttered a prolonged whistle,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> and
+yelps, and a number of dogs, small and large, rushed out upon him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hi, there, Gelert! down, Juno; down, down, good dogs all.&#8221; And Richard
+threatened them with his dogwhip.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is this Gelert?&#8221; asked Bessie, pointing to a fine black retriever.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; and that is Brand,&#8221; patting the head of a handsome pointer. &#8220;That
+brown setter is Juno; she is the mother of those three puppies&#8212;fine
+little fellows, aren&#8217;t they? Look at this curly haired one; two of them
+are promised to friends; they are a capital breed. Do you care for
+terriers, Miss Lambert? because Spot is considered a perfect beauty.
+Look at his coat; it is like satin.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And that knowing little fellow, what is his name?&#8221; and Bessie pointed
+to a very small black and tan terrier, who sat up and begged at once.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is Tim; he ought by rights to be a house-dog, but he has taken
+a fancy to Spot, and insists on sharing his straw bed at night; they
+both have the run of the house by day&#8212;at least, as far as the hall and
+smoking-room are concerned. My mother hates dogs, and will not tolerate
+one in the drawing-room.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Surely, that is not one of your dogs,&#8221; exclaimed Bessie, looking with
+some disfavor on an ugly white mongrel, with a black patch over one eye;
+her attention<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> was attracted by the creature&#8217;s ugliness. Evidently he
+knew he was no beauty, for, after uttering a short yelp or two in the
+attempt to join in the chorus of sonorous barks, he had crept humbly
+behind Richard, and sat on his haunches, looking up at him with a
+pathetically meek expression.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you mean Bill Sykes; yes, he is a pensioner of mine. Come along,
+Bill, and say good morning to your master.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible to describe the change that came over the dog as
+Richard spoke to him in this kindly fashion; his whole body quivered
+with pleasure as he sprung up and licked Richard&#8217;s hands.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What do you think, Miss Lambert? I found Bill one day tearing through
+Melton with a tin kettle tied to his tail, hunted by a pack of rascally
+school-boys; one of the little wretches had thrown a stone at him, and
+poor Bill was bleeding. I managed to stop him, somehow, and to free the
+poor beast from his implement of torture, and left him licking his wound
+by the roadside, while I caught two of the boys and thrashed them
+soundly. I reserved thrashing the others until a convenient season, but
+they all caught it. I read them a pretty lesson on cruelty to animals.
+Bill followed me home, and I have never parted with him since. The other
+dogs disdained his company at first, but now they tolerate him, and, on
+the whole, I think he leads<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> a pleasant life. He knows he is of humble
+extraction, and so he keeps in the background, but he is a clever dog;
+he can walk across the yard on his hind legs&#8212;the gardener&#8217;s boy taught
+him the trick. Now, then, Bill, walk like a gentleman.&#8221; And Bill
+obediently rose on his hind legs and stalked across the yard with an air
+of dignity, followed by a fat, rollicking puppy, barking with all his
+might.</p>
+
+<p>Bill had just received his meed of praise when the gong sounded, and
+they had to hurry in to breakfast. They found Edna in a bewitching white
+morning dress.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hope I am not late,&#8221; observed Bessie, apologetically. &#8220;Mr. Sefton
+took me to see the dogs. I did so enjoy looking at them; they are such
+beautiful creatures.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, especially Bill Sykes,&#8221; returned Edna sarcastically. &#8220;Well, there
+is no accounting for tastes,&#8221; with a critical look at Bessie&#8217;s neat blue
+cotton. &#8220;I never venture in the yard myself, unless I have an old ulster
+on. I could not put on my dress again if all those scratchy paws had
+been over it. Richard does not train them properly; they all spring up
+and nearly knock me down in their clumsy gambols.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They are like their master, eh, Edna?&#8221; returned Richard good-humoredly.
+&#8220;Mother, shall I give you some ham? What time do you mean to bring Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
+Lambert to the lower meadow, Edna? We shall be carrying this evening.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you need not expect us at all,&#8221; returned Edna, to Bessie&#8217;s
+disappointment. &#8220;I quite forgot the Atherton&#8217;s are coming this
+afternoon, to practice for to-morrow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I thought Miss Lambert wanted to see us make hay,&#8221; observed Richard,
+looking at Bessie as he spoke; but she replied hastily:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not if your sister has other plans, Mr. Sefton, thank you all the same;
+I would rather do as she wishes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and you are fond of lawn tennis, are you not? We have a garden
+party to-morrow, and you ought to practice, you see. I want you to know
+the Athertons; they are such nice girls, Florence especially; plenty of
+go in them, and no nonsense.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, Florence is a sweet girl,&#8221; assented her mother. &#8220;Mrs. Atherton is
+a sad invalid, and they are such devoted daughters. Edna, it is your day
+for writing to Neville, is it not? I want to send a message to Mrs.
+Sinclair; don&#8217;t you think it would be a pretty attention if you were to
+write to her as well? She seems very poorly again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am not inclined to pay pretty attentions to any one this morning,&#8221;
+returned Edna, with a little laugh. &#8220;Bessie, can you amuse yourself
+while I do my duty to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> my <em>fianc&#233;</em>? There are plenty of books in the
+morning-room, and a deliciously shady seat under that big tree.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that will be delightful,&#8221; replied Bessie, to whom a book was a
+powerful attraction. She was some time making her selection from the
+well-filled bookcase, but at last fixed on some poems by Jean Ingelow,
+and &#8220;The Village on the Cliff,&#8221; by Miss Thackeray. Bessie had read few
+novels in her life; Dr. Lambert disliked circulating libraries for young
+people, and the only novels in the house were Sir Walter Scott&#8217;s and
+Miss Austin&#8217;s, while the girls&#8217; private book shelves boasted most of
+Miss Yonge&#8217;s, and two or three of Miss Mulock&#8217;s works. Bessie had read
+&#8220;Elizabeth,&#8221; by Miss Thackeray, at her Aunt Charlotte&#8217;s house, and the
+charming style, the pure diction, the picturesque descriptions, and the
+beauty and pathos of the story made her long to read another by the same
+author. As Bessie retraced her steps through the hall Mac raised himself
+up slowly, and followed her out, and in another moment Spot and Tim flew
+through a side door and joined her.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie never passed a pleasanter morning; her tale enthralled her, but
+she laid down her book occasionally to notice her dumb companions. A
+white Persian kitten had joined the group; she was evidently accustomed
+to the dogs, for she let Tim roll her over in his rough play, and only
+boxed his ears in return, now and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> then. When he got too excited, she
+scrambled up a may-tree, and sat licking herself in placid triumph,
+while the terriers barked below. Bessie was almost sorry when the quiet
+was invaded by Edna. Edna, who never opened a book, by her own
+confession, unless it were an exciting novel, looked a little
+disdainfully at the book Bessie had chosen.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that old thing!&#8221; she said contemptuously; &#8220;that is not much of a
+story; it is about a Breton peasant, is it not? Reine, I think she was
+called. Oh, it was amusing enough, but I prefer something more
+thrilling.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think it lovely,&#8221; returned Bessie. &#8220;It is all so sweet and sunshiny;
+one can smell the flowers in that studio, and the two Catherines, one so
+happy and charming, and the other so pathetic. All the people are so
+nice and good, they seem alive somehow. In other books there are wicked
+people, and that troubles me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You would not like the sort of books I read;&#8221; returned Edna, shrugging
+her shoulders. &#8220;There was a murder in the last; I could hardly sleep
+after it&#8212;some one thrown out of a train. Oh, it was deliciously
+horrible! I have not sent it back to Mudie; you can read it if you
+like.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, thank you,&#8221; returned Bessie quietly; &#8220;it would not suit me at all.
+Father is very particular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> about what we read, and mother, too; he will
+not let us touch what he calls &#8216;the sensational literature of the
+day&#8217;&#8212;oh, you may laugh,&#8221; as Edna looked amused; &#8220;but I think father is
+right. He says it makes him quite unhappy to see books of this
+description in the hands of mere children. He is a doctor, you know, and
+he declares that a great deal of harm is done by overstimulating the
+imagination by highly wrought fiction. &#8216;A meal of horrors can nourish no
+one,&#8217; he would say.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna chose to dispute this point, and a long and lively argument ensued
+between the girls until the luncheon bell silenced them.</p>
+
+<p>Richard did not appear at this meal; he was taking his bread and cheese
+under the hedge with the haymakers, Edna explained, or in other words,
+he had desired his luncheon to be sent to him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He does not favor us much with his company, as you will soon see for
+yourself, Miss Lambert. My stepson is not a society man,&#8221; observed Mrs.
+Sefton.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So much the better,&#8221; was on Bessie&#8217;s lips, but she prudently refrained
+from speaking the words. She was beginning to wonder, however, if Mrs.
+Sefton or Edna could mention his name without adding something
+disparaging. Edna especially was forever indulging in some light sarcasm
+at her brother&#8217;s expense.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>They sat in the cool drawing-room a little while after luncheon, until
+the Athertons arrived with their rackets; and then they all went down to
+the tennis lawn.</p>
+
+<p>The Atherton&#8217;s were nice-looking girls, and Bessie was rather taken with
+them, but she was somewhat surprised when they opened their lips. She
+was walking across the grass with Florence, the tallest and prettiest of
+the sisters, and, indeed, she was rather a sweet-looking girl.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is it not a lovely day?&#8221; observed Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Awfully jolly,&#8221; replied Miss Florence, in a sharp, clipping voice; and
+the next minute Bessie heard her call one of her sisters a duffer for
+missing the ball.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What would mother say?&#8221; thought Bessie. She was not much used to the
+typical girl of the period; after all, she was an old-fashioned little
+person.</p>
+
+<p>The Athertons were really nice girls, although they talked slang like
+their brothers, and conformed to all the foolish fashions of the day,
+disguising their honest, womanly hearts under blunt, flippant manners.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a pity,&#8221; said Bessie to herself, when she came to know them
+better. They were good-natured, clever girls, very fond of each other,
+and devoted to their mother and brothers. Reggie&#8217;s examination&#8212;exam.,
+Florence called it&#8212;for Sandhurst; Harold&#8217;s new coach, and Bertie&#8217;s
+score at cricket, were the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> theme of their conversation. &#8220;I am afraid
+Harold won&#8217;t pass,&#8221; observed Sabina sadly. &#8220;His last coach was such a
+muff, but the man <a name="he" id="he"></a><ins title="original has be">he</ins> has got now seems a good old sort. Harold can
+get on with him comfortably.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, what do you think of the girls?&#8221; asked Edna, when she and Bessie
+were left alone at the close of the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think they are very nice, Florence especially, but it is such a pity
+that they talk slang; it seems to spoil them, somehow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I agree with you that it is bad style, but, you see, they have learned
+it from their brothers.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bad style, that was all. Bessie&#8217;s gentle-looking mouth closed firmly
+with the expression it always wore when politeness forbade her to air
+her true opinions, but in her own heart she was saying:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bad style. That is how worldly minded people talk. That is how they
+palliate these sins against good taste and propriety. I like these
+girls; they are genuine, somehow; but I suppose our bringing up has made
+us old-fashioned, for I seemed to shrink inwardly every time they opened
+their lips. Surely it must be wrong to lose all feminine refinement in
+one&#8217;s language. There were no young men here, happily, to hear them; but
+if there had been, they would have expressed themselves in the same
+manner. That is what I cannot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> understand, now girls can lay aside their
+dignity and borrow masculine fashions. What a little lady Christine
+would have seemed beside them! Chrissy has such pretty manners.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The dinner hour passed more pleasantly than on the previous evening.
+Richard talked more, and seemed tolerably at his ease. He followed them
+into the drawing-room afterward, and asked his sister to sing, but, to
+Bessie&#8217;s vexation, Edna declined under the pretext of fatigue, and could
+not be induced to open the piano. Bessie felt provoked by her
+wilfulness, and she was so sorry to see the cloud on Richard&#8217;s face, for
+he was passionately fond of music, as he had informed Bessie at
+dinner-time, that she ventured to remonstrate with Edna.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do sing a little, just to please your brother; he looks so
+disappointed, and you know you are not a bit tired.&#8221; But Edna shook her
+head, and her pretty face looked a little hard.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I do not wish to please him; it is just because he has asked me that I
+will not sing a note this evening. I intend to punish Richard for his
+rudeness to me. I begged him to stay home for our garden party
+to-morrow; but no, he will not give up his stupid cricket. He says he is
+captain, and must be with his boys; but that is all nonsense; he does it
+to spite me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, very well,&#8221; returned Bessie good-humoredly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> for she would not
+quarrel with Edna for her perversity. &#8220;If you mean to be so obdurate, I
+will sing myself.&#8221; And Bessie actually walked across the room and
+addressed Richard, who was moodily turning over his sister&#8217;s music.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna does not feel inclined to sing to-night, but if you can put up
+with my deficiencies, I will try what I can do. My music is rather
+old-fashioned, but I know one or two pretty ballads, if you care to hear
+them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thanks; I should like it very much,&#8221; was all Richard said, as he opened
+the piano; but his face cleared like magic. It was not the song he
+wanted, but that some one should care to please him. All his life long
+this had been his longing; and the cold indifference with which his
+expressed wishes had always been met by his mother and Edna had chilled
+his affectionate nature. Bessie had a pretty voice, though it showed
+want of training, but she could sing a simple ballad with much sweetness
+and feeling, and Richard, who had a fine ear for music, avowed himself
+much pleased.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You ought to have some good lessons,&#8221; he said frankly. &#8220;Your voice has
+great capabilities, but it has not been properly trained. I hope you do
+not think my criticism rude.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed; I am too much aware of my own faults. I have only had a few
+lessons. Miss James<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> was not much of a teacher, but I cannot help
+singing somehow. Now, have I tired you, or do you want another song?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I want more than one,&#8221; returned Richard, growing bold. Bessie&#8217;s
+readiness to please, her good-humored reception of his criticism,
+charmed him. She was so amiable, so willing to be friendly; she was so
+different from the other girls who came to The Grange. Richard had no
+patience with them; their airs and graces, their evident desire for
+masculine admiration disgusted and repelled him. They seemed always
+seeking for him to pay them little compliments and attentions, and in
+his heart he despised them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, my dear,&#8221; observed Mrs. Sefton graciously, when Bessie had
+finished. &#8220;She sings very nicely, does she not, Edna?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Charmingly,&#8221; replied Edna; but her smile was hardly as pleased as
+usual, and she bade Bessie a somewhat cold good-night when they parted
+an hour later.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.<br />
+<br />
+<small>EDNA HAS A GRIEVANCE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Bessie</span> did not concern herself much about her friend&#8217;s coldness. She had
+tried to atone to Richard for his sister&#8217;s unkindness, and she had
+succeeded in giving one person pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I dare say her conscience tells her that she has been naughty, and that
+makes her cross with me,&#8221; thought Bessie, who was too healthy minded to
+harbor unnecessary scruples.</p>
+
+<p>Hatty would have made herself wretched under the circumstances; would
+have accused herself of boldness, and love of display, and a want of
+consideration for Edna; for Hatty, who was a self-tormentor by nature,
+could spin a whole web of worries out of a single thread; but Bessie
+never troubled herself with morbid after-thoughts. &#8220;Edna will be all
+right with me to-morrow,&#8221; she said to herself; and she was right in her
+prognostication.</p>
+
+<p>Edna came downstairs the next morning radiant with good humor, and was
+even civil to Richard. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> was a brilliant day; her friends had all
+accepted her invitation, and she was looking forward to a most enjoyable
+afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible for Bessie to resist the influence of her friend&#8217;s
+gayety and flow of spirits. Edna&#8217;s example was infectious, and Bessie
+was soon laughing heartily at her nonsensical speeches. There was no
+quiet for reading that morning. She had to practice tennis with Edna,
+and help her arrange the flowers; and finally she was carried off to be
+made smart.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wish you had a white dress, too,&#8221; observed Edna regretfully; for in
+her heart she thought Bessie&#8217;s favorite gray gown very dowdy and
+Quakerish. &#8220;But we must try to enliven you with a few flowers. You are
+going to wear a gray hat. Wait a moment.&#8221; And Edna darted out of the
+room, and returned a moment afterward with a dainty cream lace fichu.
+&#8220;Look, this lace is lovely! Mamma gave it to me, but I never wear it
+now, and it will just suit you. Now let me fasten in a few of those
+creamy roses. Well, you do look nice after all, Daisy dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but not half so nice as you,&#8221; replied Bessie, looking with honest
+admiration at the pretty young creature. Edna&#8217;s soft white dress just
+suited her fair hair and delicate complexion, and she looked so slim and
+graceful, as she stood before the glass fastening a rosebud at her
+throat, that Bessie said, involuntarily,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> &#8220;How nice it must be to be so
+pretty!&#8221; but there was no trace of envy in her tone.</p>
+
+<p>Edna blushed a little over the compliment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do I look pretty? Thank you, Bessie. Isn&#8217;t it a pity Neville cannot see
+me?&#8221; and she laughed mischievously over her vain speech. &#8220;Now, come
+along, there&#8217;s a dear, or the people will arrive before we are ready for
+them. There, I declare I hear Florence&#8217;s voice!&#8221; And the two girls ran
+down and joined Mrs. Sefton in the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>Well, it was a very pleasant garden party, and Bessie thoroughly enjoyed
+herself, though it was the grandest affair she had ever seen&#8212;so many
+people driving up in their carriages, and such smart footmen lingering
+in the hall, and a bevy of officers who were quartered in the
+neighborhood. But Bessie was not left out in the cold. Florence Atherton
+took her under her wing, and introduced some nice people to her. She
+even took part in one game when there was a vacancy, and her partner, a
+young lieutenant, was very good-natured, and only laughed when she
+missed the ball.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We have won, after all, you see,&#8221; he observed, when the match was over.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, thanks to you,&#8221; replied Bessie honestly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not at all. You played very well. Now shall we go and get an ice? I
+wonder what&#8217;s become of Sefton? I don&#8217;t see him anywhere.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>&#8220;Oh, he is playing cricket at Melton. He is captain of the village club,
+I believe. I don&#8217;t think he cares for tennis.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose not,&#8221; was the dry rejoinder; but the young man slightly
+elevated his eyebrows in a meaning manner. Bessie heard other remarks on
+Richard&#8217;s absence before the end of the afternoon. A young lady to whom
+she had been recently introduced addressed the same question to her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Sefton is not putting in an appearance this afternoon, Miss
+Lambert.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I believe not; he is otherwise engaged.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is very odd,&#8221; replied Miss Green significantly; &#8220;but Mr. Sefton
+always is engaged when his sister gives one of her parties. I am told he
+hates society, and that sort of thing. Isn&#8217;t it a pity that he should be
+so different from Edna? She is a darling, and so charming, but her
+brother&#8212;&#8221; and here Miss Green shrugged her shoulders, and her keen
+black eyes seemed to demand Bessie&#8217;s opinion; but Bessie made no
+rejoinder. She was not much prepossessed with Miss Green, and left her
+as soon as politeness allowed her, to sit with an old lady who was very
+chatty and amusing, and who called her &#8220;my dear&#8221; at every word.</p>
+
+<p>It was no use trying to speak to Edna; she was always surrounded by a
+group of young people. Once or twice the thought crossed Bessie&#8217;s mind,
+how Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> Sinclair would like to see her laughing and talking so long
+with that handsome Captain Grant. She was not exactly flirting&#8212;Bessie
+would not do her that injustice&#8212;but she allowed him to pay her a great
+deal of attention. It struck her that Mrs.Sefton was uneasy, for she
+called her to her side once.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear Miss Lambert, I cannot attract Edna&#8217;s attention, and I want to
+speak to her particularly; she is somewhere in the shrubberies with that
+tall man with the dark mustache&#8212;Captain Grant. I spoke to her as she
+passed just now, but neither of them heard me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Shall I go and fetch her, Mrs. Sefton?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I shall be very glad if you will do so, my dear.&#8221; And Bessie at once
+started in pursuit. She overtook them by the summer-house. Edna looked
+rather bored as she received her mother&#8217;s message, though she at once
+obeyed it; but Captain Grant kept his place at her side.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs.Sefton received him rather coldly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna,&#8221; she said, addressing her daughter, &#8220;I want to speak to you about
+the Mackenzie&#8217;s; they are sitting quite alone, and no one is talking to
+them; and that tall brother of their&#8217;s has not played a single game.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is his own fault. I offered him Marian Atherton for a partner ages
+ago, but he plays badly; as for the girls, they keep aloof from
+everybody. I introduced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> Mr. Sayers and Major Sparkes to them, but they
+have evidently frightened them away. Mamma, are we engaged for Thursday?
+because Captain Grant wants us to go and see the officers play polo.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is the day I am going up to town, Edna.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you can put it off,&#8221; she interposed eagerly. &#8220;It will be such fun.
+Mrs. Grant is to give us tea, and it will be such a treat for Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My mother is counting upon the pleasure of seeing you all, Mrs. Sefton.
+She has been unable to call, but she is hoping to make your acquaintance
+in this way.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She is very kind, Captain Grant,&#8221; returned Mrs. Sefton stiffly; &#8220;but
+unfortunately, as my daughter knows, I have a very important engagement
+for that day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am extremely sorry to hear it; still, if the young ladies care to
+drive over, my mother will chaperone them,&#8221; persisted Captain Grant; &#8220;or
+perhaps their brother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, of course! I forgot Richard,&#8221; exclaimed Edna, disregarding her
+mother&#8217;s evident objections.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sefton looked annoyed, but she said civilly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will see what Richard thinks; but you must not take anything for
+granted, Edna, until I have spoken to him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I will tease him into taking us,&#8221; returned Edna gayly. &#8220;I do love
+polo, and I am sure Bessie will be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> delighted. Now we must start another
+game, Captain Grant.&#8221; And before her mother could interpose Edna had
+crossed the lawn with him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Shall you be very disappointed if you do not see polo, Miss Lambert?&#8221;
+asked Mrs. Sefton presently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed. But I am afraid Edna will be; she seems to have set her
+heart on going.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Richard will not take her,&#8221; returned Mrs. Sefton; &#8220;he has a strong
+objection to Captain Grant; and I must own I think he is right. He is
+very handsome, but he has not a straightforward look. I have no wish to
+see him intimate here. He is forward and pushing, and does not take a
+rebuff. But Edna does not agree with me,&#8221; with a quick, impatient sigh.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Grant&#8217;s unfortunate invitation entirely marred the harmony of
+the evening. Directly the guests had left, the family sat down to a cold
+collation, instead of a regular dinner. Richard had only just come in
+and taken his place, declaring that he was as hungry as a hunter, when
+Edna informed him of their plans for Thursday.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mamma has to go up to town, so she cannot possibly go with us, and the
+carriage will have to fetch her from the station, so you must drive us
+over to Staplehurst in your dog-cart, Ritchie. I dare say Bessie will
+think that fun.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Richard glanced uneasily at his stepmother before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> he answered, as
+though he wished for her opinion, and she gave him a significant look.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am very sorry, Edna, but I am afraid it is impossible. I have to go
+over to Fordham on business, and I cannot possibly be back until six.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;On some stupid farming business, I suppose,&#8221; returned Edna, and it was
+evident her temper could ill brook the contradiction. Her color rose,
+and there was an ominous sparkle in her eye; but Richard answered
+composedly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; I have to meet Medway and Stephenson. I am sorry to disappoint you
+and Miss Lambert but Thursday is never a free day with me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, indeed, nor any other day of the week when I want you to do
+anything,&#8221; returned Edna, with rising excitement. &#8220;Now don&#8217;t make any
+more excuses, Richard. Do you think I am a child to believe in your
+Medways and Stephensons? I saw you look at mamma before you answered,
+and you think she does not wish me to go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My darling, why need you excite yourself so?&#8221; exclaimed Mrs. Sefton.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is you that excite me, mamma, you and Richard. You have got some
+foolish notion in your heads about Captain Grant, just because the poor
+man is civil to me. You treat me, both of you, as though I were a
+baby&#8212;as though I could not be trusted to take care of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> myself. It is
+very unjust,&#8221; continued Edna, &#8220;and I will not bear it from Richard.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I confess I don&#8217;t see the gist of your remarks,&#8221; returned her brother,
+who was now growing angry in his turn; &#8220;and I don&#8217;t think all this can
+be very amusing to Miss Lambert. If my mother has an objection to your
+keeping up an acquaintance with Captain Grant, it is your duty to give
+the thing up. In my opinion she is right; he is not the sort of friend
+for you, Edna, and his mother is disliked by all the officers&#8217; wives. I
+should think Sinclair would have a right to object to your frequent
+visits to Staplehurst.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But Edna was in no mood to listen to reason.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Neville knows better than to state his objections to me,&#8221; she returned
+haughtily; &#8220;and it is quite unnecessary to drag his name into the
+present conversation. I will only trouble you to answer me one question:
+Do you absolutely refuse to do me this favor, to drive Miss Lambert and
+me over to Staplehurst on Thursday?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I must refuse,&#8221; returned Richard firmly. &#8220;It is quite true that my
+engagement can be put off, but it is so evident that my mother objects
+to the whole thing, that I will not be a party to your disobeying her
+wishes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna rose from the table and made him a profound courtesy. &#8220;Thank you
+for your moral lecture, Richard;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> but it is quite thrown away. I am not
+going to be controlled like a child. If you will not take us, Bessie and
+I will go alone. I quite mean it, mamma.&#8221; And Edna marched angrily out
+of the room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear,&#8221; observed Mrs. Sefton fretfully; &#8220;I have not seen her so put
+out for months; it must have been your manner, Richard. You were so hard
+on the poor child. Now she will go and make herself ill with crying.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did I misunderstand you?&#8221; asked Richard, astonished at this. &#8220;Did you
+wish me to take them, after all?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course not; what an absurd question! I would not have Edna go for
+worlds. Neville only said the other day how much he disliked the Grants,
+and how he hoped Edna kept them at a distance. I think he has heard
+something to Captain Grant&#8217;s disadvantage; but you know how wilful she
+is; you might have carried your point with a little tact and <em>finesse</em>,
+but you are always so clumsy with Edna.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You did not help me much,&#8221; returned Richard rather bitterly. &#8220;You left
+me to bear the brunt of Edna&#8217;s temper, as usual. Why did you not tell
+her yourself your reasons for disliking her to go? But, no; I am to be
+the scapegoat, as usual, and Edna will not speak to me for a week.&#8221; And
+so saying he pushed his chair away and walked to the window.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sefton did not answer her stepson. Most likely her conscience told
+her that his reproach was a just one. She only glanced at Bessie&#8217;s
+grieved face and downcast eyes, and proposed to retire.</p>
+
+<p>The drawing-room was empty when they entered it, and as Bessie noticed
+Mrs. Sefton&#8217;s wistful look round the room, she said timidly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I go and talk to Edna?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, my dear; far better not,&#8221; was the reply. &#8220;Edna has a hot temper;
+she takes after her poor father in that. We must give her time to cool.
+I will go to her myself presently. She was very wrong to answer Richard
+in that way, but he has so little tact.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie did not trust herself to reply. She took her book to the window,
+that her hostess might not find it incumbent on her to talk, and in a
+short time Mrs. Sefton left the room. Richard entered it a moment later.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you alone?&#8221; he asked, in some surprise. &#8220;I suppose my mother has
+gone up to Edna?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; she is uneasy about her. Shall I play to you a little, Mr. Sefton?
+It is getting too dark to read.&#8221; Bessie made this overture as a sort of
+amends to Richard, and the friendly little act seemed to soothe him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are very kind. I should like it of all things,&#8221; he returned
+gratefully. So Bessie sat down and played her simple tunes and sung her
+little songs until the young man&#8217;s perturbed spirits were calmed and
+quieted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> by the pure tones of the girlish voice; and presently when she
+paused for a minute, he said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is awfully good of you to take all this trouble for me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, it is not,&#8221; replied Bessie, smiling. &#8220;I like singing; besides,
+you are feeling dull this evening; your talk with your sister has upset
+you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No one ever noticed before if I were dull or not,&#8221; he replied, with a
+sigh; &#8220;but I am afraid that sounds ungracious. I think we owe you an
+apology, Miss Lambert, for airing our family disagreements in your
+presence. I am more sorry than I can say that you should have been
+subjected to this unpleasantness.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, never mind me,&#8221; returned Bessie cheerfully. &#8220;I am only sorry for
+all of you. I dare say Edna did not mean half she said; people say all
+sorts of things when they are angry. I am afraid she is bitterly
+disappointed. I have heard her say before how fond she is of watching
+polo; but I dare say she will soon forget all about it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I cannot flatter myself with that belief. Edna does not so easily
+forget when her whims are crossed. I dare say she will send me to
+Coventry all the week; but I can&#8217;t help that. Nothing would induce me to
+drive her over to Staplehurst, and she will hardly carry out her threat
+of going without me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course not,&#8221; and Bessie fairly laughed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>&#8220;No, it was an idle threat; but all the same it is very vexatious.&#8221; But
+Bessie would not let him dwell on the grievance. She began telling him
+about Tom, and a funny scrape he had got into last term; and this led to
+a conversation about her home, and here Bessie grew eloquent; and she
+was in the midst of a description of Cliffe and its environs when Mrs.
+Sefton reappeared, looking fagged and weary, and informed them that Edna
+had a headache and had retired to bed.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.<br />
+<br />
+<small>THE FIRST SUNDAY AT THE GRANGE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> unfortunate dispute between Edna and her brother had taken place on
+Saturday evening, and as Bessie went up to her room that night she made
+up her mind that the first Sunday at Oatlands would be a failure, as far
+as enjoyment was concerned.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I never can be happy myself unless I see others happy round me,&#8221;
+thought Bessie, rather mournfully; &#8220;and Edna has taken this
+disappointment so badly that I am afraid she will make us all suffer for
+it.&#8221; But in this opinion she was wrong. Her acquaintance with Edna had
+been brief, and she had no suspicion of the intense pride that blended
+with Edna&#8217;s wilfulness, nor of the tenacity, strange in such a bright
+young creature, that could quietly maintain its purpose under a
+careless, light-hearted exterior.</p>
+
+<p>Edna had evidently been ashamed of her outburst of temper on the
+previous evening, for she came down on Sunday morning looking a little
+pale and subdued, and very gentle in her manner to her mother and
+Bessie.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> She seemed to ignore Richard; beyond a cold good morning she
+did not vouchsafe him a word or a look; and as all his overtures toward
+reconciliation were passed over in chilling silence, he soon left her to
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>They all went to church together, and as they walked through the lanes
+Edna seemed to recover her buoyancy. She laughed and chatted with her
+mother, and made sprightly speeches in her usual way; and no one could
+have judged from her manner that there was a spot of bitterness under
+the smooth surface&#8212;an angry consciousness that Richard had dared to
+cross her will.</p>
+
+<p>Ah, well! there are many beside Edna who enter God&#8217;s house with their
+darling sin hugged close to their bosom, fondled and cherished. Truly we
+may say we are miserable sinners, and that there is no health in us, for
+the black plague spot is often hidden under the white vesture,
+undetected by human insight, but clearly legible to the &#8220;Eye that seeth
+not as man seeth.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Once Bessie looked up from her hymn-book as Edna&#8217;s clear, high notes
+reached her ear. Edna seemed singing with all her heart:</p>
+
+<p>
+&#8220;Oh, Paradise! Oh, Paradise!<br />
+Who does not crave for rest?&#8221;<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Her brown eyes were soft with feeling, there was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> a sweet, almost
+angelic look upon her face; a passing emotion possessed her. Alas, that
+such moods should be transitory! And yet it has ever been so in the
+world&#8217;s history. Unsanctified human nature is always fickle, and the
+&#8220;Hosanna&#8221; of yesterday become the &#8220;Crucify Him&#8221; of to-day.</p>
+
+<p>After their early luncheon, Edna asked Bessie if she would go with her
+to see the Athertons.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mamma indulges in a nap on Sunday afternoons,&#8221; she explained, &#8220;and as I
+am not fond of my own company, I run in and have a chat with the girls.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you would excuse me,&#8221; returned Bessie, looking rather uncomfortable,
+&#8220;I would so much rather stay at home. You see, I have been accustomed to
+spend Sunday very quietly. We have never paid visits as some people do.
+Church and Sunday-school and a little sacred music and reading, and the
+day soon passes. If you do not mind, I would rather sit in the garden,
+or take a stroll through those lovely lanes, than go to the Athertons&#8217;.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna looked exceedingly amused at this speech, and at Bessie&#8217;s hot
+cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear Daisy, don&#8217;t look so perturbed. This is Liberty Hall, and our
+guests always do exactly as they please. I would not interfere with your
+little prudish ways for the world. I do not require your company in the
+least. You may retire to your own room and read<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> the &#8216;Pilgrim&#8217;s
+Progress,&#8217; with the blinds down, if you please, and mamma and I will not
+say a word. There&#8217;s Blair&#8217;s &#8216;Sermons&#8217; in the attic, and Hervey&#8217;s
+&#8216;Meditations Among the Tombs.&#8217; They are a bit dusty, perhaps, but you
+won&#8217;t object to that, for they are full of wholesome and cheerful
+reading.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; returned Bessie, undisturbed by this light banter. &#8220;But I
+brought a book from home, in which I am much interested&#8212;&#8216;Bishop
+Hannington&#8217;s Life&#8217;&#8212;and as you are so good as to spare me, I mean to
+explore some of those shady lanes; they are so nice and quiet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna was about to make another mischievous rejoinder, but as she looked
+at Bessie she refrained. Bessie&#8217;s contented, gentle expression, the
+quiet dignity that seemed to invest her girlishness, closed Edna&#8217;s
+mouth.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She is a good little thing, and I won&#8217;t tease her,&#8221; she thought. And
+she refrained with much magnanimity from one of her droll speeches when
+Maud Atherton asked where Miss Lambert was.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She preferred taking a walk,&#8221; returned Edna; which was the truth, but
+not the whole truth, for, as she said to herself, &#8220;those girls shall not
+have the chance of laughing at my dear little Bessie.&#8221; And she cleverly
+changed the conversation to a safer topic; for she was quite a
+diplomatist in her small way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna is really very good-natured,&#8221; thought Bessie gratefully, as she
+sauntered happily through the leafy lanes.</p>
+
+<p>How delicious the air felt! It was June, and yet there was still the
+crispness of the spring. She felt as though she and the birds had this
+beautiful world to themselves, and the twitterings and rustlings in the
+thicket were the only sounds that broke the Sabbath stillness.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie had just turned into a sunny bit of road when an abject-looking
+white dog with a black patch over his eye suddenly wriggled himself
+through a half-closed gate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, I do believe that is Bill Sykes,&#8221; thought Bessie, as the creature
+stood looking at her. &#8220;Bill, what are you doing so far from home?&#8221; Bill
+wagged his tail feebly in a deprecating manner. &#8220;Why don&#8217;t you walk like
+a gentleman?&#8221; continued Bessie, and, to her great amusement, the dog
+rose solemnly on his hind legs and commenced stalking down the lane.
+Bessie burst into a laugh that was echoed by another voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well done, old Bill.&#8221; And, looking up, Bessie saw Richard Sefton
+leaning on the gate, with his dogs round him. &#8220;Don&#8217;t move, Miss
+Lambert,&#8221; he continued hastily; &#8220;stand where you are till I join you.&#8221;
+And as Bessie looked rather surprised at this peremptory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> speech, he
+walked quickly to her side and put his hand on her shoulder. &#8220;A friend,
+Leo. Excuse my unceremoniousness, Miss Lambert, but Leo needs an
+introduction;&#8221; and at his words a huge mastiff, who had been eyeing
+Bessie in a dubious manner, walked quietly up to her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will it be safe for me to pat him?&#8221; asked Bessie, as she looked at the
+big tawny head and heavy jowl of the magnificent beast; but the brown
+sunken eyes had a friendly expression in them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, Leo will be as quiet as a lamb; and what is more, he will
+never forget you. You may go within the reach of his chain any day, and
+he will behave to you like a gentleman. Leo is an aristocrat, and never
+forgets <em>noblesse oblige</em>.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He is a splendid animal,&#8221; returned Bessie; and then she noticed the
+other dogs. They were all there: Gelert and Brand, and Juno and her
+puppies, and Spot and Tim.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We have been for a long walk,&#8221; observed Richard, as they turned their
+faces homeward. &#8220;The dogs have been wild with spirits, and I had some
+difficulty with them at first. You see, they make the most of their
+weekly holiday.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What do you do on a wet Sunday?&#8221; asked Bessie curiously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I smoke a pipe with them in the stable, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> so give them the
+pleasure of my company. I do hate disappointing dumb animals, Miss
+Lambert&#8212;they have their feelings as well as we have, and I think we
+ought to behave handsomely to them. I remember when I was quite a little
+fellow my mother taught me that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your mother!&#8221; in some surprise, for somehow Mrs. Sefton never gave
+Bessie the impression that her relations with Richard were of the
+motherly sort.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I mean my then mother,&#8221; he returned <a name="hastily" id="hastily"></a><ins title="original has hastiiy">hastily</ins>, as though
+answering her unspoken thought. &#8220;I was very young when she died, but I
+have never forgotten her. She was not a lady by birth, you know; only a
+farmer&#8217;s or yeoman&#8217;s daughter, but there is not a lady living who is
+prettier or sweeter than she was.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am glad you feel like that to your mother,&#8221; replied Bessie, in a
+sympathetic voice that seemed to ask for further confidence.</p>
+
+<p>Richard Sefton had never spoken of his mother to any one before. What
+could have drawn the beloved name from his lips? Was it this girl&#8217;s
+soothing presence, or the stillness of the hour and the quiet beauty of
+the scene round him? Richard was impressionable by nature, and possibly
+each of these things influenced him. It was a new pleasure to speak to a
+kindly listener of the memories that lay hidden in his faithful heart.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and yet I was a mere child when I lost her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>&#8221; he went on, and
+there was a moved look on his face; &#8220;but I remember her as plainly as I
+see you now. She was so young and pretty&#8212;every one said so. I remember
+once, when I was lying in my little cot one night, too hot and feverish
+to sleep, that she came up to me in her white gown&#8212;it was made of some
+shining stuff, silk or satin&#8212;and she had a sparkling cross on her neck.
+I remember how it flashed in my eyes as she stooped to kiss me, and how
+she carried me to the window to look at the stars. &#8216;Are they not bright,
+Ritchie?&#8217; she said; &#8216;and beyond there is the great beautiful heaven,
+where my little boy will go some day;&#8217; and then she stood rocking me in
+her arms. I heard her say plainly, &#8216;Oh, that I and my little child were
+there now!&#8217; And as she spoke something wet fell on my face. I have heard
+since that she was not happy&#8212;not as happy as she ought to have been,
+poor mother!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And is that all you can remember?&#8221; asked Bessie gently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; I have many vague recollections of making daisy chains with my
+mother on the lawn; of a great yellow cowslip ball flung to me in the
+orchard; of a Sunday afternoon, when some pictures of Samuel, and David
+and Goliath, were shown me; and many other little incidents. Children do
+remember, whatever grown-up people say.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>&#8220;I think it would be terrible to lose one&#8217;s mother, especially when one
+is a child,&#8221; observed Bessie, in a feeling voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have found it so, I assure you,&#8221; replied Richard gravely. &#8220;My
+<a name="stepmother" id="stepmother"></a><ins title="original has step-mother">stepmother</ins> was young, and did not understand
+children&#8212;boys especially. I seemed somewhat in the way to every one but
+my father. A lonely childhood is a sad thing; no success nor happiness
+in after life seems to make up for it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I understand what you mean; father always says children claim happiness
+as a right.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is most certainly their prerogative; but I fear I am boring you with
+my reminiscences.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not at all; you are giving me a great pleasure, Mr. Sefton. I do like
+knowing about people&#8212;their real selves, I mean, not their outside; it
+is so much more interesting than any book. I think, as a rule, people
+shut themselves up too much, and so they exclude light and sympathy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;One longs for sympathy sometimes,&#8221; said Richard; but he turned away his
+face as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; every one needs it, and most of us get it,&#8221; replied Bessie,
+feeling very sorry for the young man in her heart. He was too manly and
+too generous to complain openly of his stepmother&#8217;s treatment, but
+Bessie understood it all as well as though he had spoken.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;In a large family there is no complaint to be made on this score. When
+I have a grievance there is always mother or Hatty, or Christine and
+father. We take all our big things to father. Oh, at home, no one is
+left out in the cold.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think your home must be a happy one, Miss Lambert&#8212;but here we are at
+The Grange. I must bid you good-bye for the present, for I have an
+errand in the village.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But Richard did not explain that his errand was to sit with a crippled
+lad, whose life of suffering debarred him from all pleasure. If there
+were one person in the world whom Bob Rollton adored it was &#8220;the young
+squire.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He is a real gentleman, he is,&#8221; Bob would say; &#8220;and not one of your
+make-believe gentry. It is all along of him and Spot and the little &#8217;un,
+Tim, that I don&#8217;t hate Sundays; but he comes reg&#8217;lar, does the squire;
+and he brings some rare good books with him; and Tim curls himself up on
+my blanket, and Spot sits on the window-sill, making believe to listen,
+and we have a good old time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Other people beside Bob could have cited instances of the young squire&#8217;s
+thoughtfulness and active benevolence; but Richard Sefton was one who
+did good by stealth, and almost as though he were ashamed of it, and
+neither his stepmother nor Edna guessed how much he was beloved in the
+village.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>Mrs. Sefton was one of those people who never believed in virtue, unless
+it had the special hall-mark that conventionality stamps upon it, and
+Richard&#8217;s simple charities, his small self-denials, would have appeared
+despicable in her eyes. She herself gave largely to the poor at
+Christmas; blankets and clothing by the bale found their way to the East
+End. The vicar of Melton called her &#8220;The benevolent Mrs. Sefton,&#8221; but
+she and Edna never entered a cottage, never sat beside a sick bed, nor
+smoothed a dying pillow. Edna would have been horrified at such a
+suggestion. What had her bright youth to do with disease, dirt and
+misery? &#8220;Don&#8217;t tell me about it,&#8221; was her usual cry, when any one
+volunteered to relate some piteous story. That such things should be
+allowed in a world governed by a merciful Providence was incredible,
+terrible, but that she should be brought into contact with it was an
+offence to her ladylike judgment.</p>
+
+<p>Many a girl has thought like Edna Sefton, and yet a royal princess could
+enter a squalid cottage, and take the starving babe to her bosom; and
+from that day to this Princess Alice has been a type of loving
+womanhood.</p>
+
+<p>Edna had not returned from the Athertons when Bessie entered the house,
+so she went alone to the evening service. As the service was at
+half-past six, an informal meal was served at a quarter past eight, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
+allow the servants to attend church. Bessie was rather surprised at this
+mark of thoughtfulness, but she found out afterward that Richard had
+induced his stepmother, with some difficulty, to give up the ceremonious
+late dinner. She urged as an objection that neither she nor Edna ever
+attended the evening service; but he overruled this, and carried his
+point.</p>
+
+<p>Just before service commenced, Bessie was surprised to see him enter the
+church. She had no idea that he would come, but he told her afterward
+that it was his usual practice.</p>
+
+<p>Just as they were starting for the homeward walk they were joined by a
+cousin of the Athertons. Bessie had seen her the previous day. She was a
+fair, interesting-looking girl, dressed in deep mourning. Her name was
+Grace Donnerton. Richard seemed to know her well. He had evidently
+waited for her to overtake them, and they all walked on happily
+together.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was much taken with her. She was the daughter of a clergyman, who
+had a large parish in Leeds, and she interested Bessie very much in her
+account of her own and her sister&#8217;s work. They had lately lost their
+mother, and it was surprising to hear of the way in which these young
+creatures helped their father in his good work.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;When any one is ill, we generally help in nursing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> them,&#8221; Grace had
+said, quite simply. &#8220;There are so many of us that we can easily be
+spared, and we are so fond of our poor people. We have all attended
+ambulance lectures, and Lizzie, that is my eldest sister, is now
+training for a year at a hospital. She is very strong, and so fond of
+nursing, and she hopes to be very useful when she comes home. There are
+five of us, and we take turns in being papa&#8217;s housekeeper. Emma, who is
+very clever, manages the mother&#8217;s meeting, and the rest of us do
+district work.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was so interested by all this that she was sorry when the walk
+drew to a close. After they had said good-bye to Miss Donnerton, Bessie
+said &#8220;What a nice girl! I am sure I should like to know more of her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; I knew she would be your sort; that is why I waited for her,&#8221;
+replied Richard, as he opened the gate.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie wondered over this speech as she ran up to her room. &#8220;My sort!
+what could he have meant by that?&#8221; she said to herself. &#8220;I only wish I
+were like Miss Donnerton, for I am sure she is sweet and good. Well, it
+has been a lovely day. I have not wished myself at home once. Now I must
+devote myself to Edna.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna looked a little tired and bored, and Bessie did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> not find it easy
+to interest her. She appeared to be quite indifferent to Miss
+Donnerton&#8217;s merits.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Grace! so you like her, do you? Well, I must confess she is too
+good for me. I never found her say anything interesting yet, but then I
+did not talk to her about poor people,&#8221; and Edna sneered slightly in a
+ladylike way. &#8220;I think all the girls were relieved when she went to
+church, for we could not get her to talk about anything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Yes, Edna was decidedly impracticable that evening. She would not be
+induced to play or sing; she was not in the humor for sacred music; no,
+she did not want to read; and everything was slow and stupid.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie coaxed her into the garden at last, and the soft evening air
+refreshed her in spite of herself.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you ever feel <em>ennuy&#233;e</em> and horrid?&#8221; she asked, in a sort of
+apologetic manner, presently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I suppose so; at least, I don&#8217;t quite know what you mean,&#8221;
+returned Bessie; but she was not thinking of the question. The stars
+were glittering overhead, and Richard Sefton&#8217;s words recurred to her.
+How clearly she could see it all! The little lonely boy in his cot, the
+young mother coming up to soothe him. She could picture her so plainly
+in the white shining gown and the sparkling cross, with the tears
+falling on the child&#8217;s face. &#8220;Oh, that I and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> my little child were there
+now!&#8221; Oh, how sad it all sounded; and she had gone, and not taken the
+boy with her. &#8220;Poor Mr. Sefton!&#8221; thought Bessie, as she recalled the
+sad, quiet tones and the moved look on Richard&#8217;s face.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.<br />
+<br />
+<small>WHITEFOOT IN REQUISITION.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Three</span> days after this Bessie wrote the following letter&#8212;it was
+commenced on Wednesday, and finished on Thursday morning:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">My Dear Little Hattie</span>: It is your turn for a regular long letter, as I
+have already written to mother and Christine. I don&#8217;t write to father
+because he is so busy, and letters bother him; but you must tell him all
+the news. You cannot think how Edna laughs at my correspondence; she
+always says it is such waste of time; but you and I know better than
+that. It is just the one thing that I can do for you all, now that I am
+away, and I am not so selfish that I grudge an hour in the day. I know
+how disappointed one face looks when there is no letter from Bessie in
+the morning, and so I lay down my book and scribble away as I am doing
+now.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am having a lovely time. I do not think I have ever played so much in
+my life before. It is such a new thing, and yet it is rather nice, too,
+to hear Edna say in the morning, &#8216;Now, what shall we do to-day?&#8217; as
+though one&#8217;s whole duty were to amuse one&#8217;s self. Father always says,
+&#8216;Whatever you do, do it thoroughly,&#8217; and I am carrying out his maxim to
+the letter, for I do nothing but enjoy myself, and I do it thoroughly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
+On Monday I finished my letter to Crissy before breakfast, and
+afterward, as Edna was busy, I spent a long morning reading &#8216;The Village
+on the Cliff.&#8217; I have finished it now, and think it lovely. I do enjoy
+these mornings in the garden; but I must not read too many stories, only
+Edna says I shall like &#8216;Old Kensington,&#8217; and I must indulge myself with
+that. I assure you we make quite a picture. Mac lies at my feet, and
+Spot generally curls himself up on my lap. Tim prefers lying on the lawn
+and keeping an eye upon the kitten. She is such a droll little creature,
+and her antics quite distract me.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I had this delicious morning to myself, and in the afternoon we
+played tennis at the Athertons&#8217;. There were no visitors, but we girls
+played by ourselves, and I had a long talk with Grace Donnerton. I liked
+her better than ever; but just as she was talking to me about her
+sister&#8217;s hospital, Maud Atherton disturbed us by telling us tea was
+ready.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The next morning Edna drove me over to Kimberley&#8212;such a lovely drive;
+and the ponies were so frisky and went so well. We called at a beautiful
+old house, called Kimberley Hall&#8212;I never saw such a place&#8212;and had
+luncheon there. Mrs. Blondell, our hostess, is such a dear old lady,
+with pretty white curls, and such a sweet old face. Her husband is such
+a handsome old man; but he is quite deaf, and no one seems to make him
+hear anything except his wife, and she goes up and speaks to him in a
+low, distinct voice, and tells him things, and he brightens up at once.
+He is such a courtly old man, and pays little old-fashioned compliments.
+He took Edna&#8217;s hand and said, &#8216;We do not often see a pretty young face,
+my dear, but it is a very pleasant sight. I remember your mother when
+she was a girl, and a fine, handsome creature she was. I think her
+daughter does her credit, eh, Dolly?&#8217; And Dolly&#8212;that is the dear old
+lady&#8217;s name&#8212;put her pretty old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> hand on his arm, and said, &#8216;She does
+indeed, Rupert, and she has got a look of our Maisie about her;&#8217; and
+then they looked at each other in such a way.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna explained it to me as we drove home. She said they had one child,
+a beautiful girl, who lived until she was seventeen, and then died of
+some wasting disease. She had been dead fifteen years, but the old
+couple had never got over her loss. &#8216;I am there often,&#8217; Edna went on,
+&#8216;but I have never once been without hearing Maisie&#8217;s name mentioned;
+they are always talking about her. One day Mrs. Blondell took me
+upstairs and showed me all her things. There were her little gowns, most
+of them white, folded in the big wardrobe. &#8216;She was to have worn this at
+her first ball,&#8217; said the poor woman, pulling down a lace dress; it
+looked quite fresh somehow, only the satin slip was a trifle discolored.
+There were the shoes, and the silk stockings, and a case of pearls, and
+the long gloves. &#8216;She would have looked lovely in it,&#8217; she went on,
+smoothing out the folds with her tremulous fingers. &#8216;Rupert says she
+would have made hearts ache. Thank you my dear, you are very kind,&#8217; for
+I could not help hugging the dear old thing. It made me cry, too, to
+hear her. <a name="I_go" id="I_go"></a><ins title="original has no opening quotation mark">&#8216;I go</ins> there very often because they like to see me; they
+will have it I am like Maisie, but I am not half so pretty.&#8217; And Edna
+laughed, though her eyes were moist, and touched up Jill rather smartly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We had some people to dinner that evening, so Edna made me put on my
+Indian muslin, which she said looked very nice. She wore a soft white
+silk herself, which suited her admirably. She has some beautiful dresses
+which she showed me; she says her mother thinks nothing too good for
+her, and showers presents on her. She gets tired of her dresses before
+they are half worn out. I was half afraid she was going to offer me one,
+for she looked at me rather wistfully, but I made a pretext to leave the
+room. I enjoyed myself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> very much that evening. The curate took me in to
+dinner, and I found him very clever and amusing, and he talked so much
+that, though I was very hungry, I could hardly get enough to eat; but
+Edna, who declared that she had had no dinner either, brought me up a
+great plate of cake when we went to bed. Edna sang beautifully that
+evening, and the curate&#8212;his name is Horton&#8212;sung too, and Florence
+Atherton brought her violin. I had never heard a lady play the violin
+before, but Edna tells me I am old-fashioned, and that it is all the
+rage at present, and certainly Miss Atherton played extremely well.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-bye for the present, dear Hatty; I will add more to-morrow. This
+is a sort of journal, you know, not a letter, and I shall write a little
+bit each day.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Do be nice and lengthy,&#8217; you said, and I am sure I am carrying out
+your wish.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+<p class="r2 pt">
+&#8220;Thursday morning.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, here I am again sitting at my writing-table, pen in hand, and
+&#8216;the top of the morning to ye, darlint,&#8217; as Biddy used to say; but my
+Hatty will be still asleep, I know, as she is not one of the strong
+ones, poor little Hatty! Such a wonderful thing happened to me
+yesterday&#8212;I actually had a riding-lesson. Do tell father that, for he
+knows how I used to envy Tom when Colonel Miles gave him a mount. It
+happened in this way. Edna was talking at breakfast time about her ride
+in the Row, and Mr. Sefton said suddenly, &#8216;How would you like to learn
+to ride, Miss Lambert?&#8217; and not thinking he meant anything by the
+question, I said, &#8216;I should like it of all things. I do long for a good
+gallop.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8216;Oh, you must not gallop before you trot,&#8217; he returned, quite seriously;
+&#8216;Edna, if you still have your old habit by you, I don&#8217;t see why I should
+not give Miss Lambert a lesson. Old Whitefoot is doing nothing for her
+living.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well&#8212;would you believe it?&#8212;he was quite in earnest, and Edna, who is
+very good-natured, seemed to think it a good bit of fun, for she jumped
+up from the table and told her brother to bring Whitefoot round in half
+an hour; and then she made me go upstairs with her and put on a
+beautiful blue habit, which seemed to me quite new; but she said she had
+a much better one made for her last season. It fitted me tolerably, and
+only required a little alteration to be perfect&#8212;and I assure you I
+hardly knew myself in it, I looked so nice; but a dark habit is always
+so becoming. Edna looks like a picture in hers.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, when we went downstairs, there was Whitefoot&#8212;such a pretty brown
+mare&#8212;with Mr. Sefton standing beside her, and Brown Bess was being
+brought round from the stable. I was just a little nervous at first, but
+Mr. Sefton was very kind and patient; he taught me how to gather up my
+reins, and how to hold myself; and he would not mount for some time, but
+walked beside me for a little distance, telling me things, and when he
+saw I felt less strange he jumped on Brown Bess, and we had a canter
+together.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear Hatty, it was just delicious! I never felt happier in my life.
+But Mr. Sefton would not let me ride long; he said I should be very
+stiff at first, and that we should have a longer ride to-morrow, when
+Edna would be with us; and of course I had to submit.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was far too lazy to play tennis that afternoon, so Edna made me get
+into the hammock, and I had a nice, quiet time with my book, while she
+and the Athertons had their usual games, and bye and bye Grace Donnerton
+came and sat by me, and we had another nice talk.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The next morning Edna said she would ride with us, so Mr. Sefton
+ordered the horses directly after breakfast, and we had a glorious ride
+for more than two hours. I found trotting rather difficult at first, but
+Mr. Sefton would not let Edna laugh at my awkwardness,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> and he
+encouraged me by telling me that I should soon ride well, and after that
+I did not mind a bit. Edna really rides perfectly; it was a pleasure to
+watch her. Once she left us and had a tearing gallop by herself over the
+common. The other horses got excited and wanted to gallop too, but Mr.
+Sefton held Whitefoot&#8217;s reins, and managed to quiet them both with some
+difficulty. I thought Edna looked lovely as she rode back to us; she had
+such a beautiful color, and her eyes looked so bright I don&#8217;t wonder
+people admire her so.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna was going to an archery meeting that afternoon with the Athertons,
+but as there was no room for me in their wagonette, I stayed at home
+quietly with Mrs. Sefton, and managed to make myself useful, for several
+people called, and I had to make tea and help entertain them; but I got
+a quiet hour in my favorite garden seat. Edna brought Florence and Maud
+Atherton back to dinner, and we had a very merry evening, playing all
+sorts of games. Mr. Sefton came into the drawing-room for a little
+while, but he did not stay long. I think the girls quizzed him, and made
+him uncomfortable. It is such a pity that he is not more at his ease in
+society; people think he is stupid and cannot talk, but he is really
+very intelligent, and knows a great deal about a good many subjects.
+There is to be no ride to-morrow. Mrs. Sefton is going up to town on
+business, and Edna is to accompany her to the station, for, although Mr.
+Sefton suggested that I should go out with him for an hour, I could see
+that they did not second it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now, darling, I have told you everything, and I think you will own that
+I am having a good time. I hope all this pleasure is not spoiling me,
+but I think of you all as much as ever, and especially of my Hatty. Are
+you very dull without me, dear? And how do you sleep? Write and tell me
+everything&#8212;how mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> looks, and what Tom said in his last letter, and
+if father is busy. And if any of you want me very badly, you must say
+so, and I will come home at once, though I do want some more rides, and
+Edna has promised to drive me over to Kimberley again. But there is the
+gong, and I must run down to breakfast. Good-bye, my dearest Hatty.</p>
+
+<p class="r1">&#8220;Your loving</p>
+<p class="r2">&#8220;<span class="smcap">Bessie</span>.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Bessie had written out of the fullness of her girlish content. She
+wanted to share her pleasure with Hatty. Happiness did not make her
+selfish, nor did new scenes and varied experiences shut out home
+memories, for Bessie was not one of those feeble natures who are carried
+out of themselves by every change of circumstances, neither had she the
+chameleon-like character that develops new tendencies under new
+influences; at The Grange she was just the same simple, kindly Bessie
+Lambert as she had been at Cliffe.</p>
+
+<p>After all, she was not disappointed of her ride. Jennings, the groom,
+had a commission to do at Leigh, and Richard proposed to his stepmother
+that Bessie should ride over there too. Jennings was an old servant, and
+very trusty and reliable, and she might be safely put in his charge. To
+this Mrs. Sefton made no objection, and Bessie had a delightful morning,
+and made good progress under Jennings&#8217; respectful hints. Bessie had just
+taken off her habit, and was preparing for luncheon, when Edna entered
+the room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What dress are you going to wear this afternoon, Bessie?&#8221; she asked
+rather abruptly, and her manner was a little off-hand. &#8220;I shall be in
+white, of course, and I shall wear my gray dust cloak for the roads,
+but&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What dress!&#8221; returned Bessie, rather puzzled at the question; she was
+hot and tired from her long ride, and had been looking forward to an
+afternoon of delicious idleness. &#8220;Is any one coming? I mean, are we
+going anywhere?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, of course,&#8221; replied Edna impatiently, and she did not seem in the
+best of tempers; &#8220;it is Thursday, is it not? and we are engaged for the
+polo match. You must make haste and finish dressing, for we must start
+directly after luncheon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean that Mr. Sefton is going to drive us over to Staplehurst,
+after all?&#8221; asked Bessie, feeling very much astonished at Richard&#8217;s
+change of plan; he had not even spoken on the subject at breakfast-time,
+but he must have arranged it afterward.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Richard!&#8221; rather contemptuously. &#8220;Richard is by this time lunching at
+the Fordham Inn, with half a dozen stupid farmers. Have you forgotten
+that he flatly refused to drive us at all? Oh, I have not forgotten his
+lecture, I assure you, though it does not seem to have made much
+impression on you. Well, why are you looking at me with such big eyes,
+Bessie, as though you found it difficult to understand me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>&#8220;Because I don&#8217;t understand you Edna,&#8221; replied Bessie frankly. &#8220;You know
+both your mother and brother objected to Captain Grant&#8217;s invitation; you
+cannot surely intend to go in opposition to their wishes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Their wishes! I suppose you mean Richard&#8217;s wish, for mamma never opened
+her lips on the subject; she just listened to Richard&#8217;s tirade.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But she did not contradict him; and surely you must have seen from her
+face that she agreed with every word.&#8221; Bessie did not dare to add that
+Mrs. Sefton had expressed her strong disapproval of Captain Grant to
+her. &#8220;She was looking at you so anxiously all the time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is only mamma&#8217;s fussiness. Of course I know she does not want
+me to go. I don&#8217;t mean to pretend that I am not aware of that, but mamma
+knows that I generally have my own way in this sort of thing, and she
+did not actually forbid it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Edna! what can that matter when you know her real wishes?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear, don&#8217;t preach; your words will not influence me in the least. I
+told Richard, before mamma, that I should go, and I mean to carry out my
+word. You are a free agent, Bessie; I cannot oblige you to go with me,
+but as the Athertons are all engaged, I could not get one of them in
+your place.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>&#8220;But if I say I cannot go, what will you do then?&#8221; asked Bessie
+anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;In that case I should go alone,&#8221; returned Edna coldly; &#8220;but I should
+think you were unkind to desert me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I should have to bear that,&#8221; replied Bessie rather sadly; &#8220;it is not
+what you would think of me, but what I ought to do. Oh, Edna, you are
+placing me in a very difficult position. I do not know how to act, and
+the whole thing distresses me so. Do give it up for my sake, and just to
+please me; do Edna, dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I cannot give it up,&#8221; was Edna&#8217;s answer; &#8220;but I will not argue any more
+about it. Make up your mind quickly, Bessie, for there is no time to
+lose.&#8221; And so saying, she left the room, and a moment afterward Bessie
+heard her ringing for her maid.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie had never felt more distressed; she was so tired and so perplexed
+how to act, that she could almost have cried from worry. &#8220;If I go with
+her, will not Mrs. Sefton and Mr. Richard have a right to be offended
+with me?&#8221; she thought. &#8220;They will not know that I have tried to turn
+Edna from her purpose; they do not know me well enough to be sure of my
+motives. Edna told him that I wanted to see polo played; they may
+believe that I was willing to go. I cannot bear to put myself in this
+position; and yet, will it be right to let her go alone? Will they not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
+blame me for that, too? Oh, how I wish I could speak to Mr. Sefton; but
+he is away. What shall I do? I must decide. It seems such a little thing
+to pray about, and yet little things bring big consequences. No, I can&#8217;t
+moralize; I am too worried. Why can I not see the right thing to do at
+once?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie sat and reflected a moment, and then a sudden impulse came to
+her, and she opened her blotting-case, and wrote a few hurried lines.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dear Mrs. Sefton,&#8221; she wrote, &#8220;I am so troubled, I hardly know what to
+do. Edna has just told me that she intends to drive over to Staplehurst
+after luncheon to see polo played, and has asked me to accompany her. I
+cannot induce her to give it up. Please do not think that I have not
+tried. I know how much you and Mr. Sefton were against it; but I do not
+think you would wish me to stay behind. She ought not to go alone. I
+feel you will be less anxious if I go with her.&#8221; Bessie dashed off these
+few lines, and then dressed herself hurriedly; but before she had half
+finished the gong sounded.</p>
+
+<p>As she ran downstairs she met Dixon, the butler, coming out of the
+dining-room, and putting the note in his hand, begged that he would give
+it to his mistress directly she returned.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Certainly, ma&#8217;am,&#8221; replied Dixon civilly; and it struck Bessie that he
+looked at her in an approving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> manner. He was an old servant, too, and
+most likely was accustomed to his young mistress&#8217; vagaries. &#8220;We expect
+my mistress home at six, and I will take care she gets the note,&#8221; he
+continued, as he opened the door for her.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.<br />
+<br />
+<small>BESSIE SNUBS A HERO.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">&#8220;So</span> you are going, after all?&#8221; was the only remark made by Edna, as she
+caught sight of Bessie&#8217;s gray gown. &#8220;Well, be quick; I have nearly
+finished my luncheon. I thought you were never coming, and there was no
+time to lose.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will not keep you waiting,&#8221; returned Bessie, whose healthy young
+appetite failed her for once. &#8220;I am not hungry.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense?&#8221; said Edna, with restored good-humor. &#8220;You will find this
+mayonnaise excellent. You have had a long ride, and the drive to
+Staplehurst will take nearly an hour. We shall have a lovely afternoon
+for our expedition.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna was chatting in her old lively fashion. She really looked
+exquisitely pretty this afternoon, and she seemed to take a delight in
+her own naughtiness. Her eyes sparkled mischievously every time she
+looked at Bessie&#8217;s grave face. She was as frisky as a young colt who had
+just taken his bit between his teeth and had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> bolted. Her spirits seemed
+to rise during her long drive, and she talked and laughed without
+intermission.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie tried to respond and to make herself agreeable, but her efforts
+failed signally. She looked forward to the afternoon as a long martyrdom
+to be endured; the thought of Mrs. Sefton&#8217;s and Richard&#8217;s reproachful
+faces came between her and all enjoyment. Edna took no notice of her
+unusual gravity; she had gained her end, and obliged Bessie to bear her
+unwilling company, and so she was satisfied. It was almost a relief to
+Bessie when the drive was over, and they found themselves at
+Staplehurst.</p>
+
+<p>Polo was to be played in a large park-like meadow belonging to
+Staplehurst Hall. As they drove in at the gate, two or three of the
+officers who were to play were walking about in their bright silk
+jerseys, while their ponies followed them, led by their grooms. One came
+up at once, and greeted the young ladies.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was on the lookout for you, Miss Sefton,&#8221; he observed, with a smile
+that he evidently intended to be winning, but which Bessie thought was
+extremely disagreeable. &#8220;I knew you would not disappoint me, even if
+Sefton proved obdurate.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Richard had some stupid farming engagement,&#8221; returned Edna, &#8220;so I
+brought Miss Lambert instead. Is your mother on the ground, Captain
+Grant?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>&#8220;Yes; let me take you to her,&#8221; he replied, with alacrity; but it was
+some time before Jack and Jill made their way to the central point where
+the ladies were sitting. Several of the officers joined Captain Grant,
+and there was quite a triumphal procession through the field. Edna sat
+like a little queen guiding her ponies, and distributing smiles and gay
+speeches. Admiration and pleasure were as the breath of life to her; she
+was at once peremptory and gracious; she looked down at her escort with
+a sort of benign amusement. When Captain Grant handed her out of the low
+chaise, she made her way through the ladies with the air of a princess.</p>
+
+<p>A tall, high-colored woman, with dark hair, and dressed in rather bad
+taste, held out her hand and welcomed her warmly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear, I am so glad to see you; Jem told me you were sure to come. Is
+this Miss Lambert? Put those chairs closer, Jem. And so your mother
+could not come. Never mind; I am used to chaperoning young ladies,
+though I never had girls of my own.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna answered civilly, but Bessie soon perceived that Mrs. Grant&#8217;s
+conversation was not exactly to her taste. She spoke in a loud voice,
+and as most of her remarks were about her boy Jem, as she called him,
+his extraordinary cleverness and good luck at polo, and his merits as a
+son and officer, it was extremely desirable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> that they should not be
+overheard, but Mrs. Grant seemed quite indifferent to the amused looks
+of the ladies round her, and her broad, good-natured face beamed with
+smiles as Jem made a fine stroke and won the goal.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He rides better than any of the men,&#8221; she exclaimed proudly. &#8220;I&#8217;ll back
+my boy against any of them. Oh, look, Miss Sefton, Singleton has hit the
+ball away&#8212;no, Jem is galloping after him, he means to carry it.
+Yes&#8212;no&#8212;yes! they are through! Bravo, Jem, bravo!&#8221; and Mrs. Grant
+clapped her hands excitedly.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of her uneasiness, it was impossible for Bessie not to become
+first interested and then absorbed in the game, and for a little while
+she forgot all about The Grange. She had never seen polo played before,
+and she was carried away by the excitement of that fascinating but
+perilous game; the mad rush of the horses across the grass, the quick
+strokes of the players, the magnificent riding, and the ease and grace
+with which the officers guided their ponies and leaned over their
+saddles to strike the ball; the breathless moment when young Singleton
+rode alone with all the others pursuing him wildly; no wonder Bessie
+felt enthralled by the novelty of the sight. She uttered a little scream
+once when the horses and riders all crushed together in a sort of
+confused melee.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is any one hurt?&#8221; she exclaimed in much distress; but Edna and Mrs.
+Grant only laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You must come with me and have some tea,&#8221; observed Mrs. Grant, when the
+match was over. &#8220;My lodgings are just by.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna hesitated for a moment, and Bessie touched her arm.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is already five,&#8221; she whispered. &#8220;Do you see those dark clouds? We
+shall have a thunder-shower soon; I think it would be better to start
+for home.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And be caught in the rain,&#8221; replied Edna, with a shrug. &#8220;And we have no
+umbrellas nor waterproofs. No, Bessie; we must take refuge at Mrs.
+Grant&#8217;s until the shower is over. Come along; don&#8217;t make a fuss. I do
+not want to go any more than you do, but it is no use getting wet
+through; we cannot help it if we are late for dinner.&#8221; And so saying,
+Edna again joined the talkative Mrs. Grant.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie said no more, but all her uneasiness returned as she followed
+Edna. Mrs. Grant had temporary lodgings in the High Street, over a
+linen-draper&#8217;s shop. She ushered her young guests into a large untidy
+looking room with three windows overlooking the street. One or two of
+the other ladies joined them, and one officer after another soon found
+their way up the steep little staircase, for Mrs. Grant was noted for
+her hospitality. She called Edna to help her at the tea-table,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> and
+Bessie seated herself by one of the windows. No one took much notice of
+her; her good-natured partner at tennis, Leonard Singleton, was not
+among Mrs. Grant&#8217;s guests.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Grant brought her some tea, and offered her cake and fruit, but
+he soon left her to devote himself exclusively to Miss Sefton. Bessie
+felt very dull, and out in the cold, and yet she had no wish to join the
+gay group round the tea-table. The room felt close and oppressive; the
+first heavy drops were pattering on the window; two or three children
+were running down the street with a yellow dog barking at their heels.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will get wet; shall I close the window?&#8221; observed a voice behind
+her, and Bessie started and looked round at the tall, solemn-looking
+young officer who had been introduced to her two hours previously as
+&#8220;Captain Broughton, not of ours, Miss Lambert.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, I prefer it open, it is so warm,&#8221; replied Bessie hastily.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, ah, yes! Are you fond of polo?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I never saw it played until this afternoon; it is very exciting, but I
+am sure it must be dangerous.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing to speak of; an accident now and then&#8212;man half killed last
+Thursday, though.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, dear, how dreadful!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The solemn-faced officer relaxed into a smile.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>&#8220;Well, he might have been killed outright in battle, don&#8217;t you know;
+accidents will happen now and then; it is just luck, you see, and Owen
+always is such an unlucky beggar.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie refuted this with some vivacity. She explained that though it
+might be a man&#8217;s duty to die for his country, it was quite another thing
+to imperil a valuable life on a mere game; but she could make no
+impression on the solemn-faced captain.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But it is an uncommonly good game, don&#8217;t you know,&#8221; he persisted; and
+Bessie gave up the point, for Captain Broughton&#8217;s mind seemed as wooden
+as his face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was no good talking to such a man,&#8221; she observed to Edna, as they
+drove home; &#8220;he said &#8216;Don&#8217;t you know&#8217; at the end of every sentence, and
+seemed so stupid.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you talking about Captain Broughton?&#8221; asked Edna calmly. &#8220;My dear
+Daisy, it is not always wise to judge by appearances. Captain Broughton
+is not specially amusing in conversation, but he is a brave fellow. Do
+you know, he wears the Victoria Cross for his gallantry in saving a
+wounded soldier; only a private too. Yes; though he was wounded himself,
+he carried him off the field. He was a village lad&#8212;one of his own
+tenants&#8212;who had followed him out to India, and when another ball struck
+him he just staggered on.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>&#8220;Oh, dear,&#8221; groaned Bessie; &#8220;this is a punishment to me for judging too
+quickly. To think I had the opportunity for the first time in my life of
+talking to a hero, and that I called him stupid! This is a case of
+entertaining angels unawares. But if one could only know they were
+angels.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna only laughed at this; but Bessie found food for uncomfortable
+reflection all the way home. The rain had ceased at last, but not before
+Edna had grown secretly conscious of the lateness of the hour. It was
+nearly seven before the weather allowed them to start, and for the last
+half hour she had stood at the window quite oblivious of Captain Grant&#8217;s
+entreaties that she would make herself comfortable, and evidently deaf
+to his unmeaning compliments for she answered absently, and with a
+manner that showed that she was ill at ease.</p>
+
+<p>The moment the rain ceased, she asked him peremptorily to order her
+pony-chaise round.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mamma will be getting anxious at this long delay,&#8221; she said, so gravely
+that Captain Grant dare not disobey her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will come over next Saturday and see our match with the Hussars,&#8221;
+he pleaded, as she gathered up the reins.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps; but I will not promise,&#8221; she returned, with a nod and a smile.
+&#8220;Oh, dear; how tiresome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> these last two hours have been. You have not
+enjoyed yourself a bit. Bessie. I am so sorry!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, never mind.&#8221; returned Bessie wearily, and then they had both been
+silent. Neither was in the mood to enjoy the delicious freshness of the
+evening; that clear shining after the rain that is so indescribable, the
+wet, gleaming hedges, the little sparkling pools, the vivid green of the
+meadows; for Edna was feeling the reaction after her excitement; and
+Bessie, tired out with conflicting feelings was thinking regretfully of
+her unsatisfactory conversation with Captain Broughton.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It serves me right, after all,&#8221; she thought penitently. &#8220;Father always
+says that we ought to take trouble to please even the most commonplace,
+uninteresting person, not to let ourselves be bored by anyone, however
+uncongenial they may be, and of course he is right. I was just fidgeting
+about the weather, and how we were to get home, and so I did not try to
+be entertaining.&#8221; And here Bessie made a mental resolution to be more
+charitable in her estimate of people.</p>
+
+<p>She had no idea that Captain Broughton had said to himself as he left
+her, &#8220;Nice little girl, no nonsense about her; not a bad sort, after the
+women one sees; can talk to a man without looking for a compliment; like
+her better than Miss Sefton.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>Just as the drive was drawing to a close, Bessie roused up from her
+unwonted depression. They had turned out of the narrow lane, and a wide
+sweep of country lay before them, bathed in the soft tints of the
+setting sun. A mass of golden and crimson clouds made the western
+heavens glorious, the meadows were transfigured in the yellow radiance,
+every hedgerow and bush seemed touched by an unearthly finger, a sense
+of distance, of mystery, of tranquil rest seemed to pervade the world.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Edna, how beautiful! If only one were an artist to try and paint
+that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; it is a fine evening,&#8221; remarked Edna carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank goodness, there is The Grange at last. Yes, there is Richard,
+evidently on the lookout for us. So I suppose they have finished
+dinner.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did you think we were lost?&#8221; she asked with a little air of defiance,
+as her brother came forward and patted the ponies.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; he said gravely; &#8220;I told my mother the rain must have detained
+you. It is a pity you went, Edna. Sinclair has been here two hours. He
+came down in the same train with mother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Neville here!&#8221; And Edna&#8217;s look changed, and she became rather pale.
+&#8220;What has brought him, Richard?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>Richard shrugged his shoulders, and replied that he had not the least
+idea. He supposed it was a whim. It was evident that Edna was not too
+well pleased at the news. A little hardness came into her face, and she
+walked into the house without taking any notice of Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>As Bessie stood hesitating for a moment in the hall, Richard followed
+her. He had not even looked at her, and poor Bessie felt sure that his
+manner expressed disapproval.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will you not go into the drawing-room, Miss Lambert?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no. Mr. Sinclair is there, is he not? I would rather go upstairs
+and take off my things. I am very tired.&#8221; And here Bessie faltered a
+little.</p>
+
+<p>But to her surprise Richard looked at her very kindly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course you are tired. You had that long ride; but Edna would not
+think of that. Take off your things quickly and come down to the
+dining-room. Dixon will have something ready for you. There is some
+coffee going into the drawing-room. You will like some?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, please,&#8221; returned Bessie, touched by this thoughtfulness for
+her comfort. After all, he could not be angry with her. Perhaps she
+would have time to explain, to ask his opinion, to talk out her
+perplexity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> How comfortable that would be! Bessie would not stay to
+change her dress, she only smoothed her hair, and ran down.</p>
+
+<p>Richard was waiting for her, and Dixon had just brought in the coffee.
+When he had gone out of the room she said eagerly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Mr. Sefton, I am so glad to be able to ask you a question. You were
+not vexed with me for going to Staplehurst with your sister?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Vexed!&#8221; returned Richard, in a tone that set her mind at rest in a
+moment. &#8220;You acted exactly as I expected you to act. When mother showed
+me your note I only said, &#8216;I never doubted for a moment what Miss
+Lambert would do; she would go, of course.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; I only hesitated for a moment; but, oh! what a miserable afternoon
+it has been!&#8221; And as she touched on the various incidents, including her
+<em>t&#234;te-&#224;-t&#234;te</em> with Captain Broughton, Richard listened with much
+sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I never dreamed for a moment that Edna would go after all, but it was
+just a piece of childish bravado. The foolish girl does not think of
+consequences. It is a most unfortunate thing that Sinclair should turn
+up at this moment; he is a little stiff on these subjects, and I am
+afraid that he is terribly annoyed.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did Mrs. Sefton tell him all about it?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My mother? No; she would have given worlds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> to hide it from him. Edna
+told him herself that she was going in her last letter. Oh, you don&#8217;t
+know Edna,&#8221; as Bessie looked extremely surprised at this; &#8220;her chief
+virtue is truthfulness. She will defy you to your face, and trample on
+all your prejudices, but she will never hide anything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And she actually told Mr. Sinclair?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes she did it to tease him, I believe, because his last letter did not
+please her. Sinclair has to put up with a good deal, I can tell you, but
+he wrote back in a great hurry, begging her not to carry out her plan.
+Sinclair told us both this evening that he could not have written a
+stronger letter. He told her that he had good reasons for wishing her to
+see as little as possible of Captain Grant. And when he came down just
+to give her a pleasant surprise, as he had a leisure evening, it was
+quite a shock to him to find his entreaties had been disregarded, and
+that she had actually gone after all. He is excessively hurt, and no
+wonder, to find Edna has so little respect for his wishes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was a grievous mistake,&#8221; returned Bessie sorrowfully. &#8220;I don&#8217;t
+believe Edna enjoyed herself one bit.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; it was just a freak of temper, and she chose to be self-willed
+about it. I hope she will show herself penitent to Sinclair; she can
+turn him around her little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> finger if she likes; but sometimes she
+prefers to quarrel with him. I really think Edna enjoys a regular flare
+up,&#8221; finished Richard, laughing. &#8220;She says a good quarrel clears the air
+like a thunder-storm; but I confess that I don&#8217;t agree with her.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.<br />
+<br />
+<small>&#8220;SHE WILL NOT COME.&#8221;</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Bessie</span> did not enter the drawing-room that evening; she felt that her
+presence would be decidedly <em>de trop</em> under the circumstances. She made
+the pretext of fatigue the reason for retiring to her room early, and
+Richard accepted the excuse as though he believed in it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I dare say you will be more comfortable,&#8221; he agreed. &#8220;My mother
+will be sure to come up and wish you good-night. Confess now, Miss
+Lambert, are you not wishing yourself at home this evening?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; of course not,&#8221; replied Bessie briskly. &#8220;Have you not promised me
+another ride to-morrow?&#8221; But all the same, as she went upstairs, she
+thought a talk with her mother and Hatty would have been very soothing.
+She was sitting by her window, thinking over things in general, when
+there was a tap at her door, and Mrs. Sefton entered.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Richard told me you were tired and had gone up to bed,&#8221; she said, more
+kindly than usual. &#8220;I am so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> sorry, my dear, that you have had such an
+uncomfortable afternoon. Edna has been very naughty&#8212;very naughty
+indeed; but Richard and I feel very grateful to you for accompanying
+her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I thought it was the right thing to do, Mrs. Sefton.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, of course; there was nothing else to be done; but it was a foolish
+freak on Edna&#8217;s part.&#8221; Mrs. Sefton spoke in a worried voice, and her
+face looked tired and harassed. Bessie said as much, and she replied:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; I am worried enough. I have had a fatiguing day in town, and
+then when Neville and I entered the house, expecting a welcome, there
+was Richard&#8217;s moody face and your note to greet us. And now, to make
+things worse, Edna chooses to be offended at Neville&#8217;s coming down in
+this way, and declares he meant to be a spy on her. She won&#8217;t say a
+civil word to him, and yet it is for him to be displeased; but I think
+he would waive all that if she would only own that she has acted
+ungenerously to him. I must say Neville is behaving beautifully. He
+speaks as gently as possible; but Edna is in one of her tempers, and she
+will not listen to reason.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am sorry,&#8221; replied Bessie, looking so full of sympathy that Mrs.
+Sefton relaxed from her usual cold dignity.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my dear,&#8221; she said, and now there were tears<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> in her eyes, &#8220;I am
+afraid it is all my fault. I have indulged Edna too much, and given her
+her own way in everything; and now she tyrannizes over us all. If I had
+only acted differently.&#8221; And here the poor woman sighed.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie echoed the sigh, but she could think of nothing to say that could
+comfort Mrs. Sefton; she was evidently reaping the effects of her own
+injudicious weakness. She had not taught her child to practice
+self-discipline and self-control. Her waywardness had been fostered by
+indulgence, and her temper had become more faulty. &#8220;What man is there of
+you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?&#8221; asked the
+Divine Teacher; and yet there are many parents who offer these stony
+gifts to their children, loading them with false kindness and
+indulgence, leaving evil weeds unchecked, and teaching them everything
+but the one thing needful.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, how different from mother!&#8221; thought Bessie, when she was left
+alone, and recalled the time when her young will had been over strong,
+and there had been difficult points in her character, and yet, how
+sensibly and how tenderly her mother had dealt with them.</p>
+
+<p>She had never been blind to one of her children&#8217;s faults, and up to a
+certain age it had been her habit on the eve of their birthdays, to talk
+quietly to them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> pointing out their failings and defective habits, and
+giving her opinion on the year&#8217;s improvement. &#8220;On a birthday one ought
+to begin afresh,&#8221; she would say, &#8220;and make a new start.&#8221; How well Bessie
+could remember these talks, and the gentle words of praise that
+generally closed them. She was almost sorry when she was too grown up
+for them, and quiet self-examinations took the place of those fond
+maternal admonitions.</p>
+
+<p>When Bessie joined the family at breakfast she found Mr. Sinclair
+helping Edna with the urn. He accosted Bessie with much friendliness,
+and seemed pleased to see her again. She had been prepossessed with him
+at their first meeting, and she thought his manner still pleasanter on
+this second occasion, and she was struck afresh with his air of quiet
+refinement. He took part in the conversation with much animation, and
+talked more to Richard than to any one else.</p>
+
+<p>Edna did not appear to have recovered herself; she took very little
+notice of anybody, and received her <em>fianc&#233;&#8217;s</em> attention rather
+ungraciously. Bessie thought she looked as though she had not slept
+well; her eyes had a heavy look in them, as though her head ached.
+Bessie had her ride directly afterward, and as Richard assisted her to
+mount, Mr. Sinclair stood on the steps and watched them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What are you and Edna going to do with yourselves?&#8221; asked Richard
+presently.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sinclair smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I shall do whatever Edna likes; perhaps she will drive me somewhere;
+she looks as though the fresh air would do her good. I shall have to go
+back to town this evening, so I must make the most of my day in the
+country.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The house was so still when they returned that Bessie thought they had
+started for the drive, when she ran upstairs to take off her habit. She
+seated herself presently by one of the drawing-room windows with her
+work, wondering what everyone was doing.</p>
+
+<p>Her work interested her, and she was quietly enjoying herself when she
+heard quick footsteps in the hall outside, and a moment afterward a door
+slammed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They have come back, I suppose,&#8221; thought Bessie; and she worked on,
+until the drawing-room door opened and Mr. Sinclair came in alone. He
+seemed surprised to see Bessie, but the next minute he had crossed the
+room hastily.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Miss Lambert, will you do me a favor? I cannot find Mrs. Sefton, and I
+have no one else to ask.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Certainly,&#8221; returned Bessie, and she rose at once.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sinclair looked pale and troubled, and his manner was extremely
+nervous.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then will you be so good as to beg Edna to come down to me for a
+moment; she has misunderstood&#8212;that is, I wish to speak to her&#8212;there is
+a slight misconception. Edna has gone to her own room.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>&#8220;I will go at once,&#8221; exclaimed Bessie, feeling convinced by his manner
+that something was very wrong. Edna must have quarrelled with him again.
+She ran upstairs and knocked on Edna&#8217;s door, but received no answer; it
+was not locked, however, and after a moment&#8217;s hesitation she entered.</p>
+
+<p>Edna had evidently not heard her; she was standing by the window in her
+walking-dress. As Bessie spoke to attract her attention, she turned
+round and frowned angrily; something in her face made Bessie breathless
+with apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What do you want?&#8221; she asked harshly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Sinclair sent me,&#8221; pleaded Bessie; &#8220;he is very anxious to speak to
+you; he begs that you will come downstairs. He thinks that there is some
+mistake.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, there is no mistake,&#8221; replied Edna slowly; &#8220;you may tell him so for
+me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why not tell him yourself, Edna?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Because I have had enough of Mr. Sinclair&#8217;s company this morning.
+Because nothing would induce me to speak to him again. I thought I had
+locked my door to prevent intrusion; but I suppose I forgot. Please give
+him my message that there is no mistake&#8212;oh, none at all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie hesitated, but another look at Edna&#8217;s face showed her that any
+entreaty at this moment would be in vain, so she went out of the room
+without another word.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sinclair was standing just where she had left him; he looked at her
+anxiously. Bessie shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She will not come,&#8221; she said sorrowfully.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will not? Did she give no reason&#8212;send no message?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Only that there was no mistake; she repeated that more than once.
+Perhaps she will change her mind in a little while.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Sinclair did not seem to hear her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No mistake! Then she meant it&#8212;she meant it!&#8221; he muttered, and his face
+became quite changed. He had walked to the window, but he came back
+again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Miss Lambert. I am very much obliged to you,&#8221; he said, as
+though feeling he had been deficient in politeness; but before she could
+reply he had left the room.</p>
+
+<p>The gong sounded for luncheon directly afterward, but Bessie found the
+dining-room empty, so she sat down to her work again, and bye and bye
+Dixon brought her a message that his mistress was waiting. Mrs. Sefton
+was in the room alone; she motioned Bessie to a seat, and began to carve
+the chicken before her. No one else made their appearance; but Mrs.
+Sefton did not apologize for their absence. She scarcely eat anything
+herself, and made no attempt to sustain the conversation. She looked
+preoccupied and troubled, and as soon as the meal was over she begged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
+Bessie to amuse herself, as she had some important business to settle,
+and left the room.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie passed a solitary afternoon; but though her book was interesting
+her attention often wandered. She was sure something was seriously
+wrong, and she felt vaguely unhappy on Edna&#8217;s account. She could not
+forget Mr. Sinclair&#8217;s face when she had brought him that message. It was
+as though he had received a blow that he scarcely knew how to bear.</p>
+
+<p>Dixon brought her some tea, and told her that his mistress and Miss Edna
+were having theirs in the dressing-room. Later on, as she went indoors
+to prepare for dinner, she encountered Richard; he had just driven up to
+the door in his dog-cart, and Brand and Gelert were with him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where is Mr. Sinclair?&#8221; she ventured to ask, as he smiled at seeing
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He has gone,&#8221; he replied. &#8220;I have just driven him to the station. Do
+you know where my mother is to be found?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have not seen her since luncheon,&#8221; answered Bessie. &#8220;I think she is
+with Edna.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very likely. I will go and see.&#8221; And Richard sprung up the staircase
+three steps at a time. Bessie thought he looked tired and worried, too;
+and to add to the general oppression, a storm seemed gathering, for the
+air felt unusually still and sultry.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>Edna did not join them at dinner, and the meal was hardly more festive
+than the luncheon had been. Mrs. Sefton hardly opened her lips, and
+Richard only made a few general remarks.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie expected that her evening would be as solitary as her afternoon,
+but, rather to her surprise, Mrs. Sefton beckoned her to sit down beside
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear,&#8221; she said, &#8220;you are feeling very uncomfortable, I can see, and
+you do not like to ask questions; you think something is the matter, and
+you are right. Edna is making us all very unhappy. She has quarrelled
+with Neville, and has broken off her engagement with him, and nothing
+that Richard or I can say to her will induce her to listen to reason.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Mrs. Sefton, how dreadful!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, is it not heart-breaking? Poor Neville! and he is so devoted to
+her. They were to have been married next spring, but now Edna declares
+that nothing would induce her to marry him. She will have it that he is
+jealous and monopolizing, and that he distrusts her. Over and over again
+she told us both that she would be the slave of no man&#8217;s caprice. Of
+course it is all her temper; she is just mad with him because he is
+always in the right, and she knows how ungenerously she has acted; but
+bye and bye she will repent, and break her heart, for she is certainly
+fond of him, and then it will be too late.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>&#8220;And she has really sent him away?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; she told him to go, that she never wanted to see him again; and he
+has gone, poor fellow! Richard drove him to the station. He says he
+never saw a man so terribly cut up, but he told Richard, just at the
+last, that perhaps it might prove the best for them in the end, that
+they were not suited to each other, and never had been, but that Edna
+had never shown him her temper quite so plainly before.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Mrs. Sefton, how terrible it all seems! Can nothing be done?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing,&#8221; in a voice of despair. &#8220;Richard and I have talked to her for
+hours, but it is no use. She declares that it is a good thing she and
+Neville at last understand each other, that she will never repent her
+decision, and yet all the time she looks utterly wretched. But she will
+not own it; it is just her pride and her temper,&#8221; finished the unhappy
+mother, &#8220;and I must stand by and see her sacrifice her own happiness,
+and say nothing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I go up to her, Mrs. Sefton? Do you think she would care to see
+me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think she will see you now, and it is not good for her to be alone;
+but you will find her very hard and impracticable.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I shall not mind that, if she will only let me be with her a little;
+but I cannot bear to think of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> shut up with only miserable thoughts
+to keep her company;&#8221; and here Bessie&#8217;s eyes filled with tears, for she
+was very sympathetic and soft-hearted.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then go to her, my dear, and I hope you may do her some good.&#8221; And
+Bessie went at once.</p>
+
+<p>Just outside the door she met Richard; he was on his way to the
+drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am going up to Edna,&#8221; she said, as he looked at her inquiringly. &#8220;Oh,
+Mr. Sefton, I am so sorry for her! She is making herself and every one
+else miserable.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am more sorry for Sinclair,&#8221; he returned, and his face looked very
+stern as he spoke. &#8220;She has treated him abominably. Wait a moment, Miss
+Lambert,&#8221; as she seemed about to leave him; &#8220;there is no hurry, is
+there? and I have not spoken to you to-day. Do you think you are wise to
+mix yourself up in this? My mother is thinking more of Edna than of you,
+but you will do no good, and only make yourself miserable. Leave Edna
+alone to-night, and come and play to me instead.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Sefton, I never thought you could be so selfish.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He laughed outright as Bessie said this very seriously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Never trust any man; we are all of us selfish. But to tell you the
+truth, I was not thinking of my own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> enjoyment at that minute. I wanted
+to save you an hour&#8217;s unpleasantness, but I see you prefer to make
+yourself miserable.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I do in the present instance,&#8221; returned Bessie quietly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well, have your own way; but if you take my advice, you will not
+waste your pity upon Edna. She is flinging away her happiness with her
+eyes open, just to gratify her temper. You see I can speak plainly, Miss
+Lambert, and call things by their right names. Just out of pride and
+self-will, she is bidding good-bye to one of the best fellows living,
+and all the time she knows that he is a good fellow. She won&#8217;t find
+another Neville Sinclair, I tell her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; and it is just because she is doing it herself that I am sorry for
+her,&#8221; replied Bessie. &#8220;Please don&#8217;t keep me, Mr. Sefton; you do not
+understand&#8212;how can you? If he had died, if anything else had separated
+them, it would be so much easier to bear, but to do it herself, and then
+to be so sorry for it afterward&#8212;oh, how miserable that must be!&#8221; and
+Bessie&#8217;s voice became a little unsteady as she hastily bade him good
+night.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.<br />
+<br />
+<small>A NOTE FROM HATTY.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Bessie</span> knew that she would find Edna in her mother&#8217;s dressing room&#8212;a
+large, comfortable room, much used by both mother and daughter when they
+were tired or indisposed. Mrs. Sefton generally used it as a
+morning-room, and it was fitted up somewhat luxuriously.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie found Edna lying on a couch in her white tea-gown, with a novel
+in her hand. The pink shade of the lamp threw a rosy glow over
+everything, and at first sight Bessie thought she looked much as usual;
+her first words, too, were said in her ordinary tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So you have found your way up at last,&#8221; she exclaimed, throwing down
+her book with an air of disgust and weariness; &#8220;my head ached this
+afternoon, and so mamma thought I had better stay here quietly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is your head better now?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, thanks; only this book is so stupid. I think novels are stupid
+nowadays; the heroes are so gaudy, and the <a name="heroines" id="heroines"></a><ins title="original has heorines">heroines</ins> have
+not a spark of spirit. You may talk to me instead, if you like. What
+have you been doing with yourself all day?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>Bessie was dumb with amazement. Was this pride or was Edna acting a
+part, and pretending not to care? She could break her lover&#8217;s heart one
+minute and talk of novels the next. Bessie&#8217;s simplicity was at fault;
+she could make nothing of this.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why are you looking at me in that way?&#8221; asked Edna fretfully, on
+receiving no answer; and as she raised herself on the cushions, Bessie
+could see her face more plainly. It looked very pale, and her eyes were
+painfully bright, and then she gave a hard little laugh that had no
+mirth in it. &#8220;So mamma or Richard has been talking to you! What a
+transparent little creature you are, Bessie! You are dreadfully shocked,
+are you not, that I have sent Neville about his business?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Edna, please don&#8217;t talk about it in that way.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If I talk about it at all it must be in my own way. If Neville thought
+I could not live without him, he finds himself mistaken now. I am not
+the sort of girl who could put up with tyranny; other people may submit
+to be ordered about and treated like a child, but I am not one of them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna, surely you consider that you owe a duty to the man you have
+promised to marry.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I owe him none&#8212;I will never owe him any duty.&#8221; And here Edna&#8217;s manner
+became excited. &#8220;It is mamma I ought to obey, and I will not always
+yield to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> her; but I have never given Neville the right to lecture and
+control me; no man shall&#8212;no man!&#8221; angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna, how can you bear to part with Mr. Sinclair, when he is so good
+and loves you so much?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can bear it very well. I can do without him,&#8221; she replied
+obstinately; &#8220;at least I have regained my liberty, and become my own
+mistress.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will that console you for making him miserable? Oh, Edna, if you had
+only seen his face when I gave him your message, I am sure you must have
+relented. He has gone away unhappy, and you let him go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I let him go. How dare he come down here to spy on my movements?
+Captain Grant, indeed! But it is all of a piece; his jealously is
+unbearable. I will no longer put up with it. Why do you talk about it,
+Bessie? You do not know Mr. Neville&#8212;Mr. Sinclair, I mean. He is a
+stranger to you; he has given me plenty to bear during our engagement.
+He has a difficult nature,it does not suit mine; I must be treated
+wholly or not at all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will you not let your mother explain this to him and send for him to
+come back?&#8221; But Edna drew herself up so haughtily that Bessie did not
+proceed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will never call him back, if I wanted him ever so; but I am not
+likely to want him, he has made me too miserable. No one shall speak to
+him; it is my affair, and no one has any right to meddle. Mamma<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> takes
+his part, and Richard, too. Every one is against me, but they cannot
+influence me,&#8221; finished Edna proudly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Sefton was right; I can do no good,&#8221; thought Bessie sorrowfully;
+&#8220;it seems as though some demon of pride has taken possession of the
+girl. Mr. Sinclair is nothing to her to-night; she is only conscious of
+her own proud, injured feelings.&#8221; And Bessie showed her wisdom by
+ceasing to argue the point; she let Edna talk on without checking her,
+until she had exhausted herself, and then she rose and bade her good
+night.</p>
+
+<p>Edna seemed taken aback.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are going to leave me, Bessie?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, it is very late; and your mother will be coming up directly. I can
+do you no good; no one could to-night. I shall go and pray for you
+instead.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will pray for me! May I ask why?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will not even tell you that to-night; it would be no use, the evil
+spirits will not let you listen, Edna; they have stopped your ears too;
+to-night you are in their power, you have placed yourself at their
+mercy; no one can help you except One, and you will not even ask Him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are very incomprehensible, Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I dare say I seem so, but perhaps one day you may understand
+better. You want us not to think you unhappy, and you are utterly
+miserable. I never could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> pretend things, even when I was a child. I
+must say everything out. I think you are unhappy now, and that you will
+be more unhappy to-morrow; and when you begin to realize your
+unhappiness, you will begin to look for a remedy. Good-night, dear Edna.
+Don&#8217;t be angry at my plain speaking, for I really want to do you good.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna made no answer, and yielded her cheek coldly to Bessie&#8217;s kiss. If
+something wet touched her face she took no apparent notice, but Bessie
+could not restrain her tears as she left the room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, why, why were people so mad and wicked? How could any one calling
+herself by the sacred name of Christian suffer herself to be
+overmastered by these bitter and angry passions? It is just temper; Mrs.
+Sefton is right,&#8221; thought Bessie; and her mind was so oppressed by the
+thought of Edna&#8217;s wretchedness that it was long before she could compose
+herself to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>But she rose at her usual early hour, and wrote out of the fullness of
+her heart to her mother, not mentioning any facts, but relieving her
+overwrought feelings by loving words that were very sweet to her mother.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think it is good to go away sometimes from one&#8217;s belongings,&#8221; wrote
+Bessie; &#8220;absence makes one realize one&#8217;s blessings more. I don&#8217;t think I
+ever felt more thankful that I had such a mother than last night, when
+Edna was talking in a way that troubled me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>When Bessie went downstairs after finishing her letter, she was much
+surprised to see Edna in her usual place pouring out the coffee. She
+looked a little pale and heavy-eyed; but no one could have detected from
+her manner that there was anything much amiss. A slight restlessness,
+however, an eagerness for occupation and amusement, and a shade of
+impatience when any one opposed her, spoke of inward irritability. Now
+and then, too, there was a sharpness in her voice that betrayed nervous
+tension; but none dared to express sympathy by look or word. Once when
+she announced her intention of joining Bessie and Richard in their ride,
+and her mother asked her if she were not too tired, she turned on her
+almost fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I tired, mamma! What an absurd idea; as though riding ever tired me! I
+am not an old woman yet. Bessie,&#8221; turning to her, &#8220;the Athertons are
+coming this afternoon, and I have written to the Powers to join them. We
+must have a good practice, because we have to go to the Badderleys&#8217;
+to-morrow, and Major Sullivan will be my partner; he is our best player,
+and we have Captain Grant and Mrs. Matchett against us.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was so in everything. Edna seemed bent all that day on tiring herself
+out. She rode at a pace that morning that left the others far behind,
+but Richard took no notice; he continued his conversation with Bessie,
+and left Edna to her own devices.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In the afternoon she played tennis in the same reckless fashion; once
+Bessie saw her turn very pale, and put her hand to her side, but the
+next minute she was playing again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What spirits Edna is in!&#8221; Florence said once. &#8220;Really I do not know
+what we shall all do next spring when she gets married, for she is the
+life and soul of everything;&#8221; for none of the girls had noticed that the
+diamond ring was missing on Edna&#8217;s finger; some brilliant emerald and
+ruby rings had replaced it.</p>
+
+<p>Edna continued in this unsatisfactory state for weeks and not once did
+she open her lips, even to her mother, on the subject of her broken
+engagement. Every morning she made her plans for the day. It seemed to
+Bessie as though air and movement were absolutely necessary to her. When
+the morning ride was over she would arrange to drive her mother or
+Bessie to some given place, and the intervening hours were always spent
+in tennis or archery. When the evening came she would often lie on the
+drawing-room couch in a state of exhaustion, until she compelled herself
+to some exertion.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, how stupid every one is!&#8221; she would say, jumping up in a quick,
+restless manner. &#8220;Ritchie, why don&#8217;t you think of something amusing to
+do? Bessie, I hate those dreamy old ballads; do come and play some game.
+Mamma,&#8221; she exclaimed, one evening,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> &#8220;we must have a regular picnic for
+Bessie; she has never been at a large one in her life. We will go to
+Ardley, and Florence shall take her violin, and Dr. Merton his cornet,
+and we will have a dance on the turf; it will be delightful.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Well, to please her, they talked of the picnic, and Richard
+good-naturedly promised to hire a wagonette for the occasion, but she
+had forgotten all about it the next day, and there was to be an archery
+meeting in the long meadow instead.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bessie, she is killing herself,&#8221; exclaimed Mrs. Sefton, for in those
+days she found Bessie a great comfort. &#8220;Do you see how thin she is
+getting? And she eats next to nothing; she is losing her strength, and
+all that exercise is too much for her. The weather is too hot for those
+morning rides. I must speak to Richard.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She does not really enjoy them,&#8221; replied Bessie; &#8220;but I think she feels
+better when she is in the air, and then it is something to do. Mrs.
+Sefton, I want to speak to you about something else. I have been here
+nearly a month, and it is time for me to go home.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are not thinking of leaving us,&#8221; interrupted Mrs. Sefton, in
+genuine alarm. &#8220;I cannot spare you, Bessie; I must write to your father.
+What would Edna do without you? My dear, I cannot let you go.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hatty is not well,&#8221; observed Bessie <a name="anxiously" id="anxiously"></a><ins title="original has no visible fullstop">anxiously.</ins> &#8220;She always flags in
+the warm weather. I don&#8217;t believe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> Cliffe really suits her; but father
+never likes to send her away. Christine wrote to me yesterday, and she
+said Hatty had had one of her old fainting fits, and had been very weak
+ever since. I cannot be happy in leaving her any longer, though they say
+nothing about my coming home.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But she has your mother and Christine. You are not really wanted,&#8221;
+urged Mrs. Sefton rather selfishly, for she was thinking of her own and
+Edna&#8217;s loss, and not of Bessie&#8217;s anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hatty always wants me,&#8221; returned Bessie firmly. &#8220;I think I am more to
+her than any one else, except mother. I have written to father this
+morning to ask what I had better do. I told him that I had had a long
+holiday, and that I was ready to come home at once if Hatty wanted me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, very well, if you have made your plans,&#8221; returned Mrs. Sefton, in
+rather a chilling manner; but Bessie would not let her proceed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dear Mrs. Sefton,&#8221; she said, much distressed at her obvious
+displeasure, &#8220;you must not think that I leave you willingly. I have been
+so happy here; it has been such a real holiday that I am afraid I am not
+a bit anxious to go home, but if father thinks it is my duty&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your father is a sensible man. I don&#8217;t believe he will recall you,
+anyhow. I will write to him myself,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> and tell him how anxious we are to
+keep you. That will do no harm, eh, Bessie?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; hesitated the girl; &#8220;I dare say he will only think you are all too
+kind to me.&#8221; She did not like to offend her hostess by begging her not
+to write. Her father knew her well enough; he would not misunderstand
+her. He knew her love for Hatty would never let pleasure stand in the
+way if she required her. &#8220;All the enjoyments in the world would not keep
+me from Hatty if she really needed me, and father knows that; we are
+both quite safe with him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was perfectly comfortable in her own mind; she was sure of her
+own motives, and she had implicit faith in her father; but she would not
+have been quite so easy if she had known that Mrs. Sefton intended to
+send a little note to Hatty as well. It was only a kindly worded note,
+full of sympathy for Hatty&#8217;s little ailments, such as any friendly
+stranger might write; but the closing sentence was terribly damaging to
+Bessie&#8217;s plans.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8220;Please do not let your father recall Bessie unless it be absolutely
+necessary. We are all so fond of her, and my poor girl, who is in sad
+trouble just now, is dependent on her for companionship. Bessie is so
+happy, too, that it would be cruel to take her away. She is becoming a
+first-rate horsewoman under my son&#8217;s tuition, and is very much liked by
+all our friends; indeed, every one makes much of her. If you can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> spare
+her a little longer, I shall be truly grateful, my dear Miss Lambert,
+for my poor child&#8217;s sake.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>And then followed a few kindly expressions of goodwill and sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was rather surprised to receive a letter from Christine the
+following morning, with a little penciled note from Hatty inside.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Father was too busy to write,&#8221; Christine said. &#8220;He had a very anxious
+case on hand, but he hoped Hatty was rather better that day, and he
+thought they could do without Bessie a little longer, as her friends
+seemed to need her so much. He was sorry to hear Miss Sefton had broken
+off her engagement; it was a very serious thing for any young lady to
+do, and he hoped none of his girls would act so dishonorably to any
+man.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Hatty&#8217;s note was short and much underlined.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8220;<span class="smcap">Darling Bessie</span>: You are not to come home on my account. Chrissy is very
+nice, and does everything for me, and I won&#8217;t have your pleasure
+spoiled, and Miss Sefton&#8217;s too, poor thing, just because I was stupid
+enough to faint. It is only the hot weather&#8212;oh, it is so hot and
+glaring here! Chrissy and I cannot imagine how you can ride and play
+tennis in such heat; but perhaps it is cooler in the country. Now,
+remember, I mean what I say, and that I don&#8217;t want you one bit. At least
+that is a fib in one way, because I always want my Betty; but I am quite
+happy to think you are enjoying yourself, and cheering up that poor
+girl&#8212;she must be very miserable. Write to me soon again. I do love your
+letters. I always keep them under my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> pillow and read them in the
+morning. Good-bye, darling; you are my own Betty, you know.</p>
+
+<p class="r1">&#8220;Your loving little</p>
+<p class="r2">&#8220;<span class="smcap">Hatty</span>.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose I must stop a week or ten days longer,&#8221; thought Bessie,
+laying down her letters with rather a dissatisfied feeling. &#8220;I wish
+father could have written, himself, but I dare say he will in a day or
+two. I will try not to fidget. I will wait a little, and then write to
+mother and tell her how I feel about things. When she understands how
+difficult it is for me to get away without giving offense, she will be
+sure to help me, and six weeks are enough to satisfy Mrs. Sefton.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie spoke of her letters at luncheon-time. Edna heard her with
+languid attention, but Mrs. Sefton was triumphant.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I knew they could spare you, Bessie,&#8221; she said, with a look of
+amusement that made Bessie feel a little small.</p>
+
+<p>Richard glanced at her without speaking, and then busied himself in his
+carving. But that evening, as Bessie was pausing in the hall to look out
+at the dark clouds that were scurrying across the sky, she found Richard
+at her elbow.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There is going to be a storm,&#8221; he said quietly. &#8220;I have been expecting
+it all day. Edna is always nervous; she hates the thunder. What was that
+my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> mother was saying at luncheon, Miss Lambert? Surely you do not
+intend leaving us?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not just yet&#8212;not for another week,&#8221; returned Bessie, much surprised by
+the gravity of his manner. &#8220;They will want me at home after that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They will not want you as much as some of us do here,&#8221; he returned,
+with much feeling. &#8220;Miss Lambert, do not go unless you are obliged. My
+sister needs you, and so&#8212;&#8221; He broke off abruptly, colored, and finally
+wished her good-night.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wonder why he did not finish his sentence?&#8221; thought Bessie
+innocently, as she went up to her room.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.<br />
+<br />
+<small>&#8220;TROUBLE MAY COME TO ME ONE DAY.&#8221;</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Bessie</span> had hardly fallen asleep before the storm broke. A peal of
+thunder crashing over the house woke her; the next minute a flash of
+lightning seemed to fill her room with white light.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a <a name="terrific" id="terrific"></a><ins title="original has terriffic">terrific</ins> clap! It must have woke Edna,&#8221; she
+thought; and just as she was summoning up resolution to cross the dark
+passage in search of her, there was a hasty tap at the door, and Edna
+entered, fully dressed, and with a candle in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna! what does this mean? You have not been to bed at all?&#8221; exclaimed
+Bessie, regarding her friend with dismay. Edna&#8217;s pale, disordered looks
+excited her alarm.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; she returned, in a tone of forced composure, as she put down the
+candle with a shaking hand; &#8220;I was too nervous to sleep. I knew the
+storm was coming, and I sat up and waited for it; but I could not stop
+by myself any longer. Did I wake you, Bessie?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The thunder woke me, and I thought of you. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> am not a bit frightened;
+but one cannot sleep in such a noise. Hark at the rain; a perfect
+deluge! Come and lie down beside me, Edna, dear. You look quite wan and
+exhausted.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have been thinking myself stupid, but I am still too restless to lie
+down. I feel as though I never want to sleep again, and yet I am so
+tired. Ah, you don&#8217;t know the feeling! One seems on wires, and all sorts
+of horrid, troublesome thoughts keep surging through one&#8217;s brain, and
+there seems no rest, no peace anywhere.&#8221; And she shivered, and hid her
+face on the pillow as another peal broke over the house.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie did not speak for a minute, and then she said very tenderly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna, dear, I know all about it. I am quite sure that you are
+miserable; I have known it all the time. Pride does not help you a bit
+now; in your heart you are sorrowful and repentant. You would give all
+you have in the world to bring him back again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But Edna silenced her. &#8220;Don&#8217;t, Bessie, you are torturing me. I cannot
+bear sympathy; it seems to madden me somehow. I want people to think I
+don&#8217;t care&#8212;that it is all nothing to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah, but you do care, Edna.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know I do,&#8221; in a despairing voice. &#8220;I will own, if you like,
+that I am very miserable, but you must not take advantage of me. I am
+weak to-night,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> and I seem to have no strength to brave it out. Don&#8217;t be
+hard upon me, Bessie; you have never been in trouble yourself. You
+cannot put yourself in my place.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A great pity rose in Bessie&#8217;s heart as she listened to Edna&#8217;s sad voice.
+&#8220;No,&#8221; she said gently, &#8220;I have never known real trouble, thank God,
+except when Frank died. Mine has been a very happy life; but trouble may
+come to me one day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but not through your own fault,&#8221; replied Edna, in the same dreary
+hopeless voice. &#8220;There is no trouble so hard to bear as that. To think
+that I might have been so happy, and that my own temper has spoiled it
+all. Let me tell you all about it, Bessie; it will be a relief, even
+though you cannot help me, for to-night the misery is more than I can
+bear.&#8221; And here she hid her face in her hands, and gave vent to a few
+choking sobs.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie only answered by a quiet caress or two, and after a few moments
+Edna recovered herself.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was unreasonably angry with Neville that day, but I never guessed
+that my passion would overmaster me to that extent. Oh, Bessie! why, why
+was I never taught to control my temper? Why was my mother so cruelly
+kind to me? If I had been brought up differently&#8212;but no, I will only
+reproach myself. If Neville had been more masterful&#8212;if he had shown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>
+more spirit; but there again I am ungenerous, for nothing could exceed
+his gentleness; but it only exasperated me. I was bent on quarrelling
+with him, and I fully succeeded; and I worked myself up to such a pitch
+that I almost hated the sight of him. I wanted to be free&#8212;I would be
+free; and I told him so. I was still in the same mind when you brought
+me that message, but, all the same, something seemed to whisper to me
+that I should live to repent that day&#8217;s work; but I would not listen to
+this inward prompting&#8212;I would be firm. Bessie, I verily believe some
+evil spirit dominated me&#8212;I felt so cold, so inexorable, so determined
+on my own undoing. For one moment I quailed, and that was when I saw
+Neville drive away from the house. I saw his face, and it looked so pale
+and sad. Something within me said, &#8216;Call him back, and he will come even
+now;&#8217; but I was too proud to give the sign. I wanted to do it, but my
+demon would not suffer me, and in a moment he was gone. Oh, Bessie, how
+I suffered that night and the night after! But my pride was strong. I
+would not let people see how unhappy I was. But I want him back now.
+There is no one in the world like Neville&#8212;so gentle, and brave, and
+good; but I have lost him, and I deserve to lose him, for I was never
+worthy of his love.&#8221; And here Edna broke into bitter weeping, and for a
+little while there was no comforting her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, how selfish I am!&#8221; she exclaimed at last, starting up. &#8220;I have only
+made you miserable; and, after all, no one can do me any good. Don&#8217;t
+look at me so reproachfully, Bessie; you are very dear and good to me,
+but you cannot put yourself in my place.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are wrong,&#8221; returned Bessie quickly. &#8220;Though I have never been
+through your experiences, I can still sympathize with you. If I were in
+your position, Edna, I would not speak as you are doing now, as though
+there were no hope for you, as though everything were only black and
+miserable. The Lord Jesus is always able and willing to help all who
+penitently and trustfully look to Him for pardon. There are no depths of
+human suffering deep enough to hide us from His tender sympathy and
+forgiving love.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, but I am not religious, Bessie. I am not good, like you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Please don&#8217;t talk so, Edna; it only pains me to hear you. Let me tell
+you how I think I should try to feel in your place. I would try to bear
+my trouble bravely, knowing that it had come through my own fault. If we
+do wrong, we must surely take our punishment. Oh, I know it is easy to
+talk, but all the same this is how I would strive to carry my burden.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah, but such a burden would crush any girl.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You must not let it crush you, Edna. You must not let it lead you to
+despair. However heavy the burden,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> and however much we deserve the
+suffering which our follies and mistakes and sins bring, there is one
+all-sufficient way of deliverance. Jesus, by His death on the cross, has
+made it possible for us to be freely forgiven; and if we come to Him in
+faith and prayer, the Holy Spirit will lead us into the full experience
+of salvation and peace. Your will is very strong; why do you not will
+this one thing&#8212;to become worthy of the love of a true man like Mr.
+Sinclair? I do not say that things will be the same between you; I know
+too little about the world to guess how a man acts under such
+circumstances; but if you care for him really&#8212;if indeed he stands so
+high in your estimation as a good man whom you have misunderstood and
+wronged, then, even if you lead your lives apart, you may still try to
+live nobly that he may think of you with respect. You may still let the
+influence of this trial guide you to a higher and better life. Would not
+this make things more bearable?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie&#8217;s words, spoken with intense earnestness, seemed to stir Edna&#8217;s
+mind, rousing it from its bitter apathy of hopeless remorse and grief; a
+faint light came into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think I could grow better&#8212;that Neville would ever hear of me?
+Oh, I should like to try. I do so hate myself, Bessie. I seem to grow
+more selfish and horrid every year. I thought Neville would help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> me to
+be good, but without him&#8212;&#8212;&#8221; And here the tears came again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Without him it will be doubly hard. Yes, I know that, Edna dear; but
+you must lean on a stronger arm than his&#8212;an arm that will never fail
+you. Cast all your burden upon the loving sympathy and tender heart of
+the Lord Jesus, and He will lead and comfort you. Now you are utterly
+exhausted, and the storm is quite lulled; do go back to your room; you
+will be able to sleep, and it is nearly three o&#8217;clock.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And I have kept you awake all this time,&#8221; remorsefully. &#8220;Well, I will
+go; the pain is a little easier to bear now. I will think over your
+words; they seem to have a sort of comfort in them. Yes, I deserve to be
+unhappy for making Neville so wretched. Good-bye, dear Bessie; you are a
+real friend to me, for you tell me nothing but the truth.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie kissed her affectionately, and then Edna left the room; but
+Bessie found it difficult to resume her interrupted dreams; the splash
+of the raindrops against her windows had a depressing sound, the
+darkness was dense and oppressive, a vague sadness seemed to brood over
+everything, and it was long before she could quiet herself enough to
+sleep. Strangely enough, her last waking thoughts were of Hatty, not of
+Edna, and she was dreaming about her when the maid came to wake her in
+the morning.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>Edna did not come down to breakfast; the storm had disturbed her, Mrs.
+Sefton said. &#8220;I think it must have kept you awake, too,&#8221; she observed,
+with a glance at Bessie&#8217;s tired face.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie smiled and said a word or two about the wild night, but she did
+not speak of Edna&#8217;s visit to her room. Afterward she went up to prepare
+for her ride, but during the next hour Richard noticed she was not in
+her usual spirits, and questioned her kindly as to the cause of her
+depression. Bessie made some trifling excuse; she had slept badly, and
+her head ached; but in reality she could find no reason for her vague
+discomfort.</p>
+
+<p>The morning was fresh and lovely, and bore no signs of last night&#8217;s
+storm. Whitefoot was in frisky spirits, but she found herself looking at
+everything with melancholy eyes, as though she were looking her last at
+the pleasant prospect. In vain she strove to shake off the uncanny
+feeling, and to answer Richard&#8217;s remarks in her usual sprightly fashion.
+The very effort to speak brought the tears to her eyes, and she had the
+vexed feeling that Richard saw them and thought something was amiss, for
+he told her very kindly to be sure and rest herself that afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Edna was in the front garden when they returned; she was standing at the
+gate evidently watching for them. Bessie thought she looked very pale.
+As Richard lifted her down Edna opened the gate.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>&#8220;You have had a longer ride than usual, have you not, Richard? Bessie
+looks very tired. Will you take off your habit, or will you go into the
+drawing-room? Your brother has just arrived, Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My brother? Do you mean Tom? Oh, what does he want with me? Hatty must
+be worse.&#8221; And here Bessie&#8217;s numb, unaccountable feelings quickened into
+life. &#8220;Oh, Edna, speak&#8212;what is it?&#8221; And then Bessie grew pale with
+apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hatty is not very well,&#8221; replied Edna gently; &#8220;but Mr. Tom will tell
+you himself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, go to him,&#8221; whispered Richard; &#8220;your brother will be your best
+informant; don&#8217;t wait to ask Edna.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And Bessie needed no further bidding. Oh, she knew now what that vague
+presentiment meant! That was her last ride&#8212;her last everything, she
+told herself, as she hurried into the house. Of course, Hatty was ill,
+very ill&#8212;dying perhaps&#8212;she always knew she would die. Tom&#8217;s boyish
+face looked unusually grave as he caught sight of Bessie. She walked up
+to him and grasped his arm.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What is it, Tom?&#8221; she said almost clinging to him.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Tom was hardly equal to the occasion. He was young, and hated
+scenes, and Mrs. Sefton was looking at them both, and he felt uncommonly
+choky himself; but Edna, who had followed Bessie, said promptly:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be afraid of telling Bessie, Mr. Lambert; she knows that Hatty is
+not so well. You have come to fetch her&#8212;have you not?&#8212;because Hatty
+had another bad fainting fit, and your father thinks her very ill.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is about it,&#8221; blurted out Tom. &#8220;Can you get ready and come back
+with me, Bessie? Hatty asked for you last night for the first time, and
+then father said I had better come and fetch you; so I took the last
+train to London, and slept at Uncle George&#8217;s, and came on this morning.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And Hatty is very ill?&#8221; asked Bessie, with a sort of desperate calmness
+that appeared very ominous to Tom, for he answered nervously:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, she is pretty bad. Father says it is a sudden failure. It is her
+heart; and he says he always expected it. He never did think well of
+Hatty, only he would not tell us so&#8212;what was the use? he said. But now
+these fainting attacks have made him anxious, for he says one can never
+tell what may happen; and then he said you must be fetched at once.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose we can start by the next train, Tom?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, by the 3:15; there is none before that. We must catch the 6:05
+from Paddington, so you will have time to look about you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Let me help you,&#8221; exclaimed Edna eagerly. &#8220;Mamma, will you send Brandon
+to us?&#8221; And she followed Bessie.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>Richard came into the room that moment, and took possession of Tom,
+carrying him off to the garden and stable-yard, and trying to make the
+time pass in a less irksome manner. Richard could show his sympathy for
+Bessie in no other way than this, and he felt sorry for Tom, who was
+feeling awkward among so many strangers, and was trying to repress his
+feelings, after the fashion of young men.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am afraid your sister is very much cut up about this,&#8221; observed
+Richard presently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, she will take it uncommonly badly; she and Hatty are such
+chums.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but I trust that your sister is not dangerously ill?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, she does not seem so to me,&#8221; replied Tom vaguely. &#8220;She is weak,
+of course; any one would be weak after such an attack; but she looks and
+talks much as usual, only she is too tired to get up.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And it is her heart, you say?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, my father says so. You see, she has always been weakly, but there
+never seemed much amiss to us; and now my father says that he never
+expects her to make an old woman, and that there is something wrong with
+her heart, and he is afraid that she may go off in one of these attacks,
+and that is why he wants Bessie to come home at once.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I see; it looks very serious. Oh, there is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> luncheon-bell. I
+have ordered the carriage round directly afterward, so you will be in
+plenty of time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>When the two young men returned to the house they found Bessie in the
+dining-room. She took her old place by Richard, and made some pretense
+of eating. Once, when Richard spoke to her, begging her to remember the
+long journey before her, she looked up at him with a faint smile; that
+smile, so gentle and childlike, haunted Richard during the remainder of
+the day.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was battling bravely with her feelings all luncheon, and during
+the short interval that elapsed before the carriage was brought round
+she managed to say a few words to Mrs. Sefton, thanking her for all her
+kindness, and just before she left the house she found an opportunity to
+speak to Edna.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna,&#8221; she whispered, holding her friend&#8217;s hand, &#8220;you will not forget
+our talk. I shall be thinking of you even when I am with Hatty.&#8221; And
+then for the moment she could say no more.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will you come, Miss Lambert?&#8221; urged Richard gently. He had followed the
+girls, and had overheard this little speech; but Bessie did not heed
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will you try to be brave, Edna?&#8221; But her voice was almost inaudible.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Go with Richard, Bessie, darling; he is waiting for you.&#8221; And then
+Bessie got into the carriage.</p>
+
+<p>She looked back and waved her hand as they drove<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> away, but this time
+there was no smile on her face. Edna was standing on the porch, and the
+afternoon sun was shining on her face and hair and white dress, and her
+large wistful eyes were full of sadness. Bessie&#8217;s lip quivered, her
+heart ached. How beautiful it all was! The world seemed glorified in
+sunshine; every one they met seemed happy, and yet Edna was wretched,
+and Hatty ill&#8212;perhaps dying; and a great black cloud seemed to
+overshadow everything, a sense of terror and confusion, of utter chaos.
+&#8220;In the midst of life we are in death.&#8221; Why did those words come to
+Bessie? Just before the train moved Richard broke the silence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will let us hear how things are, Miss Lambert?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I will write to Edna.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And you will take care of yourself?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, thank you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Things maybe better than you expect; one can never tell.&#8221; He stopped
+and looked earnestly in her face, and she could see that he was very
+much moved. &#8220;I wish you could be spared all this, but I know you will do
+your best for everybody. I will not tell you now how we shall all miss
+you; the house will seem very empty when I go back.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have been very good to me, Mr. Sefton; thank you for everything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>&#8220;No one can help being good to you,&#8221; he replied gravely. &#8220;Good-bye, God
+bless you!&#8221; The train moved on, and he lifted his hat and stood aside.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, how kind every one is!&#8221; thought Bessie, as she leaned back wearily
+and closed her eyes. Was it all a dream, or was her beautiful holiday
+really over? Alas! the dull, aching consciousness told her too truly
+that it was sorrowful reality.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.<br />
+<br />
+<small>&#8220;FAREWELL, NIGHT!&#8221;</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> journey seemed endless to Bessie, but she restrained her painful
+restlessness for Tom&#8217;s sake. Tom was very kind after his own fashion; he
+got her some tea at Paddington, and was very attentive to her comfort,
+and every now and then he gave utterance to a few remarks, bidding her
+keep up her heart like a brave little woman.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;While there is life there is hope,&#8217; you know, Bessie,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I
+think my father takes too dark a view of the case; but then, you see,
+Hatty is his own child. I don&#8217;t believe she is as bad as all that;
+depend upon it, she will take a good turn yet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t let us talk about it, Tom,&#8221; pleaded Bessie, with a sick, wretched
+feeling that Tom&#8217;s boyish testimony was not very reliable. How she
+wished he would be silent; but in a few minutes he was back again on the
+same subject, with another homely axiom for Bessie&#8217;s comfort.</p>
+
+<p>But the longest day must have an end, and at last they reached Cliffe.
+No one met them at the station,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> but Tom assured her that he never
+expected to be met; he put Bessie into a fly, and again there was need
+for patience, as the horse toiled slowly up the steep road. It was long
+past nine when they reached the house, and by that time Bessie&#8217;s
+overwrought feelings bordered on nervous irritability.</p>
+
+<p>The door opened as the fly stopped, and by the hall lamp she saw her
+mother&#8217;s face, looking paler and sadder, but her voice was as quiet and
+gentle as ever.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is that you, Bessie? My dear child, how tired you must be!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mother, mother!&#8221; and now Bessie literally fell on her mother&#8217;s neck
+and wept.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lambert seemed to understand all about it; she made her sit down on
+the couch, and took off her hat, and smoothed her hair with caressing
+fingers.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have had a long day, and have been keeping up as well as you could;
+don&#8217;t be afraid of giving way a little, now you are with your own
+mother,&#8221; she said tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mother, you are such a comfort; but I must not trouble you like
+this, and I am keeping you from Hatty.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hattie is asleep,&#8221; replied her mother quietly. &#8220;Christine is with her;
+you must come into the dining-room with me, and have something to eat
+and drink before you go upstairs;&#8221; but Bessie detained her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> &#8220;Wait a
+moment, mother, darling; Tom is there, and I want to speak to you alone.
+What does father really think of Hatty?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He thinks her very ill,&#8221; was the sorrowful answer; &#8220;it seems a sudden
+failure. She was much as usual until the warm weather came, and then one
+evening she complained of palpitation and faintness, and the next day
+she seemed very weak, and so it has gone on. Your father says he was
+always afraid there was latent mischief, but I think he hardly expected
+it would be like this. There was a consultation this morning, but they
+say there is no rallying power, and another attack may carry her off.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mother, if I had only stayed at home!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t say that, Bessie; you must not even think of it; no care on your
+part could have prevented this. Hatty seemed as well as usual for a week
+or two after you left, and none of us suspected anything. You are very
+good not to reproach us for not sending for you before, but Hatty
+prevented us; she would not have your pleasure spoiled, and it was only
+last night that your father looked so grave, and said Tom had better
+fetch you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But is there no hope&#8212;no hope at all, mother?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I dare not ask the question,&#8221; and here Mrs. Lambert&#8217;s eyes filled with
+tears. &#8220;Your father looks so harassed. Dr. Morton said she might go on
+like this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> for a long time, getting weaker and weaker, or it might be
+sudden. Dear little Hatty is so good and patient, and gives us no
+trouble. Now you must not talk any more, and you must be a good child
+and take your supper; we all need to keep up our strength. I will leave
+Tom to take care of you while I go up to Hatty.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie did as she was told, and Ella and Katie waited on her, and then
+she went up to her own room, and stayed there until Christine came to
+fetch her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hattie is awake now, Bessie, and she is asking for you, and mother has
+gone downstairs to speak to father.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, Chrissy dear. I will go to her at once;&#8221; and Bessie went
+hurriedly across the passage.</p>
+
+<p>Hattie lay on her little bed with her eyes closed. As she opened them a
+sudden sweet smile came over her face, and she held out her arms to
+Bessie. &#8220;My own Betty, is it really you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, it is really I,&#8221; returned Bessie, trying to speak brightly; but
+now her heart sunk as she looked at her sister. There was no need to
+tell her Hatty was very ill; the life was flickering in the feeble body,
+the mysterious wasting disease had made rapid strides, even in these few
+days. &#8220;Oh, Hatty darling, to find you like this! Why&#8212;why did you not
+let them send for me? You wanted me; I am sure you wanted me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, of course I wanted you,&#8221; returned Hatty, in a weak, happy voice,
+&#8220;and that is just why I would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> not let them send. You know how unhappy I
+have always been because of my horrid selfishness, and I did want to be
+good for once, and I said to myself when Mrs. Sefton&#8217;s letter came,
+&#8216;Bessie shall not know how poorly I feel, nor what strange suffocating
+feelings I have sometimes. I won&#8217;t try to get my own way this time; she
+shall be happy a little longer.&#827;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Hatty! as though I cared for any happiness without you!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You must not say that, Bessie dear,&#8221; replied Hatty, stroking her
+sister&#8217;s hand; &#8220;and yet it seems nice to hear you say so. Do you
+recollect what I used to say&#8212;that it would take very little to kill me,
+because I was so weak? Well, I think it is coming true.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t talk so, Hatty; I can&#8217;t bear it. I feel as if I want to lie there
+in your stead.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But Hatty shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, darling, no; that would not do at all. You are so strong and full
+of life, and people could not spare you. It does not matter for a weakly
+little creature like myself. I have never been strong enough to enjoy
+anything. I have just been &#8216;Little Miss Much-Afraid,&#8217; full of
+troublesome fears and fancies; but they seem gone somehow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am so glad, my Hatty; but ought you to talk?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, when I feel like this. Oh, I am so comfortable, and it is so nice
+to have you with me again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> What talks we will have! Yes, I don&#8217;t feel
+like dying yet. Oh, there&#8217;s mother, and she is going to send you away.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, for to-night, love. Bessie is tired, and it is not good for you to
+talk so much. Bessie shall be head nurse to-morrow, if she likes, but
+father says she is to go to bed now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well, mother,&#8221; replied Hatty meekly. &#8220;Bid me good-night, Bessie. I
+don&#8217;t mean to be selfish ever again.&#8221; And as Bessie kissed her without
+speaking and moved away, she said to herself, &#8220;It was Bessie that always
+helped me to be good; but bye and bye I shall be quite good. Oh, how
+nice that will be!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie&#8217;s life was changed, indeed, from this day. No more thoughtless,
+merry hours, no more rides and drives and pleasant musical evenings. Her
+days were passed in a sick-room, and from hour to hour she seemed only
+to live on Hatty&#8217;s looks and words. Bessie had for many years been her
+mother&#8217;s right hand, and now she shared her watch beside the sick-bed.
+Her bright, healthy color began to fade from fatigue and anxiety, and it
+needed her father&#8217;s stringent orders to induce her to take needful rest
+and exercise. For the first time in her life Bessie found it difficult
+to submit, and she had to fight more than one battle with herself before
+she yielded. More than once her mother remonstrated with her tenderly
+but firmly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bessie dear,&#8221; she said once, &#8220;this may be a long illness, and it is
+your duty to husband your strength most carefully. You are looking pale
+from confinement to the house and want of exercise. You know your father
+insists that Christine should relieve you for two hours in the
+afternoon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, mother; and of course father is thinking of me; but what does it
+matter if I look a little pale? I cannot bear to lose an hour of Hatty&#8217;s
+company when&#8212;when&#8212;&#8221; but Bessie could not finish her sentence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear, the feeling is natural; but don&#8217;t you think Chrissy likes to
+have her to herself sometimes? We all love Hatty; you must remember
+that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mother, how selfish I am, after all! I see what you mean. I want to
+monopolize Hatty, and I grudge her to every one else&#8212;even to you and
+Chrissy. I never knew I could be so horrid; but I see even trouble has
+its temptations.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed it has, Bessie; but I will not have you say such hard things
+about yourself. You are our dear child, and our greatest comfort, and I
+do not know what your father and I would do without you. Don&#8217;t fret any
+more, darling; go out with Katie, and get a little turn in the woods,
+and come back fresh for the evening work.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lambert&#8217;s words were not thrown away. Bessie&#8217;s sweet, reasonable
+nature was easily guided; her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> passionate love for Hatty had blinded her
+to her own selfishness, but now her eyes were open. The mother&#8217;s heart
+was often touched by the cheerful alacrity with which Bessie would yield
+her place to Christine. Even Hatty&#8217;s plaintive, &#8220;Oh, must you go,
+Bessie?&#8221; seemed to make no impression; but how long those two hours
+seemed!</p>
+
+<p>Bessie did not forget her friends in her trouble; she sent frequent
+notes to Edna, and heard often from her in return. Now and then a kind
+message came from Richard, and every week a hamper filled with farm
+produce and fruit and flowers were sent from The Grange. Hatty used to
+revel in those flowers; she liked to arrange them herself, and would sit
+pillowed up on her bed or couch, and fill the vases with slow, tremulous
+fingers.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Doesn&#8217;t the room look lovely?&#8221; she would say, in a tone of intense
+satisfaction. When her weakness permitted she loved to talk to Bessie
+about her friends at The Grange, and was never weary of listening to
+Bessie&#8217;s descriptions.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a nice man Mr. Richard must be, Betty!&#8221; she would say. &#8220;I should
+like to see him.&#8221; And she often harped on this theme, and questioned
+Bessie closely on this subject; but often their talk went deeper than
+this.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, about five weeks after Bessie&#8217;s return, she was alone with
+Hatty; she had been reading to her, and now Hatty asked her to put down
+the book.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>&#8220;Yes, it is very nice, but I feel inclined to talk. Come and lie on the
+bed, Bessie, and let us have one of our old cosy talks. Put your head
+down on the pillow beside me. Yes, that is how I mean; isn&#8217;t that
+comfortable? I always did like you to put your arm round me. How strong
+and firm your hand feels! Look at the difference.&#8221; And Hatty laid her
+wasted, transparent fingers on Bessie&#8217;s pink palm.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poor little Hatty?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I am not poor a bit now. You must not call me that. I don&#8217;t think I
+have ever been so happy in my life. Every one is so kind to me&#8212;even
+Tom&#8212;he never finds fault with me now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We are all so sorry for you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but you must not be too sorry. Somehow I am glad of this illness,
+because it makes you all think better of me. You will not remember now
+how cross, and jealous, and selfish I used to be. You will only say,
+&#8216;Poor little thing, she always wanted to be good, even when she was most
+naughty and troublesome.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t, Hatty; I can&#8217;t bear to hear you!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, let me say it, please; it seems to do me good. How often you have
+helped me over my difficulties. &#8216;If I could only tell Bessie,&#8217; that was
+what I used to say. I am glad you went away and gave me something to
+bear. I used to be glad every night when I prayed; it was something to
+do for you, and something to bear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> for His sake.&#8221; And Hatty dropped her
+voice reverently, for she was speaking of the Lord Jesus.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, darling, I see what you mean.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am glad that it has not been too easy, and that I have really tried
+for once not to be selfish. I don&#8217;t want to get well, Bessie. I should
+have all the old, miserable feelings over again. I have been &#8216;Little
+Miss Much-Afraid&#8217; all my life, and the fears have been a part of me. Do
+you recollect what Bunyan said about Much-Afraid? &#8216;She went through the
+river singing;&#8217; that was because she had left all her fears and troubles
+on the bank.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And you are not afraid to die, Hatty?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, not really afraid. Sometimes in the night, when I lie awake with
+that strange oppression, I think how strange it will be without you all,
+and to have only the angels to talk to me. But I suppose I shall get
+used to it. I always say that psalm over to myself, and then the queer
+feeling leaves me. Don&#8217;t you know? &#8216;He shall give His angels charge over
+thee. They shall bear thee up in their hands.&#8217; That verse gives one such
+a restful feeling; just as though one were a little child again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dear Hatty, you will be in that city where &#8216;the inhabitants shall not
+say, I am sick, and they that dwell therein shall be forgiven their
+iniquity.&#8217; You will be where Jesus is.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
+&#8216;Peace, perfect peace with loved ones far away!<br />
+In Jesus&#8217; keeping we are safe&#8212;and they.&#8217;<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>It does me good to hear you; but you must not talk any more, your voice
+is so weak. Let me repeat one of your favorite hymns, and then perhaps
+you will get drowsy.&#8221; And then Hatty consented to be silent.</p>
+
+<p>After all, the end came very suddenly, just when it was least expected.
+Hatty had seemed better that day; there was a strange flicker of life
+and energy; she had talked much to her mother and Bessie, and had sent a
+loving, playful message to Tom, who was away from home.</p>
+
+<p>It had been her father&#8217;s custom to take the early part of the
+night-watch, and then to summon one of the others to relieve him. He had
+persisted in this, in spite of long, laborious days. Hatty was very dear
+to her father&#8217;s heart, and he loved those quiet hours beside her. Bessie
+had retired to bed early, as it was her turn to be roused, but long
+before the usual hour her mother was beside her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Come, my child, come; do not wait to dress, Hatty is going home fast.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>One startled, non-comprehending look, and then the truth rushed on
+Bessie, and she threw on her dressing-gown and hurried to the sick-room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Going home fast!&#8221; nay, she had gone; the last sigh was breathed as
+Bessie crossed the threshold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> &#8220;Thank God, she has not suffered!&#8221;
+murmured her father. Bessie heard him as she flung herself down beside
+Hatty.</p>
+
+<p>There had been no pain, no struggle; a sudden change, a few short sighs,
+and Hatty had crossed the river. How peaceful and happy she looked in
+her last sleep&#8212;the sweet, deep sleep that knows no awaking! An innocent
+smile seemed to linger on her face. Never more would Hatty mourn over
+her faults and shortcomings; never more would morbid fears torment and
+harass her weary mind; never more would she plead for forgiveness, nor
+falter underneath her life&#8217;s burden, for, as Maguire says, &#8220;To those
+doubting ones earth was a night season of gloom and darkness, and in the
+borderland they saw the dawn of day; and when the summons comes they are
+glad to bid farewell to the night that is past, and to welcome with joy
+and singing the eternal day, whose rising shall know no sunset.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Many and many a time during that mourning week did Bessie, spent and
+weary with weeping, recall those words that her darling had uttered, &#8220;I
+don&#8217;t want to get well, Bessie; I should have all the old miserable
+feelings over again.&#8221; And even in her desolation Bessie would not have
+called her back.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8220;My Hatty has gone,&#8221; she wrote to Edna, in those first days of her loss.
+&#8220;I shall never see her sweet face again until we meet in Paradise. I
+shall never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> hear her loving voice; but for her own sake I cannot wish
+her back. Her life was not a happy one; no one could make it happy, it
+was shadowed by physical depression. She had much to bear, and it was
+not always easy to understand her; it was difficult for her to give
+expression to the nameless fears, and the strange, morbid feelings that
+made life so difficult. She loved us all so much, but even her love made
+her wretched, for a careless word or a thoughtless speech rankled in her
+mind for days, and it was not easy to extract the sting; she was too
+sensitive, too highly organized for daily life; she made herself
+miserable about trifles. I know she could not help it, poor darling, and
+father says so too. Oh, how I miss her. But God only knows that, and I
+dare say He will comfort me in His own good time. Mother is ill; she is
+never strong, and the nursing and grief have broken her down, so we must
+all think of her. Pray for us all, dear Edna, for these are sorrowful
+days. I do not forget you, but I seem to look at you through the mist of
+years; still, I am always your loving friend,</p>
+
+<p class="r2">&#8220;<span class="smcap">Bessie.</span>&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.<br />
+<br />
+<small>&#8220;I MUST NOT THINK OF MYSELF.&#8221;</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Bessie&#8217;s</span> words to Edna had been strangely prophetical&#8212;&#8220;Trouble may come
+to me one day;&#8221; it had come already, in its most crushing form. The bond
+of sisterhood is very strong; it has peculiar and precious privileges,
+apart from other relationships; a sort of twinship of sympathy unites
+many sisters who have grown up together. Their thoughts and interests
+are seldom apart. All their little pleasures, their minor griefs,
+youthful hopes, disappointments, are shared with each other. They move
+together through the opening years of their life. Sometimes old age
+finds them still together, tottering hand in hand to the grave. Of all
+her sisters, Bessie could least spare Hatty, and her death left a void
+in the girl&#8217;s life that was very difficult to fill. From the first,
+Bessie had accepted the responsibility of Hatty. Hatty&#8217;s peculiar
+temperament, her bad health and unequal spirits, had set her apart from
+the other members of the family, who were all strong and cheerful and
+full of life.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>Bessie had realized this and had made Hatty her special charge and duty;
+but now there was a gap in her daily life, a sense of emptiness and
+desolation. There was no need now to hurry through her morning&#8217;s task
+that she might sit with Hatty. When she went out, there was no Hatty to
+watch for her return and listen to all her descriptions of what she had
+seen. At night, when Bessie went upstairs, she would creep softly into a
+certain empty room, which was dearer to her than any other room. Hatty&#8217;s
+little gowns, her few girlish possessions, were all locked away in the
+wardrobe; but her Bible and Prayer-book, and her shabby little
+writing-case, lay on the table. Bessie would pull up the blinds, and
+kneel down by the low bed; she liked to say her prayers in that room.
+Sometimes as she prayed the sense of her sister&#8217;s presence would come
+over her strongly; she could almost feel the touch of the thin little
+hands that had so often toiled in her service. Hatty&#8217;s large wistful
+eyes seemed to look lovingly out of the darkness. &#8220;Oh! my Hatty, are you
+near me?&#8221; she would sob; but there was no answer out of the silence.</p>
+
+<p>Who has not tasted the bitterness of these moments, when the craving for
+the loved presence seems insupportable, hardly to be borne? How our poor
+human hearts rebel against the unnatural separation, until the thrilling
+words make themselves heard: &#8220;He is not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> the God of the dead, but of the
+living.&#8221; Oh, yes, of the living! Cease, then, to mourn, poor soul, as
+one without hope. Somewhere, not here, but in the larger room of a
+purified existence, your beloved one lives, breathes, nay, thinks of
+thee. Be comforted; one day we shall meet them, and the friendship of
+time will become the love of eternity.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie strove hard not to be selfish in her grief. Her mother&#8217;s
+strength, never very great, had broken down utterly for a time. Bessie
+knew that this failure of power added to her father&#8217;s anxiety, and in
+the most touching manner she tried to console them both. When she looked
+back at these sad days, Bessie owned that she had been marvellously
+helped and supported. With the day&#8217;s burden had come daily strength to
+bear it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I must not think of myself; I must think of father and mother,&#8221; she
+would say, as she awoke in the morning with that blank sense of loss.
+&#8220;There is nothing to do for Hatty now, but there are others who need
+me.&#8221; And this thought helped her through the day.</p>
+
+<p>In that busy household there was no time to sit alone and brood. A quiet
+walk now and then, and that half hour in Hatty&#8217;s room, was all Bessie
+could conscientiously spare. If she stayed away for an hour, Christine
+complained of dullness, and her mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> looked sadder on her return.
+Ella and Katie, too, made constant demands on her time and patience.
+Christine was very unlike Bessie in temperament. She was a pretty,
+bright girl, warm-hearted and high-spirited, but she did not possess
+Bessie&#8217;s contented nature. Christine often found her quiet life irksome.
+She was inquisitive, restless, eager to see the world. She had
+insatiable curiosity; a love of change, her small girlish ambitions. She
+wanted to plume her wings a little&#8212;to try them in flights hither and
+thither. The gay world seemed to her ignorance a land flowing with milk
+and honey. She had yet to spell the meaning of the words illusion and
+vanity. Bessie was fond of Christine. She loved all her sisters dearly,
+but there was less sympathy between them than there had been between
+herself and Hatty.</p>
+
+<p>Hatty, in spite of her morbid humors and difficult tendencies, had a
+refined and cultured mind; her chief source of fretfulness was that she
+loved the best, and failed to reach it. The very loftiness of her
+standard produced despondency akin to despair.</p>
+
+<p>Hatty&#8217;s faith was pure, but feeble. She hated everything false and mean.
+She despised the conventionalities of life, while Bessie laughed at
+them. She and Bessie had their ideals, their simple secrets, their crude
+girlish notions, that were nevertheless very true and sweet.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>Bessie could make allowances for Hatty&#8217;s sharp speeches as she watched
+her daily struggles with her faulty temper. She could rejoice in Hatty&#8217;s
+victories all the more that she had borne so patiently with her
+failures, and there was no abiding sting in her grief now, no remorseful
+feelings for duties undone and opportunities wasted; but with Christine
+things were different.</p>
+
+<p>One Sunday afternoon when Bessie was stealing away for a quiet half hour
+in Hatty&#8217;s room, she was surprised to find Christine following her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I come in too, Bessie?&#8221; she said very humbly, and her eyes were
+full of tears; &#8220;I do so want a little comfort, and I can&#8217;t talk to
+mother. I am making myself miserable about Hatty.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;About our dear Hatty! Oh, Chrissy, what can you mean?&#8221; asked Bessie
+reproachfully. &#8220;We can talk here, and perhaps our poor darling may be
+listening to us. I do love this room; it seems to breathe of Hatty
+somehow. There, I will open the window. How sweet the air is? and look,
+how red the leaves are, though it is only the end of September!&#8221; And
+then she added, softly: &#8220;Hatty has been six weeks in her new home.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, how I envy you, Bessie!&#8221; sighed Christine, &#8220;you can talk and think
+happily about our dear little Hatty, but with me it is all so different.
+If I had only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> been good to her, if she had not made me so impatient But
+I cannot help remembering how horrid I used to be.&#8221; And here one tear
+after another rolled down Christine&#8217;s pretty, troubled face.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie&#8217;s soft heart grew very pitiful. &#8220;Dear Chrissy,&#8221; she said gently,
+&#8220;there is no need to fret over that now. Hatty was always fond of you,
+and you of her; she told me that night, when I came home, how kind you
+had been to her. There was no one but you to do things, and you were
+such a comfort to her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How could I help being kind to her, when she was so ill, and there was
+the fear of losing her? Somehow, I never thought there was much amiss
+with Hatty. I could not get it out of my mind that she always made the
+most of every little ailment, and that it was wrong of you and mother to
+give in to her. I never thought it would come to this.&#8221; And Christine
+sobbed afresh.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know what you mean; but, indeed, Chrissy, dear, you need not
+distress yourself so. Hatty forgave everything long ago; she was never
+one to bear malice&#8212;no, her nature was too sweet for that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I might have made her happier,&#8221; persisted Christine. &#8220;I need not
+have minded her worrying so over every little trifle, but I was always
+losing patience, and getting vexed with her. I used to wonder at your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
+bearing with her as you did, and I thought it a mistake to give way to
+all her humors. I never imagined that she was cross because she was
+suffering, but father says all her gloomy fancies and tiresome little
+ways came from her bad health.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I might have made her happier!&#8221; That speech went to Bessie&#8217;s heart.
+&#8220;Listen to me, darling,&#8221; she said eagerly; &#8220;think rather of how, by your
+waywardness, you have wounded the loving heart of Jesus, and sinned
+against Him. Let the sense of Hatty&#8217;s loss send you to him in penitence
+for pardon. Nothing can now undo the past; but you can set yourself in
+the grace and strength which Jesus gives to do all in your power to make
+the lives of those around you happier. I do not want to make you more
+miserable, but what you have just said reminds me so of a passage I
+copied only the other day out of one of Tom&#8217;s books; it was written by a
+man who failed in his own life, but was very gentle and very tolerant of
+other people. &#8216;Oh, let us not wait,&#8217; he says, &#8216;to be just, or pitiful,
+or demonstrative toward those we love, until they or we are struck down
+by illness, or threatened with death. Life is short, and we have never
+too much time for gladdening the hearts of those who are travelling the
+dark journey with us. Oh, be swift to love, make haste to be kind!&#8217; And
+then in another place he says, and that is so true, too, &#8216;Never to tire,
+never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> to grow cold; to be patient, sympathetic, tender; to look for the
+budding flower and the opening heart, to hope always like God; to love
+always&#8212;this is duty.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Christine made a despairing gesture. &#8220;It is a duty in which I have
+utterly failed,&#8221; she said bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You think you might have been kinder to Hatty; that is just what Tom
+said of himself the other day. I am afraid many people have these sort
+of reproachful thoughts when they lose one they love. Everything seems
+different,&#8221; she continued, in a musing tone; &#8220;we see with other eyes.
+Death seems to throw such a strange, searching light over one&#8217;s life;
+big things are dwarfed, and little things come into pre-eminence; our
+looks and words and actions pass in review before us&#8212;we see where we
+have failed, and our successes do not comfort us.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you, at least, are free from these thoughts, Bessie?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not entirely. There were times when I found Hatty trying, when she
+depressed me, and made me impatient. Indeed, Chrissy dear, we must
+remember that we are human, and not angels. None of us are free from
+blame; we have all failed in our turn. You have never been morbid
+before; try to forget the little everyday frictions, for which Hatty was
+to blame as well as you, and only remember how good you were to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> her in
+her illness&#8212;what a comfort to me as well as to her. &#8216;Chrissy has been
+such a darling,&#8217; Hatty said to me one day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>After all, Christine was quite willing to be comforted, and presently
+she dried her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You must let me talk to you sometimes, Bessie,&#8221; she said; &#8220;it will do
+me good, because you have such a nice clear way of putting things, and
+you never mind trouble. I know I can&#8217;t take Hatty&#8217;s place, but if you
+will let me do things for you sometimes, and feel that I am a help, for
+we are sisters as much as you and Hatty were, and I want to get nearer
+to you somehow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And so you shall, dear,&#8221; replied Bessie, touched by this humility. &#8220;You
+must not think that I do not love you because Hatty was so much to me.
+There is nothing I would not do for you, Chrissy&#8212;oh, you may be sure of
+that;&#8221; and Bessie kissed her affectionately.</p>
+
+<p>This conversation made Christine happier, for she was a good-hearted
+girl, and her repentance was very real, and it strengthened Bessie in
+her resolve to do her best for them all. Sorrow is a great test of
+character; it makes the selfish more selfish, and hardens the proud, but
+Bessie grew softer under its influence. After all, Edna was right in
+saying that it was harder to suffer through one&#8217;s own fault. An
+affliction that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> comes straight from God&#8217;s hand (though, in one sense,
+all trouble is permitted by His providence) wounds, and yet heals at the
+same time, and Bessie was to learn this by degrees; and, after all, her
+cross was wreathed with the soft flowers of hope.</p>
+
+<p>One morning early in October Bessie had a most unexpected pleasure. She
+had just returned from a long walk, and was on her way to the
+morning-room in search of her mother, when Christine opened the
+drawing-room door and beckoned to her with a very excited face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do come in, Betty,&#8221; she said, in a loud whisper that must have been
+distinctly audible inside the room. &#8220;What a time you have been! and
+there is a friend of yours waiting for you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie quickened her steps, feeling somewhat mystified by Christine&#8217;s
+manner, and the next moment she was face to face with Edna. Bessie
+turned very pale and could hardly speak at first for surprise and
+emotion; but Edna took her in her arms and kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear Bessie,&#8221; she said softly; and then she laughed a little
+nervously, and it was not the old musical laugh at all&#8212;&#8220;are you very
+surprised to see me? Oh, it was a bright idea of mine. I have been
+visiting those same friends (I had returned from them that day, you
+know, when we were snowed up together). Well, when I saw Sheen Valley,
+all of a sudden the thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> popped into my head that I would stop at
+Cliffe, and take a later train; so I telegraphed to mamma, who is in
+London, and now I have a whole hour to spend with you. Is not that
+nice?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very nice indeed. I am so glad to see you, Edna; but you are looking
+delicate; you have lost your color.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What nonsense!&#8221; with a touch of her old impatience. &#8220;You are as bad as
+mamma; she is always finding fault with me. People who live in glass
+houses should not throw stones at their neighbors. You do not look like
+yourself either, Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, that is different,&#8221; and Bessie&#8217;s lips trembled a little; &#8220;I have
+gone through so much since we parted. I try to take it properly, and
+every one helps me, but I think I miss my Hatty more every day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You want a change,&#8221; returned Edna kindly, for she was much touched by
+the alteration in her friend&#8217;s looks.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie had lost her pretty fresh color, and looked pale and subdued in
+her black dress; her gray eyes had a sad look in them, even her voice
+had lost its old cheery tones, and her very movements were quieter; the
+bright elasticity that had been her charm was missing now, and yet Edna
+thought she had never looked so sweet.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My poor little Daisy,&#8221; she continued, &#8220;you have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> a crushed look. You
+want country air to revive you. Will you come to us? Mamma will be
+delighted; you are such a favorite of hers; and as for myself, I want
+you more than I can say.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not yet; I could not leave mother yet,&#8221; returned Bessie; but a faint
+color stole into her face. No, she could not leave her post, and yet it
+would have been nice to see The Grange again, and Richard&#8217;s friendly
+face; he had been so kind to her; and there was Whitefoot, and the dear
+dogs, and the lanes would be full of hips and haws. &#8220;No, not yet; but I
+should like to come again one day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, well, I will not tease you; bye and bye I will make another
+appeal, but if your mother be not well&#8212;&#8212;&#8221; She paused, and then
+something of the old mischief came into her eyes. &#8220;You see I am
+improving, Bessie; I am not always trying to get my own way; my goodness
+makes mamma quite uneasy. I think she has got it into her head that I
+shall die young; all good young people die&#8212;in books. No, it was wrong
+of me to joke,&#8221; as a pained look crossed Bessie&#8217;s face. &#8220;Seriously, I am
+trying to follow your advice; but, oh! it is such hard work.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dear Edna, do you think I do not see the difference in you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Am I different?&#8221; she asked eagerly, and a wistful look came into her
+lovely eyes. &#8220;Richard said the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> other day how much nicer I was; we are
+quite friends, Ritchie and I, now, and I won&#8217;t let mamma be so hard on
+him. He was very kind to me when&#8212;when&#8212;Neville went away; he tells me
+about him sometimes, for once or twice he has seen him in London; but
+just fancy, Bessie, he never even asked after me. &#8216;Are your people
+well?&#8217; That is all he said; but of course he will never forgive me; men
+are like that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He may not think that you want to be forgiven,&#8221; returned Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>Edna&#8217;s color rose.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He will never know it,&#8221; she said proudly; but the next moment her tone
+changed. &#8220;Oh, Bessie, what shall I do? Sometimes I am so miserable that
+I hardly know how I am to go on living. I never thought I should miss
+Neville like this, but I do&#8212;I do.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do not think me unkind if I say that I rejoice to hear it; it proves
+how deep and real your affection was.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was the only real part of me,&#8221; was the reply. &#8220;Now it is too late, I
+have discovered it for myself. I never would let myself think seriously
+of my engagement. I liked Neville, and I meant to marry him one day, and
+that was all I thought about it; but now I see that the real feeling was
+there all the time, only choked up with rubbish, and I am quite sure
+that I could never care for any one else in the same
+way&#8212;never&#8212;never.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>&#8220;Poor Edna! it is very hard, and I am so sorry for you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But as Bessie spoke Christine came back into the room with a small tray
+of refreshments, and her mother followed, so she and Edna were obliged
+to break off the conversation.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.<br />
+<br />
+<small>&#8220;BESSIE&#8217;S SECOND FLITTING.&#8221;</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Just</span> before Edna left them Dr. Lambert came into the room. He seemed
+very pleased to see her, and at once offered to drive her to the
+station. Bessie was a little disappointed at this, for she had hoped to
+walk down with her friend; it would have given them time to finish their
+conversation; but Edna certainly looked tired, so she refrained from a
+dissenting word.</p>
+
+<p>Edna bade her good-bye very affectionately, and begged her to write to
+her frequently, and just before they reached the station she said a word
+or two to Dr. Lambert; would he spare Bessie to them bye and bye&#8212;not
+now, but a little later&#8212;for Oatlands was pleasant even in the winter?</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, bye and bye,&#8221; he returned hastily; &#8220;but her mother cannot spare
+the girl now; she is not well; her strength has flagged since Hatty&#8217;s
+death, and Bessie is mother&#8217;s crutch; but later on you shall have her;
+and indeed she looks pale, and in need of change, and I shall be
+thankful to let her go.&#8221; And when he reached<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> the home he told them all
+of Edna&#8217;s invitation to Bessie, and how he had answered her.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lambert looked wistfully at her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You would like to go, Bessie; it would do you good, and indeed I am
+growing stronger every day. I would spare you willingly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, mother, I am not going to leave you just now. Why, you have not
+been down yet to breakfast. When you are quite well and strong I will
+think of it.&#8221; And Bessie looked tenderly at her mother&#8217;s thin, faded
+face.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps it was not quite so thin as it was, not so pinched and anxious,
+but there was plenty of room for improvement; and though Mrs. Lambert
+sighed, she could not conscientiously own that she was well. But when
+she was alone with her husband, she spoke to him about Bessie&#8217;s looks.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She is not like the same girl,&#8221; she said sadly. &#8220;She feels darling
+Hatty&#8217;s loss more than the others. What does it matter about me,
+Herbert? A mother must think of her children before herself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Perhaps so,&#8221; he replied rather dryly, &#8220;but it is my duty to think first
+of you, my dear Dora. We both love our children, and would willingly do
+our best for them. I am not blind to Bessie&#8217;s looks; but she is really
+strong, and her health will not suffer.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; but the change will do her good,&#8221; she pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I do not doubt it, and I wish you were strong<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> enough to spare her; but
+Bessie is young enough to wait a little. It is we who are growing old,
+my dear, and who need to be comforted quickly; the young have their life
+before them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But though the doctor expressed himself after this stoical fashion, he
+was very tender in his manner to Bessie, and though he would not have
+avowed it to his wife, he watched the girl narrowly, and often took her
+for drives, or contrived errands for her at the other end of the town.
+Nay, more, he became extravagant, and brought home books for her and
+Christine, bidding them improve their minds, and Bessie found herself
+the possessor of several nice books, not wholly instructive&#8212;for &#8220;Lorna
+Doone,&#8221; and Miss Austen&#8217;s &#8220;Emma,&#8221; and &#8220;A Sister&#8217;s Story,&#8221; by Mrs.
+Craven, were among them.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie had other little surprises that pleased her greatly; every week
+or two a hamper came from Oatlands&#8212;new-laid eggs and cream, a chicken
+or two, and often a brace of partridges or a pheasant. Bessie, who was
+housekeeper, used to rejoice over the contents of these hampers; she
+knew the game would tempt her mother&#8217;s sickly appetite. Many of Dr.
+Lambert&#8217;s patients remembered that he had an invalid wife, and fruit and
+flowers and all sorts of delicacies found their way to the doctor&#8217;s
+house, for the Lamberts were much respected in Cliffe, and even the poor
+people would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> step up with a couple of new-laid eggs from a speckled
+hen, or a pot of blackberry-jam, or a bottle of elderberry wine for Mrs.
+Lambert.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The world is very full of nice people,&#8221; observed Bessie one day, when,
+near Christmas, she looked at the larder shelves fairly laden with good
+things. One kind friend had sent them a barrel of oysters. Aunt
+Charlotte&#8217;s contribution had been a stock of apples that would last them
+half through the winter.</p>
+
+<p>The hamper from Oatlands had been unusually rich, for a turkey, and a
+great fat goose dangled from the ceiling, and Edna had added a rich cake
+and a packet of bonbons and chocolate for Ella and Katie. But the letter
+that accompanied it had made Bessie somewhat anxious. Edna had a cold, a
+severe cold, for she could not shake it off, and her mother had decided
+to take her to Brighton for a month or two. The doctor had recommended
+Hastings or Bournemouth as being warmer, but Edna had a fancy for
+Brighton, so her mother had taken a suite of rooms in the Glenyan
+Mansions&#8212;a big drawing-room overlooking King&#8217;s Road and the sea, and a
+small dining-room leading out of it.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&#8220;And we have four bedrooms,&#8221; wrote Edna, &#8220;for Richard proposes to run
+down for a night or two now and then, and mamma suggests an invitation
+to you. Do you think you could come, Bessie&#8212;that your mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> could
+spare you? We are going on the third of January, and want you to join us
+a few days afterward. Do try, there&#8217;s a dear! My cold has made me so
+weak and miserable, and the cough will not let me sleep properly at
+night, so of course my life is not very pleasant. It will be such a
+comfort to have you, for I never can talk to mamma; she frets herself
+into a fuss over everything, and that makes me, oh, so impatient, I
+should like to jump into the sea! But you are such a patient, reasonable
+little creature, Daisy dear, and I am so fond of you. Bye the bye,
+Richard has sent you a message. He was very particular in repeating it
+more than once. Let me see; oh, this is it: &#8216;Do you not think that you
+owe some duty to your friends, especially when they need you?&#8217; That he
+was sure you could do me good, and that he hoped you would make every
+effort to come, if only for my <a name="sake" id="sake"></a><ins title="original has closing quotation mark">sake.</ins> Was that not kind
+and brotherly of him? But then Richard is very much improved, too.&#8221;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Bessie hardly knew what she was to say in reply. Her mother was better,
+certainly; but she could not propose to leave her. She was much
+surprised when her father asked her that evening if no letter had
+accompanied the hamper, and on her replying in the affirmative, he
+coolly asked to see it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; he said interrogatively, as he handed back the letter, &#8220;what
+answer do you propose to give, Bessie?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I do not know; at least, I have not thought about it,&#8221; she answered.</p>
+
+<p>Her father looked at her steadily.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have never been to Brighton?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>&#8220;Never, father.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So much the better; it will be all new to you. Sit down and write to
+Miss Edna at once, and tell her that you will be glad to spend a week or
+two with her and her mother. Let me see, what time did she say? The
+first week in January, that will fit in well. I am going up to town on
+the seventh, and we can travel together. That will do famously, will it
+not, mother?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think you can spare me, mother?&#8221; asked Bessie anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>And Mrs. Lambert answered without hesitation: &#8220;I certainly can and will
+spare you, Bessie, and I am very grateful to Mrs. Sefton for her
+invitation. My dear,&#8221; as the girl still hesitated, &#8220;your father and I
+have long wished you to have a little holiday, so your mind may be quite
+at rest.&#8221; And after this Bessie was satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>But it was with very different feelings that Bessie left her home in the
+mild-tempered sunshine of that January day, to those when, seven months
+ago, she paid her first visit to The Grange. Things had been well with
+her then; no trouble since her brother&#8217;s death had checkered her bright,
+sunshiny existence. She had gone in holiday mood to seek fresh interests
+and new enjoyments; but now how utterly changed were her feelings! She
+could no longer look out upon the world through the rose-colored
+spectacles that youth generally wears. For the second time in her life
+she had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> brought face to face with death, and the great reality had
+sobered her. A deep sense of responsibility, of the inner meaning of
+life, seemed to cast a weight of gravity over her. A bond of sympathy
+seemed to unite her with all those who were in sorrow; so many were
+unhappy, so many had lost their nearest and dearest. Oh, how she longed
+to comfort them all!</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was not one to speak of her feelings; the best of her life was
+out of sight. Only once she said to Christine, as they were walking home
+from church in the starlight:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;People are very proud when their relatives achieve any worldly honor or
+attain to any rank, yet no one seems to feel an added dignity when any
+dear one has finished his or her earthly conflict most gloriously, and
+has won a heavenly crown. Why is it, Chrissy? Somehow it seems such an
+honor to me to feel I have a sister as well as a brother in heaven; it
+makes one more careful not to do anything unworthy of them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie&#8217;s gray eyes had a softer look in them than they had of old; her
+voice had grown more gentle. Mrs. Sefton, who was at the station, hardly
+recognized the girl as she came quickly toward her; the black dress and
+crape bonnet made her look older, but when she smiled it was the same
+Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear, are you very tired?&#8221; she asked, looking at her kindly. &#8220;It is
+such a cold evening that I dare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> not let Edna come with me, for her
+cough is still troublesome. I had some difficulty with her, but at last
+I got my way. Edna is not nearly so self-willed as she used to be.&#8221; But
+here Mrs. Sefton sighed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think Edna is really better?&#8221; asked Bessie, when the carriage
+door was closed, and they drove away from the station.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I do not know,&#8221; returned Mrs. Sefton, in a troubled voice. &#8220;Dr. Milton
+assures me that there is nothing radically wrong with her health, only
+want of tone and a severe cold; but I cannot feel comfortable about her.
+She is losing appetite and flesh, and her spirits are so variable. She
+is not happy, Bessie, and she cannot always hide her feelings from her
+mother. Richard says that we can do nothing; but how are we to go on
+like this?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie hardly knew what to answer; she was full of sympathy for the
+anxious mother; she knew Edna was her one thought in life, and that no
+happiness was possible to her if her child suffered. They were in the
+King&#8217;s Road now, and the brightly lighted shop-windows almost dazzled
+Bessie. On the opposite side she could see a dark line that was
+evidently the sea; a dull, heavy surging of waves broke on her ear; now
+and then the splash of the white surf was clearly visible.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna is young,&#8221; she said vaguely; but, after all, there was scant
+consolation in this truism, for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> young suffer very keenly; a sense
+of impatience, of injustice, aggravates their pain. The old accept their
+sorrows more meekly; their reason comes to their aid. &#8220;Man is born to
+trouble,&#8221; they say, and the philosophy enables them to endure at least
+with some show of dignity.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, she is young; perhaps she may be consoled,&#8221; replied Mrs. Sefton,
+with another sigh; and then the carriage stopped. &#8220;Our rooms are on the
+first floor,&#8221; observed Mrs. Sefton, as they stood in the large,
+brilliantly lighted hall, and she conducted Bessie up the staircase and
+down a narrow corridor, and then into a long, well-furnished
+drawing-room, where they found Edna.</p>
+
+<p>She was sitting on a low chair, looking at the fire, but she sprang up
+and welcomed Bessie warmly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear little Daisy, how delighted I am to see you!&#8221; she said, with
+something of her old animation. &#8220;Mamma, is it not delicious to have her
+again? Sit down there; you look tired and cold, and I mean to wait on
+you. Mamma, the tea is all ready, and I am going to pour it out. Take
+off your warm jacket, Bessie; oh, and your bonnet too; and then you will
+look more like yourself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie did as she was bidden, but her eyes followed Edna&#8217;s graceful
+figure. How delicate she looked&#8212;far, far too pretty! She was almost
+dazzling to-night. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> ruby velveteen set off her fair hair and white
+skin; her face was flushed, and her eyes were too bright; and as she
+moved about Bessie heard her cough once or twice&#8212;a hard, dry cough. But
+there seemed nothing wrong with Edna&#8217;s spirits to-night. She was
+evidently overjoyed to have her friend with her again; she talked and
+laughed after her old fashion.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will be sure to like this place, Bessie,&#8221; she said. &#8220;The shops are
+delightful, and it is so amusing to see the people; and the sea is
+magnificent. I have my ponies here, so we can have plenty of drives; and
+there are some people that we know at the Bedford. We don&#8217;t intend to
+mope, mamma and I; we are going to the grand bazaar at the Pavilion, and
+there are some first-rate concerts. But you shall be as quiet as you
+like,&#8221; with a sudden change of tone, as Bessie looked grave; &#8220;your only
+duty will be to talk to me. Now I will show you your room, and you shall
+unpack and get ready for dinner.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was not sorry to be left alone in her comfortable room. When she
+had finished her unpacking, she put on her best cashmere dress, with its
+soft white frilling, and fastened a few white flowers at her throat.
+Then she sat down before the fire, and had a quiet quarter of an hour
+before Edna came in search of her and carried her off.</p>
+
+<p>All the evening Edna was as merry as possible. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> played several of
+her favorite pieces, and even sung a little; only as the evening drew to
+its close she began to have a white, exhausted look; but she followed
+Bessie into her room, and sat down on the rug, with the evident
+intention of having a talk.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna, you must not stay; you look far too tired,&#8221; remonstrated Bessie;
+&#8220;and we shall have plenty of time for talk to-morrow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I like fireside talks best,&#8221; replied Edna willfully; &#8220;and I am not
+inclined to sleep yet. I do hate the night!&#8221; with sudden petulance. &#8220;It
+is so stupid to lie awake and watch the fire go out, and count sheep
+jumping through a gap in the hedge; anything to cheat one&#8217;s self into
+oblivion. Do you sleep well, Bessie?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, always; trouble never keeps me awake. I always think of Hatty when
+I lie down, and wonder what she is doing, and what the angels are
+teaching her, but I fall asleep in the middle of a thought, and it is
+morning before I wake.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you have a good conscience,&#8221; replied Edna bitterly; &#8220;you have no
+remorseful thoughts to goad you into wakefulness. If one could only have
+one&#8217;s life over again, Bessie? I want you to help me while you are here,
+to think what I had better do. I cannot go on like this. Is there
+anything that I can do? Any work? If it were not for mamma, I would go
+to some hospital and learn nursing; it is too dreadful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> living like this
+just to amuse one&#8217;s self, and try to forget. I must do something,
+something for the good of myself, if not for my fellow-creatures.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie listened to her with some surprise. Edna&#8217;s manner was excited;
+she looked feverish; her voice had a hard ring in it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Tell me what I must do,&#8221; she said, fixing her large eyes on Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dear, you must get well first,&#8221; replied Bessie tenderly. &#8220;You are far
+from strong; your mother is right, Edna.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna shook her head impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is nothing&#8212;a cold; what does it signify? How can one feel well with
+all these worrying thoughts? It is work that I want, Bessie&#8212;work that
+will take me out of myself and make me forget.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Are you sure that God wishes you to forget?&#8221; asked Bessie softly. &#8220;Oh,
+my dear,&#8221; stroking her hand, &#8220;you can never say again that I do not know
+what trouble is, that I cannot feel for you; but I have learned that we
+must not run away from our trouble; girls so often talk like that,&#8221; she
+went on, &#8220;about going into a hospital, but they do not know what they
+want. Nursing is too sacred a work to be done from such a motive. What
+good would such a work, undertaken in a selfish, self-seeking spirit, do
+them? Edna, when God wounds He heals, but it must be in His own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> time,
+and in the proper place; and even troubles caused by our own
+recklessness must come under this head.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But, Bessie&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Wait a minute, dear; I seem to see it so clearly. You have work, only
+you are throwing it aside and asking for more. &#8216;Thou earnest not to thy
+place by accident; it is the very place God meant for thee.&#8217; Don&#8217;t you
+remember those lines? Surely, surely, an only daughter&#8217;s place must be
+with her mother; to make her happy must be no light duty. You are her
+one thought from morning to night; it breaks her heart to see you
+unhappy. Edna, if your mother died, and you had not tried to make her
+happy!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean&#8212;oh, I see what you mean, but I am too selfish to find it
+out for myself. I am only thinking of my own good, not of her at all. I
+have never been good to her; she gives all, and I just take it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Make her your work,&#8221; whispered Bessie, &#8220;and bye and bye comfort will
+come to you, as it would not in any hospital, in any self-chosen duty;
+for where God puts us, He must find us, or we shall have to give an
+account of why we have erred and strayed,&#8221; finished Bessie reverently.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.<br />
+<br />
+<small>ON THE PARADE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Bessie</span> had spoken out of the simplicity of her honest heart; but there
+is a great power in earnestness, and her words were not to fall to the
+ground. In spite of Edna&#8217;s faults, many and glaring as they were, she
+was very susceptible to good influences; her affection for Neville
+Sinclair proved this, as well as her friendship with Bessie; underneath
+the leaven of selfishness and self-will engendered by a false education
+there was a large margin of generosity and truth; if she were quick to
+sin, she was also quick to repent.</p>
+
+<p>Edna did not again allude to the subject of her unhappiness; there were
+no more fireside confidences with Bessie, but for two or three days she
+was very quiet and thoughtful, and there were no excited moods of
+merriment to jar on Bessie. She was gentle and affectionate in her
+manner to her mother, and this unusual docility seemed to add to Mrs.
+Sefton&#8217;s uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie did not feel comfortable in her mind about Edna; the old spring
+and elasticity seemed gone forever;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> there was manifest effort in
+everything she did through the day, and yet she never rested willingly.
+She laid out plans for every hour, she made appointments with her
+friends; every day there was driving, shopping, tea-drinking, often a
+concert or recitation to finish off the evening; but now and then, in
+the midst of a lively conversation, there would be the look of utter
+exhaustion on her face, and when her friends had left she would throw
+herself on the couch as though all strength had gone. On these
+occasions, when she was spent and weary, it was not always easy to
+control her irritability. Mrs. Sefton was not a judicious woman, and, in
+spite of her devotion to her daughter, she often showed a want of tact
+and a lack of wisdom that galled Edna&#8217;s jaded spirits. She was always
+urging Edna to seek new distractions, or appealing to her sense of
+vanity.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mamma thinks a new dress or ornament can make any girl happy,&#8221; she said
+one day, with a curl of her lip; &#8220;but she is mistaken; I don&#8217;t care
+about them now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon Mrs. Sefton had been lunching with a friend, and when she
+returned she brought Edna a present; it was a pin brooch set with
+brilliants, a most costly toy, and Edna had admired it in an idle
+moment; but as she opened the little case there was no pleased
+expression on her face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mamma, why have you bought this?&#8221; she asked, in a dissatisfied
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You admired it so much, my darling, and so I thought I would please
+myself by giving you this surprise.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is very pretty,&#8221; holding it out for Bessie&#8217;s inspection; &#8220;but I have
+more ornaments than I know how to use now. I am sorry you bought it,
+mamma; it must have cost so much money.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think I begrudge you anything?&#8221; replied Mrs. Sefton, who was
+much chagrined by this reception of her gift.</p>
+
+<p>Edna looked up at this moment, and saw the disappointed look on her
+mother&#8217;s face. Her better feelings were touched, and she threw her arms
+round her neck.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mother dear, why will you load me so with things?&#8221; she remonstrated.
+&#8220;You give me everything, and I do nothing for you in return; please
+don&#8217;t give me anything more for a long time. I am horribly discontented,
+nothing seems to give me pleasure; even this beautiful pin is wasted on
+me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t talk so, Edna,&#8221; returned her mother, with the tears in her eyes;
+&#8220;if you knew how it troubled me to hear you. There is nothing that I
+would not do to make you happy, but if you talk in that way you take all
+the spirit out of me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>&#8220;Then I won&#8217;t talk so any more,&#8221; replied Edna, repentantly; and she
+fastened the brilliant pin in some lace she wore, and begged them both
+to admire it; and she was very affectionate to her mother all that
+evening, and seemed bent on making her smile.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sefton looked almost happy that night; she thought Edna looked
+better and more like herself, and she had not coughed once, and no one
+knew that as the girl took off her trinket that night she suddenly hid
+her face in her hands and wept.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is all no use, mother,&#8221; she sobbed; &#8220;no money can buy me content nor
+make me good and happy; if I were only like Bessie&#8212;Bessie is worthy of
+him, but I never was&#8212;I never was!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>When Bessie had been with her friends more than a week she began to
+wonder that there was no news of Richard, and one day she asked Edna if
+he were all alone at The Grange.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I believe so,&#8221; was the careless answer; &#8220;but Richard is a regular
+old bachelor, and he will not be dull.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But he comes to see you sometimes?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He has not been yet, but that is mamma&#8217;s fault, and not Ritchie&#8217;s; he
+wrote on Wednesday to say he was coming from Saturday to Monday, but
+mamma said she wanted the room for Miss Shelton, and after all, she did
+not come; so it was a pity Richard should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> be disappointed; and now Miss
+Shelton may come next week, and there is no room for him again. Mamma
+has just written to say that she cannot possibly have him until Saturday
+week.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie felt a pang of disappointment; she was going home on the
+Thursday, and would just miss him. What a pity! He had been so kind and
+friendly to her during her visit at The Grange, and she would have liked
+to have seen him. She wondered vaguely if he would be disappointed too
+when he heard that she had gone. It was thoughtless of Mrs. Sefton to
+invite Miss Shelton, but most likely she had done it on purpose to keep
+her stepson away. Edna had told her rather sorrowfully the other day
+that her mother did not understand Richard any better.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He is never at his ease with her, and so he never appears to advantage
+in her presence,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Poor Ritchie! I am afraid he has a dull
+life at The Grange!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was afraid so too, but she dared not say so; she could only
+appeal to Edna&#8217;s generosity, and beg her to consider that she owed a
+duty to her brother. But she could not say much on this point. A girl
+cannot well enter the lists on a young man&#8217;s behalf; however sensible
+and free from nonsense she may be, she is bound by a sense of
+conventionality; and though in her heart Bessie was very sorry for
+Richard, very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> much interested in his behalf, she felt her pity must be
+kept to herself.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was not ashamed to own her disappointment, and she was human
+enough to bear a grudge against the offending Miss Shelton, who proved
+to be an old governess of Edna&#8217;s, and a most worthy woman.</p>
+
+<p>In consequence of Edna&#8217;s temporary indisposition, which made her languid
+in the morning, the family breakfast was unusually late, and was rarely
+ready before ten. It was Bessie&#8217;s habit, therefore, to go out, after an
+early cup of cocoa, for an hour&#8217;s solitary walk; she enjoyed this more
+than any other part of the day. The Parade was almost deserted at the
+time, and she met few people. She loved to stroll down to the beach and
+watch the waves rolling on the shore; the cold, fresh air invigorated
+her, and her old color returned. Her mother would have been at rest
+about her if she could have seen the girl&#8217;s strong, elastic step, or
+noticed how the sea breezes had brought back her fresh color. Bessie
+would return from these morning walks with refreshed spirits and
+vigorous, youthful appetite that Edna good-naturedly quizzed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You would be hungry, too, if you had swallowed those delicious sea
+breezes,&#8221; Bessie would answer, nothing daunted by these remarks, and she
+persevered in these early strolls.</p>
+
+<p>The morning after their little conversation about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> Richard, Bessie went
+out as usual. There had been rain during the night, and the seats on the
+Parade were soaking, but the sun was shining now, and the little pools
+in the road were sparkling in the warm sunlight, and the sea looked
+clear and blue.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a delicious morning,&#8221; thought Bessie, as she walked on briskly.
+&#8220;There is rather a strong wind, though. Oh, that gentleman has lost his
+hat!&#8221; The gentleman in question had been leaning on the railings,
+looking down on some boys playing on the shingle; but as his hat took to
+itself wings, and rolled playfully down the Parade, after the manner of
+hats, he followed it in quick pursuit. Happily, it rolled almost to
+Bessie&#8217;s feet, and she captured it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you so much,&#8221; observed the young man, gratefully; but as Bessie
+held it to him with a smile, they mutually started, and a simultaneous
+exclamation rose to their lips.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Sinclair!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Miss Lambert!&#8221; and then rather awkwardly they shook hands. &#8220;Who would
+have thought of seeing you here?&#8221; went on Mr. Sinclair, rather
+nervously, as he brushed the wet from his hat. &#8220;But of course one meets
+every one at Brighton, so I ought not to be surprised. I only came down
+last night, and I have already exchanged greetings with half a dozen
+acquaintances. Have you been here long?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>&#8220;About ten days. I am staying with the Sefton&#8217;s at Glenyan Mansions.
+Mrs. Sefton and Edna are both here.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna here?&#8221; and then he bit his lip, and a dark flush crossed his face.
+&#8220;I hope Miss Sefton is quite well,&#8221; he <a name="continued" id="continued"></a><ins title="original has continueed">continued</ins> coldly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed she is not,&#8221; returned Bessie bluntly. But this sudden encounter
+had taken her by surprise, and she hardly knew what she was saying. &#8220;She
+is very far from well. Oh, quite ill, I should say; though she will have
+it that there is nothing the matter. But she is so changed that she is
+hardly like the same girl. Oh, no; she is perfectly different; not like
+Edna at all, and&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What has been the matter with her?&#8221; he asked abruptly; but he turned
+his face away as he put the question. They were both standing by the
+railings, and now he crossed his arms upon them, leaning heavily against
+them, so that Bessie could not see his face. There was no one in sight,
+except the boys playing beneath them, and an old man hobbling on
+crutches. &#8220;What has been the matter with her?&#8221; he repeated, as Bessie
+hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She caught cold, and could not shake it off, and so her mother got
+frightened about her, and brought her here. But it does not seem to do
+her much good. It is her spirits, I think, for she has lost all her fun,
+and she is not at all like the old Edna, and it grieves me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> to see her,&#8221;
+stammered Bessie, confused at having said so much, and yet not willing
+to be silent. &#8220;What can I say? What ought I to do for them both?&#8221; she
+thought, in much distress.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There has never been anything wrong with her spirits before,&#8221; replied
+Mr. Sinclair, in rather an incredulous tone. But Bessie had caught sight
+of his face; it was quite pale now, and he was pulling his mustache
+nervously, and she was not a bit deceived by his voice. &#8220;Do you mean
+that she is not happy? I hope&#8212;that is&#8212;I trust nothing has occurred to
+trouble her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing fresh. Oh, Mr. Sinclair!&#8221; and here Bessie burst out, regardless
+of conventionality, of probable consequences, of everything but her
+honest heart. &#8220;Why do you not understand what it is that ails Edna? If
+you do not know, no one can&#8212;no one&#8212;no one;&#8221; and then, frightened at
+her own audacity, Bessie colored up to her forehead and walked on; but
+Mr. Sinclair was by her side the next moment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t go, Miss Lambert. Please do not leave me yet. Tell me plainly
+what it is you mean. You are Edna&#8217;s friend, and I know you will be true
+to her. You have a good heart. I see in your eyes that you are sorry for
+me; do not be afraid to speak out. Why am I to know what is the matter
+with Edna?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>&#8220;That is a strange question for you to ask; surely you know Edna well
+enough to be aware how deeply she can repent of her faults!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean&#8212;speak plainly, I beseech you; do you&#8212;can you mean that
+Edna repents of her cruel treatment of me?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Repents! Of course she has repented. Mr. Sinclair, you were very wrong
+to leave her. Why did you take her at her word? It was all temper; her
+pride was piqued because she believed herself distrusted. I know Edna so
+well; in spite of her faults, she is true and generous. When she loves,
+she loves once and forever; if she sent you away, she has been sorry for
+it ever since. What must you think of me for telling you this? I am so
+ignorant of the world, most likely I have acted foolishly, but it seems
+to me that truth is everything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think that you have acted nobly, Miss Lambert; you have made me your
+debtor for life, if this be true;&#8221; and then he stopped and passed his
+hand across his forehead, as though the sudden relief had bewildered
+him. &#8220;Oh, thank God!&#8221; she heard him say, as though to himself.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is true.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will believe it; I can trust you; my good angel brought me out this
+morning. The last seven months have not been the happiest time in my
+existence. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> had my own trouble to bear, and then my mother fell ill. I
+thought I should have lost her, but I was spared that; still, her life
+hangs on a thread. I am afraid from your deep mourning that you have
+been in trouble, too, Miss Lambert.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have lost a dear sister.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is sad; but you have other sisters left to comfort you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; three.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I had no one but my mother and Edna; I should have been lonely indeed.
+But now I must not keep you standing any longer; the wind is cold, and
+you are beginning to look tired.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and breakfast will be ready; I must not be late.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is Sefton with you?&#8221; he asked suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; he is at Oatlands; he is not coming until Saturday week.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am sorry to hear it; he would have helped me in a great difficulty.
+Sefton has always been my friend. Miss Lambert, I confess I don&#8217;t
+clearly see my way. I can hardly present myself at Glenyan Mansions, and
+yet how am I to see Edna? If we could only meet, as it were,
+accidentally, it would be better for both of us.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I see what you mean,&#8221; returned Bessie, whose ready sympathy made her
+quick to detect his meaning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> &#8220;Edna is very proud; you think it would be
+wiser to leave her in ignorance of this interview. Yes, you are right;
+there must be some other way;&#8221; and then, after a moment&#8217;s consideration,
+she added, &#8220;There is a fancy bazaar at the Pavilion this afternoon; some
+friends of the Sefton&#8217;s are stall-holders, and we are all going; every
+one will be there; why should you not go too?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; was all he said; but his face brightened perceptibly, and
+then in an eager tone: &#8220;What time will you go?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mrs. Sefton said she should order the carriage at half-past three, so I
+suppose we shall be there about a quarter to four. The Crawfords&#8217; stall
+is at the end of the room, and Minnie and Eleanor Crawford are to be
+dressed in sacques and hoops, with powdered hair, in the fashion of
+George III.&#8217;s time. Edna is very anxious to see their stall in its first
+glory, before there is a rush of buyers.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have made me your friend for life,&#8221; he said lightly. &#8220;I must not go
+any farther, for I see the windows of Glenyan Mansions;&#8221; and then he
+shook hands with her, and quietly retraced his steps to his hotel.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wonder if mother would be shocked,&#8221; thought Bessie. &#8220;I think I should
+have been shocked myself under any other circumstances; but when I
+thought of poor Edna, and saw him looking so pale and grave, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> felt I
+must help them both. Was it very forward of me? Have I betrayed Edna&#8217;s
+confidence? But, no; I found it all out for myself; surely, no one could
+blame me for speaking the truth. If Mr. Richard were here, I would ask
+him. Truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, after all. One
+cannot be wrong if only one be absolutely true.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie found it very difficult to preserve her ordinary demeanor that
+morning. The consciousness that she had a secret oppressed her, but
+neither Mrs. Sefton nor Edna seemed to notice any difference in her
+manner. Edna looked languid and depressed, and seemed to have lost all
+interest in the bazaar. She alarmed Bessie in the course of the morning
+by saying that, after all, she did not care to mix with such a crowd.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Edna, I shall be so disappointed if we do not go!&#8221; exclaimed
+Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear, I was not talking about you,&#8221; replied Edna wearily. &#8220;Mamma
+will go, of course, and you can accompany her; but I am sick of bazaars,
+and the noise and chatter will make my head ache. You may take my purse,
+Bessie, and buy something of Minnie and Eleanor;&#8221; and Edna threw down
+her work and began looking over the batch of novels that her mother had
+sent in from the circulating library, leaving Bessie to digest her
+dismay and disappointment as well as she could.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.<br />
+<br />
+<small>BESSIE BUYS A JAPANESE FAN.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Edna</span> continued in this unsatisfactory mood until luncheon. Nothing
+pleased her. The novels were stupid. She was tired of love tales&#8212;why
+could not people find something else to write about? She was sick of
+such namby-pamby sentimentality; and then they were so untrue to life.
+Stories in real life did not always end happily, or there would not be
+so many old maids in the world.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Single women, Edna; I like that term ever so much better.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; old maids,&#8221; persisted Edna, obstinately; &#8220;cross, cranky old maids.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Old maids, as you call them (and you are very rude to a lot of good,
+nice women, Edna), are not necessarily cross and cranky; the unmarried
+women I know are all busy, cheerful creatures, full of life and energy,
+and very useful in their generation. Father says he always enjoys a talk
+with an unmarried lady; so many of them keep their freshness and youth,
+even though they have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> wrinkles on their faces. I know some of them get
+soured and narrow, but perhaps they have had much to try them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bessie, I do believe you will be an old maid yourself, some day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your prophecy does not frighten me in the least If I am to be an old
+maid, I mean to be a very happy one. You know, Edna, how often I have
+talked to you of my dear Mr. Robertson. Well, he said something on this
+subject in one of his sermons that pleased me very much. I remember dear
+Hatty liked it too. I cannot recollect the exact words, but it was to
+this effect&#8212;that much of our happiness depends on the way we look on
+life; that if we regard it as a complete and finished existence, then no
+doubt those who fail in their aims are disappointed and discontented. In
+this the unmarried and childless woman, and the widow who has lost her
+treasure, will be agreed; but if we regard our present existence as only
+a prelude to a better&#8212;as an education, a training for a high and
+happier sphere&#8212;then the disappointed may take heart, for they have only
+come to the beginning of their life, and may surely wait with some
+degree of patience until a future life expands their happiness. Grown-up
+people do not want their sugar-plums all at once, as children do&#8212;don&#8217;t
+you see it, Edna?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes, I know what you good people mean.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>&#8221; But she spoke with a
+degree of pettishness. &#8220;But I have not climbed as high as you, and I
+shall be a shriveled, cantankerous old maid.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will be nothing of the kind,&#8221; replied Bessie, kissing her. &#8220;But
+luncheon is ready, and here comes your mother; pray, don&#8217;t say anything
+to her about not going to the Pavilion, or she will be so disappointed;
+she never enjoys anything without you.&#8221; And to her great relief Edna
+acquiesced.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sefton talked a great deal about the bazaar during luncheon. The
+Tozers and Lady Hampton were going, and she had heard that Minnie
+Crawford&#8217;s costume was perfect, and suited her admirably.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose I had better go and get ready,&#8221; observed Edna, pushing back
+her chair, &#8220;or mamma will never survive the disappointment. The carriage
+will be here at half-past three.&#8221; And she marched out of the room with
+rather a bored expression on her face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nothing pleases her,&#8221; complained Mrs. Sefton; &#8220;she seems tired of
+everything. I believe she is only going to the bazaar because she thinks
+it will give me pleasure; and the crowd and hot room will make her ill.
+Run after her, Bessie, and beg her not to go. You and I will do very
+well together, and we can choose something pretty for her off the
+Crawford&#8217;s stall. I would rather she did not go, I would indeed.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It will do her good,&#8221; pleaded Bessie; &#8220;the room<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> will not be crowded
+just at first, and it will be such a pretty sight. She would be dull if
+we left her at home and the drive will refresh her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think so?&#8221; returned Mrs. Sefton doubtfully. &#8220;But I am beginning
+to lose heart; nothing we can do seems to please her. I believe she is
+getting tired of Brighton; last night she said she wished we were at
+home; but Oatlands is far too quiet for her. I think I shall take rooms
+in town for the season, and afterward we will go abroad. The Crawford&#8217;s
+are going to the Engadine, and they are lively young people, and their
+society will be good for Edna. Perhaps,&#8221; looking at Bessie wistfully,
+&#8220;your mother might be induced to spare you, and we could take you with
+us. You have never seen Switzerland, Bessie?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, none of us have ever been abroad. Oh, it would be too delightful!&#8221;
+but as Bessie went off smiling to get ready for the drive, she told
+herself that any Swiss journey would be very dubious. &#8220;That is one of
+the things one has to long for all one&#8217;s life,&#8221; thought Bessie, &#8220;one of
+the denied good things that are to come presently.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Edna came down to the carriage looking quite bright and pretty; she was
+no longer in a misanthropic mood, the mere exertion of dressing to
+please her mother had done her a world of good. It was a brilliant
+afternoon and already groups of well-dressed people were moving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> in the
+direction of the Pavilion. &#8220;There are the Tozers, mamma!&#8221; she exclaimed
+beginning to look interested; &#8220;and there is Lady Hampton in that
+victoria; she has her old bonnet on; what a dear old dowdy she is! I
+tell you what, Bessie, I mean to dress well, even when I am a cranky old
+maid; there is a great support in clothes&#8212;and&#8212;no, it can&#8217;t be&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, finish your sentence,&#8221; observed Bessie. &#8220;Have you seen a ghost,
+Edna?&#8221; laughing rather nervously, for Edna had changed color in a
+singular manner.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, only a likeness; but of course I was mistaken;&#8221; but, all the same,
+Bessie knew that Edna had really seen Mr. Sinclair, however much she
+might doubt the evidence of her eyes. She had caught a glimpse of him,
+too&#8212;he was on his way to the Pavilion with the other people.</p>
+
+<p>Edna did not recover herself in a hurry; she looked white and shaken;
+the likeness must have been a strong one, and brought back the past too
+vividly. Bessie glanced at her anxiously. Certainly, Edna&#8217;s looks
+verified her words. Mr. Sinclair would read the truth for himself. They
+had arrived at the Pavilion now, and Mrs. Sefton and Edna were already
+exchanging greetings with their friends.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Does it not look like a picture of Vanity Fair?&#8221; she whispered, when
+they at last made their way into the bazaar.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Well, it was a curious sight, certainly; a young man with powdered hair,
+in a blue velvet coat, offered them programmes of the entertainment; a
+little Moorish girl, with a necklace of gold coins, showed them her
+flower-basket, and a stately Queen Elizabeth smiled at Edna across the
+counter. A harlequin and a cavalier mounted guard over the post-office,
+and a gypsy presided over a fish pond. Mary Stuart and a Greek lady were
+in charge of the refreshment stall. It was a relief when the band struck
+up one of Strauss&#8217; waltzes, and drowned the din of voices; but as the
+sad, sweet strains of &#8220;Verliebt und Verloren&#8221; floated through the room,
+a pained expression crossed Edna&#8217;s face.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later Bessie felt her arm grasped, and Edna whispered
+excitedly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Look, Bessie; is it my fancy&#8212;that gentleman standing by the
+flower-stall&#8212;is it&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, it is Mr. Sinclair,&#8221; returned Bessie calmly. &#8220;Oh, he sees us now;
+he is coming to speak to us. Dear Edna, please don&#8217;t look so pale over
+it; you surely do not mind seeing him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But Edna was beyond answering; there was not an atom of color in her
+face as Mr. Sinclair came up to them and lifted his hat.</p>
+
+<p>It was very odd that just at that minute Bessie was seized with an
+uncontrollable longing to become the possessor of a Japanese fan. It was
+excessively dear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> and excessively ugly, and the young person in the
+Catherine de Medicis ruff who was in charge of that part of the stall
+was otherwise engaged; nevertheless, Bessie would not give up her point.
+Mrs. Sefton was on the other side of the room, talking to Lady Hampton;
+and though it was clearly Bessie&#8217;s duty to remain with Edna, she was
+perfectly blind to the fact; she did not even wait to greet Mr.
+Sinclair, but turned her back on him in the rudest manner, and kept her
+eyes on the gaudy specimen of Japanese art.</p>
+
+<p>It was ten minutes before the coveted article was in her possession, and
+even then the stall seemed to fascinate her, and she was just making up
+her mind that a certain little blue vase would please Christine when
+Mrs. Sefton touched her arm.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My dear child, why have you hidden yourself? and what has become of
+Edna?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Edna?&#8221; looking round; but there was clearly no vestige of her, or of
+Mr. Sinclair either. It was easy to escape detection in that crowd. &#8220;She
+was here just now. Mr. Sinclair was with her, and&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Neville here!&#8221; in intense surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; and Edna seemed rather upset at seeing him, and so I left them.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have taken my breath away,&#8221; exclaimed Mrs. Sefton. &#8220;Oh, Bessie, do
+you think&#8212;&#8212; Come and let me sit down somewhere; my sight-seeing is
+over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> What did he say to her? How did they meet? Did he speak first?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t ask me; I know nothing,&#8221; replied Bessie, with an odd little
+laugh. &#8220;She pointed him out to me, and asked if it were her fancy; and
+then he saw us, and Edna looked very white, and he held out his hand and
+said something; and then there was that Japanese fan, and of course, I
+heard nothing more.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You left them. That was right; you were very sensible, my dear.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Let me tell you everything,&#8221; said Bessie, feeling burdened by her
+secret. &#8220;I have seen Mr. Sinclair before; I met him on the Parade, and
+it was I who told him to come here.&#8221; And she related the purport of her
+conversation with him.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Sefton seemed much moved. &#8220;It will come right;&#8221; she said, in an
+agitated voice. &#8220;My poor child will be happy again. Bessie, I cannot
+tell you how grateful I am to you. I love Neville like a son. It is the
+wish of my heart to see Edna his wife. He has brilliant prospects. He is
+a rising man, and immensely clever; and Edna will never care for any one
+else.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie forgave this worldly speech on account of the motherly tone in
+which it was said.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He must have taken her away; they are certainly not in this room,&#8221; she
+said bye and bye. &#8220;Perhaps they are in the gardens; they will be quieter
+there.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>&#8220;Never mind, we will not look for them. You must amuse yourself, Bessie,
+until they come of their own accord. Suppose we buy something at the
+Crawfords&#8217; stall. I want you to choose something pretty for each of your
+sisters. Throw that hideous fan away! It is not worth sixpence. Where
+did you pick up such an ugly thing?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was the first handy article,&#8221; replied Bessie. &#8220;Throw it away! No
+indeed! I shall keep it forever as a memento of this day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But Mrs. Sefton, in high good-humor, vowed that she should have a
+prettier remembrance of the day than that. A few minutes afterward she
+put a lovely little work-case in Bessie&#8217;s hands. It was fitted up very
+tastefully, and was really a most useful present; and then she proceeded
+to select work-bags and pretty knick-knacks for the Lambert girls.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie remonstrated in vain. Mrs. Sefton had come there to spend money,
+and she lavished one article after another on Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This soft white shawl will just suit your mother,&#8221; she said. &#8220;And, oh!
+here is a pocketbook for Dr. Lambert. <a name="Your" id="Your"></a><ins title="original has You">Your</ins> father will find that
+useful. Does your brother smoke? No? Well, we will buy that letter-case
+for him; and now I think we have finished.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But it was quite half an hour afterward before the truants returned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here they come!&#8221; exclaimed Bessie, as Mrs. Sefton began to get
+restless.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mamma, dear, I hope we have not kept you,&#8221; said Edna penitently;
+but she blushed very prettily as she spoke, and there was no mistaking
+the happy look in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You must blame me, Mrs. Sefton,&#8221; interrupted Mr. Sinclair, who also
+looked radiant. &#8220;There was such a crowd that I took Edna into the
+gardens, and we have been sitting quietly under the trees. I hope we
+have not really inconvenienced you and Miss Lambert.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not a bit,&#8221; replied Mrs. Sefton cheerfully. &#8220;But we may as well go home
+now, as Bessie and I have made all our purchases. Will you see if the
+carriage be there, Neville?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Neville is coming back with us, mamma,&#8221; observed Edna, in her old
+bright manner; and then Mrs. Sefton looked at her meaningly. Just then
+the band struck up with a military march, and Bessie lost Edna&#8217;s low
+answer. There was nothing particular said during the drive home. Mr.
+Sinclair observed he must go to his hotel to dress, and Edna questioned
+Bessie about her purchases.</p>
+
+<p>When they reached Glenyan Mansions, Edna shut herself up with her
+mother, and Bessie went off to her own room and inspected her treasures,
+and then she dressed herself and sat down to read. Bye and bye<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> there
+was a knock at the door, and Edna came in; she looked perfectly lovely
+with that soft look of happiness on her face.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I come in, Bessie? Mamma is talking to Neville in the drawing-room,
+and I can spare you a few minutes. Neville has told me everything. He
+says it is you who smoothed the way for our meeting and reconciliation.
+Bessie, darling, how am I to thank you?&#8221; and Edna wrapped her arms round
+her and kissed her fondly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is all right, then?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was all right the moment I saw him; he just looked at me, and said,
+&#8216;I wonder if you are glad or sorry to see me, Edna?&#8217; and I managed to
+gasp out the word &#8216;Glad!&#8217; And then he took my hand and asked me to come
+out of the crowd, and let him talk to me quietly. It seemed to me we
+understood each other at once.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dear Edna, I congratulate you from my heart.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and it is all owing to you; we shall neither of us forget that.
+Bessie, you don&#8217;t half know how good Neville is, how gentle and generous
+he has been. He would not let me humble myself, or ask for his
+forgiveness. But, oh, he has been so unhappy! His mother has been nearly
+dying, poor fellow, and I never knew it; and even now her health is in a
+critical state. It is so sad for him, for he dotes on her, and they are
+everything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> to each other. He says if it had happened, and he had not
+had me to comfort him, it would almost have broken his heart.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But he will have you now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and it must be my one thought to make up to him for these wretched
+seven months. Do you know, Bessie, he seems more distressed about me
+than about himself. He says I am quite altered, so thin and pale. He
+said it so gravely that I asked him if I had grown too plain for his
+taste; but there&#8212;I don&#8217;t mean to repeat his answer.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He will soon find out that you are as vain as ever.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I actually told him so, for he was so depressed at my changed
+appearance that I had to make one or two mischievous speeches just to
+rouse him, and that did him good; he punished me, though, by pointing
+out some of his gray hairs; but he has really grown handsomer, Bessie.
+Mamma said so, too, though Neville was never really handsome. Poor
+mamma! she is so happy, she has been crying for joy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The dinner-bell rang at that moment, and they were obliged to break off
+their talk. Mr. Sinclair had evidently found Edna&#8217;s absence irksome, for
+he met her with a reproach at her delay; but she answered him so sweetly
+that he was mollified in a moment.</p>
+
+<p>It was the happiest evening Bessie had had since Hatty&#8217;s death; it was
+such a relief to see Edna&#8217;s face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> bright with smiles, and to hear the
+satisfied tones of her voice, and to meet the quiet look of content on
+Mr. Sinclair&#8217;s face. He was not a demonstrative man, and a stranger
+would hardly have thought his manner lover-like, but it was evident that
+he and Edna understood each other perfectly. After dinner he asked her
+to sing for him, and she went to the piano at once.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This is your favorite song, Neville,&#8221; she said, looking at him quietly,
+and a flush of pleasure crossed his face. If he had ever doubted the
+reality of her affection for him, he could not have doubted it to-night,
+when every moment her gentleness and soft, appealing manner seemed to
+plead for forgetfulness of the past, and to hold out a safer promise for
+the future.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I must come and see your mother,&#8221; Bessie heard her say later on. &#8220;Mamma
+thinks of taking rooms for the season, and then I shall see her often;
+shall you like that, Neville?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There is only one thing I should like better,&#8221; he replied, and there
+was a smile on his face as he got up and wished them good-night; and
+then he said something in a low voice to Edna.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well,&#8221; she answered, with a bend of her graceful head, and she
+rose from her seat and walked to the door.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sefton looked after them with an indulgent smile.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>&#8220;He wants a word with her alone; Edna won&#8217;t refuse him anything
+to-night. How happy they are, Bessie! Dear Neville is so satisfied; he
+told me that he was struck with the improvement in Edna; he thinks her
+so much more womanly and so gentle, but he is troubled about her
+delicacy; but she will get better now all this worry is at an end.&#8221; And
+Bessie acquiesced in this.</p>
+
+<p>When Edna came back, a little while afterward, she went straight to her
+mother and knelt down by her chair.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mother dear,&#8221; she said, tenderly, &#8220;Neville has forgiven me, and you
+must forgive me, too.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I forgive you my darling!&#8221; in a startled tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, for being such a bad daughter; but I will be good; indeed, I will
+be good now;&#8221; and, worn out with the emotions of the day, Edna laid her
+head on her mother&#8217;s lap and burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie, touched to the heart by this little display of feeling, went
+softly out of the room, and left the mother and child together.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.<br />
+<br />
+<small>MRS. SEFTON HAS ANOTHER VISITOR.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was impossible for Neville Sinclair to tear himself away from
+Brighton for another twenty-four hours, so he telegraphed to his mother
+and made arrangements to take another day&#8217;s holiday. He settled this
+before he slept that night, and presented himself at Glenyan Mansions
+long before the late breakfast was over. He and Bessie exchanged an
+amused glance as they shook hands, which was instantly detected by Edna,
+and she at once insisted on an explanation.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sinclair laughed mischievously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The fact is,&#8221; he said, &#8220;Miss Lambert and I have met before this
+morning;&#8221; which was the truth, for Bessie had encountered him coming out
+of his hotel, and they had spent a pleasant hour together talking about
+many things; and this conversation had raised Mr. Sinclair very much in
+Bessie&#8217;s estimation, and her interest was warmly reciprocated.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have never had a friend I liked so well as I do Miss Lambert,&#8221; he
+said, as he and Edna were walking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> together. &#8220;She is a genuine
+girl&#8212;absolutely true, and without any pretense or nonsense.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Daisy is a dear little thing, and I am as fond of her as possible. I am
+so glad you like her, Neville,&#8221; and Edna looked very pleased.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sinclair left on the following morning, and in the afternoon Miss
+Shelton arrived. She was a pleasant-looking woman, with a tranquil face
+and silvery-gray hair, and Bessie was prepossessed in her favor at once.
+She was evidently warmly attached to her old pupil, and the news of her
+reconciliation with her lover filled her with unbounded satisfaction,
+and her congratulations were very hearty.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have lived a great many years in the world,&#8221; she said, &#8220;but I have
+never seen two better young men than Mr. Sinclair and Mr. Richard.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They were sitting round the fire in the twilight as Miss Shelton made
+this little speech; they had come in from their drive half an hour ago;
+the tea things had just been taken away, and Edna was sitting on the rug
+at Miss Shelton&#8217;s feet.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They are both admirable,&#8221; she murmured; and this encomium on the absent
+Richard gratified Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think they are to be compared,&#8221; observed Mrs. Sefton, rather
+superciliously. &#8220;My dear Miriam, Neville is infinitely superior. Richard
+has not got Neville&#8217;s brains.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>&#8220;Cleverness is not everything,&#8221; replied Miss Shelton. &#8220;I respect Mr.
+Sinclair, and have the highest opinion of his abilities; but Mr. Richard
+has always been a favorite of mine. Very few people guess how much he
+has in him; but I found it out myself a long time ago.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You and Ritchie were always good friends, dear Miss Shelton. Hush! I
+hear some one in the corridor; it cannot be Neville come back;&#8221; and Edna
+sprung up from her low seat with a heightened color; but as the door
+opened her voice fell. &#8220;No, it is only Ritchie,&#8221; in a disappointed tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whom were you expecting, Edna?&#8221; asked her brother, advancing toward the
+fireside circle. &#8220;Your tone does not sound very promising for me.
+Mother, you see I have taken you by surprise. Miss Shelton, I am
+delighted to see you again. How do you do, Miss Lambert?&#8221; with a swift
+glance in her direction.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie greeted him quietly, and went back to her corner; the surprise
+was a very pleasant one for her. Richard looked well, and more animated
+than usual.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I thought we arranged that you were not to come until to-morrow week,
+Richard,&#8221; observed Mrs. Sefton, in her usual cold manner: and it was
+evident that she was not pleased at her stepson&#8217;s arrival. &#8220;I told you
+particularly Miss Shelton was coming this week.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>&#8220;Oh, yes, I knew Miss Shelton would be here; but Saturday week would not
+have suited me at all. I don&#8217;t mean to put you out, mother. I have taken
+a room at the Grand Hotel. I can have my meals there, too, if you like.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nonsense, Ritchie!&#8221; returned Edna, good-humoredly; &#8220;our dining-room is
+not so small as that. You may have your breakfast at your hotel, and
+then spend the rest of the day with us. Miss Shelton will be delighted
+to have you; she was singing your praises just now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I saw Neville in town this afternoon,&#8221; observed Richard, with a
+significant glance at his sister. &#8220;&#8216;All&#8217;s well that ends well,&#8217; eh,
+Edna? So the comedy of errors is played out.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Come into the other room and I will tell you all about it,&#8221; replied
+Edna, taking hold of his arm in a friendly fashion. &#8220;Mamma, I suppose
+there is enough dinner for Richard, but I don&#8217;t mean to let him go
+away.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Neither do I mean to go,&#8221; added Richard, with a laugh, as he allowed
+himself to be led out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How well he looks! older and nicer, I think,&#8221; observed Miss Shelton, as
+the young people left the room.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you think so?&#8221; replied Mrs. Sefton, indifferently.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> &#8220;Richard is
+always terribly boorish in appearance; and as to his manners, nothing
+will polish them. But what can you expect, when he affects the company
+of farmers? Neville is worth a hundred of him,&#8221; she continued, as she
+rose, with a discontented expression, to give some further orders.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Shelton shook her head in a disapproving fashion.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a mistake,&#8221; she said quietly, &#8220;always to undervalue that poor boy!
+I am glad to see Edna is improved in that respect. He is a great
+favorite of mine, Miss Lambert. I found out he had a kind heart when I
+was in trouble once. As Edna says, we are great friends.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He is very nice,&#8221; agreed Bessie, and then she went to her room to
+prepare for dinner. Yes, she was very glad he had come, though the sight
+of his familiar face had brought back the memory of that last sad day at
+The Grange. They had not met for seven months; how much had happened
+since then!</p>
+
+<p>But when the evening was over, she was obliged to confess that it had
+somehow disappointed her. Richard had said very little to her. Miss
+Shelton had engrossed his conversation; he hardly looked in Bessie&#8217;s
+direction.</p>
+
+<p>When dinner was over, and Edna went to the piano, he placed himself
+beside her; but he did not ask Bessie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> to sing. She sat at her work, and
+tried to think that she was enjoying herself, but she felt left out in
+the cold; she missed the old friendliness in Richard&#8217;s manner; she
+wondered why he did not ask about her home. Could a few months have
+cooled his friendship? When she bade him good-night he hardly looked at
+her; he shook hands far more cordially with Miss Shelton.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie felt chilled and depressed, for she was a faithful little soul,
+and was true to all her likes and dislikes; fickleness to her friends
+was not in her nature; if she liked a person she liked him or her
+always.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is very strange, very disappointing. I think I would rather he had
+not come,&#8221; she thought; &#8220;but perhaps he will be nicer to-morrow;&#8221; and
+with this vague hope she fell asleep.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning she was out at her usual time, and, as before, the
+crisp morning air seemed to dispel all uneasy thoughts; she felt
+brighter, more sanguine and cheerful than she had last night. Nature
+holds a store of comfort for those who love and seek her&#8212;she has all
+sorts of balmy messages to give them; a thousand mellow influences steal
+upon the jaded consciousness; hope is written legibly in the blue sky,
+the clear air, the sunshine; every flower, every leaf is a token of
+love; the birds sing, and, in spite of ourselves, our hearts grow
+lighter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It must have been my fancy,&#8221; thought Bessie; &#8220;I hope I am not growing
+self-conscious;&#8221; and then she gave a little start of surprise, for
+surely she knew that brown tweed coat, and there was Richard coming to
+meet her; and it was with his old pleasant smile that he greeted her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a lovely morning, Miss Lambert! I knew you would be out.&#8221; He had
+expected her then. &#8220;Miss Shelton is an early riser, too, but she never
+walks before breakfast. I wanted to find you alone, and to tell you that
+I was at Cliffe the day before yesterday.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;At Cliffe?&#8221; And Bessie raised her clear eyes to his with such intense
+surprise that Richard laughed a little nervously.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I had some business <a name="there" id="there"></a><ins title="original has no closing quotation mark">there,&#8220;</ins> he began awkwardly, &#8220;and I wanted to
+see your father. I saw them all,&#8221; hesitating, &#8220;except your brother&#8212;he
+has gone back to Oxford; they were very well, and sent their love.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And you saw mother?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; what a nice woman she is! I like her so much, and your father too;
+they were very kind&#8212;kinder than I expected. You are a little like your
+mother&#8212;at least, I saw a sort of likeness. I never felt more at home
+anywhere.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am so glad;&#8221; and Bessie did look glad. He was quite like himself this
+morning; she had got her friend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> back again. &#8220;Did father send me no
+other message?&#8221; she asked presently.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I believe not; at least, I have no recollection of a message. Miss
+Lambert,&#8221; and here Richard&#8217;s manner was decidedly nervous, &#8220;don&#8217;t you
+wonder what my business was at Cliffe?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, no,&#8221; she said, so frankly and innocently that in spite of his
+nervousness Richard could not restrain a smile. &#8220;I suppose there was
+something you wanted.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, <a name="indeed" id="indeed"></a><ins title="original has no closing quotation mark">indeed,&#8221;</ins> he replied promptly, for this remark helped him;
+&#8220;and I wanted it so much that I was obliged to apply to your father.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Could father help you?&#8221; much astonished at this.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He helped me a great deal. I should not be speaking to you now but for
+him. Miss Lambert&#8212;Bessie&#8212;can&#8217;t you guess? It is so hard for me to
+bring it out. Can&#8217;t you guess what it was I wanted from your father? I
+have never wanted anything so much in my life.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Richard&#8217;s manner grew so earnest and imploring, that an idea of his
+meaning flashed across her with a suddenness that made her giddy; but
+she only said very gravely:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I cannot understand unless you speak out.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I speak out, then&#8212;may I tell you plainly what I want? It is
+yourself, Bessie;&#8221; and, in spite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> of his nervousness, Richard spoke a
+few forcible words, very eloquent from their intense earnestness. &#8220;I
+have cared for you all this time, but I would not obtrude myself on your
+trouble; I thought it better to wait.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was very kind, very thoughtful of you,&#8221; replied Bessie, in a low
+voice. And then she added, shyly: &#8220;This is all new to me. I never
+expected this, Mr. Sefton.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was afraid not, from your manner; but, Bessie, for my sake you will
+think of it now. We have been friends, and now you have grown necessary
+to my happiness. I have been very lonely all these years; I shall be
+lonelier than ever if you cannot bring yourself to love me.&#8221; His voice
+was so sad that the tears came to Bessie&#8217;s eyes. She longed to comfort
+him; but how was she to be sure of her own mind?</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will you give me a little time, a few hours to think of it?&#8221; she said
+at last. &#8220;It will not be right to answer you now. Do my mother and
+father know about this?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; he returned eagerly, for her words filled him with hope; she had
+not repulsed him, and her manner, though confused, was as gentle as
+ever. &#8220;They quite approved. You see, I knew you so well that I would not
+have ventured to speak to you without their sanction.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span>&#8220;You were right,&#8221; she said softly; and then she looked at him in a
+beseeching way that made Richard say:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You would like me to leave you alone for a little, would you not?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you please&#8212;that is, if you do not mind.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will go, then. But, Bessie, you will be here to-morrow morning?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will be content with that promise, then,&#8221; and Richard lifted his hat
+and moved away, and Bessie went home.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast was ready when she arrived, and she took her place at once,
+and made an effort to talk as usual. Once Edna made a remark about
+Richard.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have promised to drive him over the downs,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Bessie, Miss
+Shelton wants to do some shopping; do you mind taking charge of her for
+the morning?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Certainly not,&#8221; replied Bessie, who would have given worlds to be
+quiet; but she could not refuse Edna. She was afraid, however, that Miss
+Shelton found her a stupid companion; every now and then her attention
+wandered; she was conscious that a grave decision, one that would affect
+her whole life, was hanging in the balance; she had promised Richard to
+think about it, but no such thought seemed possible.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am tiring you out, my dear,&#8221; observed Miss Shelton at last, &#8220;and it
+must be nearly luncheon time. I dare say Edna has returned from her
+drive.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Yes, Edna was standing in the window when they entered, but Richard was
+not with her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ritchie said he would lunch at his hotel,&#8221; she observed; &#8220;and he is
+going over to Lewes this afternoon, and may be late for dinner; and in
+that case he will have a chop somewhere, as he does not want us to wait
+for him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He will come in afterward, I suppose,&#8221; replied Miss Shelton; but Bessie
+said to herself that he would do no such thing. How thoughtful he was
+for her comfort! He was staying away purposely, that his presence might
+not confuse her; and Bessie felt grateful to him for the delicacy that
+shielded and spared her.</p>
+
+<p>The afternoon was not much better than the morning. Edna carried off
+Miss Shelton to the Aquarium, and left Bessie to drive with her mother;
+and as Mrs. Sefton was very talkative and in excellent spirits, Bessie
+had to maintain her share of the conversation. They found visitors on
+their return, and Bessie had to pour out the tea, and help entertain
+them, as Edna was tired from her exertions.</p>
+
+<p>As she had predicted, Richard never made his appearance at all, although
+Miss Shelton and Edna both<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> expected him, and indulged in wondering
+comments on his prolonged absence. Bessie found her position unbearable
+at last, and she made an excuse to retire early to her room. She gave a
+sigh of relief when she closed the door.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;At last I can think,&#8221; she said to herself, as she drew her chair to the
+fire.</p>
+
+<p>How was she to answer Richard to-morrow? But even as she asked herself
+the question she knew she had her answer ready. True, he had taken her
+by surprise; she had never suspected that this was his meaning. Bessie&#8217;s
+unconsciousness, her humble estimate of herself, had blinded her to the
+truth. She hardly knew herself how much he was to her until his words
+had broken the spell; but now there was no room for doubt. She respected
+him; he had claimed her sympathy long ago, and now he had won her love.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, if only my Hatty knew!&#8221; were her last thoughts that night, after
+she had finished her thanksgiving for the new blessing that had come
+into her life; and though she was still tremulous and confused with
+happiness, she quieted herself with a few childlike prayers, and soon
+slept soundly.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie felt a little nervous as she left the house the next morning, but
+she tried not to think of herself. Richard was waiting for her on the
+Parade.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> One glance at him banished her nervousness; he looked pale and
+anxious, as though he had not slept, but he made an effort to smile as
+he held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is there any hope for me, Bessie?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; she said simply, as she left her hand in his; and Richard needed
+no further answer.</p>
+
+<p>It was a bright, peaceful hour that followed, as they walked side by
+side, looking at the shining sea and speaking of the dim future that lay
+before them.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was afraid you were too good for me, Bessie,&#8221; Richard said, bye and
+bye, when he had exhausted his gratitude a little. &#8220;Sometimes I used to
+lose hope. &#8216;She will never care for such a rough fellow,&#8217; I often said
+to myself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You must not speak against yourself now,&#8221; returned Bessie shyly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, dear, for you have promised to take me just as I am, and that would
+make any fellow think more of himself. Bessie, you must not mind if my
+mother is not quite pleased at first; she is an ambitious woman, and her
+notions are very different from mine.&#8221; Bessie did not answer for a
+moment, and her silence seemed to alarm Richard.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She is only my stepmother; I am my own master, Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know,&#8221; in a low voice. &#8220;I was thinking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> about that last night. I
+am afraid she will not like it, and it troubles me a little. We are not
+rich, and&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What does that matter?&#8221; with a touch of impatience. &#8220;I thought you were
+free from that sort of nonsense, Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It does not matter to us,&#8221; replied Bessie, with a slight emphasis on
+the &#8220;us&#8221; that was exquisite to Richard&#8217;s ear. &#8220;I am only speaking of
+Mrs. Sefton; but she is not your own mother, and she has never made you
+happy, and she has no right to prevent you pleasing yourself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is spoken like a sensible girl. I must thank you for that speech.
+Your father said much the same thing to me. &#8216;You are your own master,&#8217;
+he remarked, &#8216;and your stepmother has no right to control your choice;
+but, knowing her as I do, she will not be pleased.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will tell her as soon as possible, will you not&#8212;and Edna, too?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will tell them this morning. You must leave everything to me. You
+shall be subjected to no unpleasantness that I can prevent. And, Bessie,
+I am going to take you down to Cliffe. I have made my mind up to that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well,&#8221; she said, with a smile. And it was a new thing for Richard
+to assert himself and meet with no contradiction; and as he looked at
+the girl beside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> him, and met her clear, candid glance, his heart
+swelled within him for very gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is getting late; we must go home now,&#8221; observed Bessie, wondering a
+little at his sudden silence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, we will go home,&#8221; he replied, rousing himself. &#8220;I was just
+thinking, dear, what life will mean to me when I have you beside me.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#contents">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.<br />
+<br />
+<small>IN THE COOMBE WOODS.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Breakfast</span> was a more difficult affair than it had been on the preceding
+morning, and Edna, who was very quick-witted, soon saw there was
+something amiss with Bessie; but she was a kind-hearted girl, and she
+threw herself with such animation into the conversation that Bessie&#8217;s
+silence was unnoticed.</p>
+
+<p>When the meal was finished Bessie withdrew to her room, and Edna would
+have followed her, but just then Richard came in, and begged her in a
+low voice to get rid of Miss Shelton for half an hour, as he wanted to
+speak to her and her mother; and then in a moment Edna guessed the
+truth.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie remained a long time alone. She had finished her letter to her
+mother, and had just taken up her work, before Edna came in search of
+her.</p>
+
+<p>Edna looked excited, and there were tears in her eyes as she kissed
+Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You naughty little thing!&#8221; she said, trying to laugh. &#8220;Who ever would
+have thought of you and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> Ritchie falling in love with each other? I
+don&#8217;t think I have ever been more surprised in my life.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I was surprised, too,&#8221; replied Bessie na&iuml;vely. &#8220;Dear Edna, are you very
+much shocked?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not at all. On the whole, I am very much pleased at the idea of having
+you as a sister. I fell in love with you myself, Bessie. I told Ritchie
+that, so I ought not to be so surprised that he has followed my example.
+I am not quite sure that he is good enough for you. I suppose you think
+he is,&#8221; doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed. It is I who am not good enough for him,&#8221; replied Bessie,
+blushing, and looking so pretty that Edna hugged her again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are very kind to me, Edna, but I am afraid your mother will not be
+pleased about this;&#8221; and then Edna&#8217;s face grew somewhat grave.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, Bessie, she is not; and she is very hard upon poor Richard, as
+usual, and I had to take his part. Mamma is very proud, and that is why
+she approved so much of Neville, because he belongs to county people and
+is his uncle&#8217;s heir. Neville will be terribly rich one day.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And I am poor!&#8221; in a troubled voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, but Richard has plenty of money, and, as I tell mamma, I cannot
+see what that matters. You are a lady, Bessie; your mother is a perfect
+gentlewoman; and as for Dr. Lambert, mamma knows what he is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span>&#8212;she cannot
+say a word against him. She says she is very fond of you personally, but
+all the same she does not want Richard to marry you. You see,&#8221;
+hesitating a little, &#8220;mamma will have to leave The Grange when Ritchie
+marries, and she does not like the idea of that; but, as Richard justly
+said, his father hoped he would marry early, and he had a right, like
+any other man, to take a wife when he wishes. Of course, mamma has not a
+grain of right on her side, but she chooses to be angry with Richard
+because he has been down to Cliffe and settled everything without
+reference to her; she says it is the way he always treats her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I will go to your mother, Edna. Is&#8212;is your brother with her?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I believe so; but they are not talking now. Ritchie sent me to
+you. Must you go, Bessie, dear? mamma will not be a bit nice to you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I cannot help that; but I am as much to blame as your brother is, and I
+shall not leave him to bear the brunt of it all.&#8221; And though Bessie
+looked a little pale as she said this, she carried out her resolve much
+to Mrs. Sefton&#8217;s astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>Richard met her at once, and took her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have told my mother, Bessie,&#8221; he said, in a clear, high voice that
+was a little defiant.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know now, when everything is arranged,&#8221; returned Mrs. Sefton, in
+an injured tone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dear Mrs. Sefton,&#8221; said Bessie gently, &#8220;nothing was settled until this
+morning. Mr. Sefton took me by surprise yesterday, and I was hardly
+prepared. Indeed, I had no answer to give him until this morning, so not
+an hour has been lost.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My mother knows all that,&#8221; interrupted Richard, &#8220;but I cannot convince
+her no offence is intended. Mother, I think you might give Bessie a
+kinder reception; she has promised to marry me, and I think my future
+wife should be treated with consideration and respect.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, no; how can you talk so?&#8221; interrupted Bessie, for the young man
+spoke in a fiery manner. &#8220;Mrs. Sefton, please don&#8217;t listen to him. You
+shall treat me as you will; but I shall always remember how good you
+have been to me. Of course you are not pleased with a poor girl like me;
+but you will be kind to me all the same&#8212;will you not? and I will try to
+follow all your wishes. It is not your son&#8217;s fault either,&#8221; very shyly,
+but trying to speak out bravely, &#8220;for he could not help caring for me, I
+suppose. Do, do try to forgive us both, and be kind to him.&#8221; And here
+Bessie faltered and broke down.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing could have been better than Bessie&#8217;s little impetuous speech.
+Mrs. Sefton was a proud, ambitious woman, but she was not wholly without
+feelings, and she had always been fond of Bessie. The girl&#8217;s sweetness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span>
+and humility, her absence of all assumption, the childlike way in which
+she threw herself upon her womanly kindness, touched Mrs. Sefton&#8217;s cold
+heart, and she kissed the wet, flushed cheek.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t cry, Bessie. I suppose as things are settled we must just make
+the best of them. Richard put me out, and I said more than I meant. I
+was not pleased. I think I ought to have been consulted at least, not
+left so wholly in the dark.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am very sorry, mother, but you have never invited my confidence,&#8221;
+replied Richard; but his lips quivered as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes; but you will be kinder to him now,&#8221; and Bessie looked imploringly
+at her; &#8220;indeed, he has always loved you, but you have repelled him so.
+Richard,&#8221; very softly, &#8220;will you not tell your mother that you mean to
+be good to her?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sefton looked up, and her eyes met her stepson&#8217;s. &#8220;It was not my
+fault, mother,&#8221; he said, with suppressed emotion.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie thought that he was speaking of their engagement, but Richard&#8217;s
+words conveyed a different meaning to his stepmother&#8217;s ears. He was
+going back to the past. Again he saw himself a shy, nervous boy,
+standing before the proud, handsome girl who had just become his
+father&#8217;s wife. &#8220;He can never be anything to me,&#8221; he heard her say; and
+her low, bitter tones<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> lingered long in his ears. &#8220;If I had known of his
+existence it might have been different; but now&#8212;&#8221; and she turned away
+with a gesture of dislike.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ritchie, my boy, you must ask this lady to forgive us both,&#8221; his father
+had observed, rather sadly.</p>
+
+<p>How well Richard remembered that little scene! the discomfited
+expression of his father&#8217;s face; his own puzzled, childish feelings. All
+these years he had suffered the consequences of his father&#8217;s rash act.
+&#8220;He can never be anything to me,&#8221; she had said, and her words had come
+true.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mother, it was not my fault,&#8221; he said, looking into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>And for the first time she quailed before that sad, reproachful gaze; it
+seemed to compel her to acknowledge the truth. &#8220;No, Richard; it was your
+father&#8217;s; it was he who estranged us,&#8221; she returned slowly. &#8220;I was not
+the woman to forgive deceit. I wish&#8212;I wish things could have been
+different.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They shall be different,&#8221; he replied gently, &#8220;if you will have it so,
+mother; it is not too late yet;&#8221; and though she did not answer, and
+there was no response to that burst of generous feeling, there was
+something in her face that gave Richard hope; neither did she repulse
+him when he stooped over her and kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Try to make the best of me,&#8221; he said; and Mrs. Sefton sighed, and left
+her hand in his.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span>Richard took Bessie out with him after that. He was agitated and
+dispirited by the interview with his stepmother, and needed all the
+comfort Bessie could give him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is very hard to bear,&#8221; were his first words, when he found himself
+alone with her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, it is very hard,&#8221; she replied gently; &#8220;but you behaved so well it
+made me so proud to hear you;&#8221; and Richard felt a glow of satisfaction
+at her words.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You were beside me, helping me all the time,&#8221; he said simply. &#8220;Bessie,
+if you only knew what it is to me to be sure of your sympathy. My little
+blessing, I think you were born to be a peacemaker. It was you who
+softened my mother&#8217;s heart; before you came in she was so hard, and said
+such bitter things, and then I lost my temper, and&#8212;&#8212;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do not go back to that,&#8221; she said quietly. &#8220;Your mother was taken by
+surprise. She said herself that she spoke hastily. Let us give her time.
+She cannot alter her nature all at once. You have been very patient a
+long time, Richard; be patient still for my sake.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There is nothing I would not do for your sake,&#8221; he replied; and Bessie
+was pleased to see him smile.</p>
+
+<p>After all, it was not difficult to comfort him; the cloud soon passed
+away from his face, and in a little while they were talking as happily
+together as though no unkind words had been said.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span>They had a quiet, peaceful Sunday together, and then Richard went back
+to Oatlands, on the understanding that he was to return on Wednesday
+night and take Bessie down to Cliffe the next day.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was not sorry to be left alone for two days to realize her own
+happiness; but, all the same, she was glad to welcome him back again on
+Wednesday, though she was secretly amused when Richard declared those
+two days of absence had been intolerably long; still she liked to hear
+him say it.</p>
+
+<p>It was a happy evening to Bessie when she saw Richard for the first time
+in her own dear home, making one of the family circle, and looking as
+though he had been there for years. How kindly they had all greeted him!
+She saw by her mother&#8217;s expression how pleased and excited she was. She
+took the young man under her motherly wing at once, and petted and made
+much of him; and it was easy to see how proud her father was of his
+son-in-law elect. Bessie thought she had never seen Richard to such
+advantage before. There was no awkwardness in his manner; he was alert,
+cheerful, and at his ease, ready to talk to Christine or to the younger
+girls, and full of delicate little attentions to his <em>fianc&#233;e</em>.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A fine, manly fellow!&#8221; observed Dr. Lambert, as he wished his daughter
+good-night. &#8220;You have won a prize, my girl; I am perfectly satisfied
+with my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> future son-in-law,&#8221; and Bessie blushed and smiled over her
+father&#8217;s encomium.</p>
+
+<p>But the most comfortable moment was when she had her mother to herself,
+for Mrs. Lambert had stolen upstairs after Bessie.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, mother, this is what I wanted,&#8221; she said, drawing her mother down
+into the low chair beside the fire, and kneeling on the rug beside her.
+&#8220;How good of you to come up to me! I was so longing for a talk.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think your father wanted Mr. Sefton to himself, so I left them
+together.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You must call him Richard,&#8221; corrected Bessie; &#8220;he wants you to do so.
+It was so nice to see him with you to-night; he will never want a mother
+now. You like him, do you not?&#8221; rather shyly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, indeed; we all like him; there is something so genuine about him.
+My darling, I have not felt so happy since our poor Hatty&#8217;s death.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think she would have been pleased about this, mother; it is the one
+drop of bitterness in my cup of happiness that her congratulations are
+missing. You were all so dear and kind to me, and to Richard, too; but I
+missed my Hatty;&#8221; and Bessie leaned against her mother&#8217;s shoulder, and
+shed a few quiet tears.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think I must tell you something,&#8221; returned her mother soothingly.
+&#8220;Dear little Hatty used to talk in the strangest way sometimes. One
+night when she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> had been very ill, and I was sitting beside her, she
+told me that she had had such a funny dream about you&#8212;that you and Mr.
+Sefton were going to be married, and that she had seen you dressed in
+white, and looking so happy, and then she said very wistfully,
+&#8216;Supposing my dream should come true, mother, and our Bessie really
+married him, how nice that would be!&#8217; and she would speak of it more
+than once, until I was obliged to remind her that I never cared to talk
+of such subjects, and that I did not like my girls to talk of them,
+either. &#8216;But, all the same, mother, Bessie will not be an old maid,&#8217; she
+persisted, with such a funny little smile, and then she left off to
+please me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How strange!&#8221; replied Bessie thoughtfully. &#8220;I must tell Richard that;
+he was so kind about Hatty. Mother, is it not nice to be able to tell
+some one all one&#8217;s thoughts, and be sure of their interest? That is how
+I begin to feel about Richard. He is always so kind and patient, and
+ready to hear everything, and he never laughs nor turn things into fun,
+as Tom does; and he is so clever; he knows things of which I am quite
+ignorant;&#8221; and Bessie rambled on in an innocent, girlish way of her
+lover&#8217;s perfections, while her mother listened with a smile, remembering
+her own young days.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She is very simple,&#8221; she said to her husband that night; &#8220;she thinks
+only of him; she does not seem to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> remember that he is rich, and that
+one day she will be mistress of The Grange. That is so like our Bessie;
+she always goes to the heart of things.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am very much pleased with him,&#8221; replied Dr. Lambert; &#8220;he is just as
+unsophisticated in his way as Bessie is in hers. You would have liked to
+have heard him, Dora. He seems to think there is no one like her. &#8216;She
+is worth a dozen of me,&#8217; he said; and he meant it, too.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Richard spent several days at Cliffe, and they were golden days to him
+and Bessie. On the last evening they went out together, for in the
+Lamberts&#8217; crowded household there was little quiet for the lovers, and
+Richard had pleaded for one more walk. &#8220;I shall not see you for six
+whole weeks,&#8221; he said disconsolately; and, as usual, Bessie yielded to
+his wishes.</p>
+
+<p>They climbed up by the quarry into the Coombe Woods, and walked through
+the long, green alleys that seemed to stretch into space. The Coombe
+Woods were a favorite trysting-place for young couples, and many a
+village lad and lass carried on their rustic courtship there. The trees
+were leafless now, but the February sky was soft and blue, and the birds
+were twittering of the coming spring.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And Edna is to be married in June,&#8221; observed Bessie, breaking the
+silence. &#8220;I am glad Mrs. Sefton has given her consent.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span>&#8220;I suppose they gave her no option,&#8221; replied Richard. &#8220;I knew when
+Sinclair went down on Saturday that he would settle something. Edna
+would not be likely to refuse him anything just now. You will have to be
+her bridesmaid, Bessie, so I am sure of some rides with you in June.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dear old Whitefoot! I shall be glad to mount him again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I shall get you a better horse before next winter. Whitefoot is growing
+old. Bessie, I ought not to be dissatisfied when you have been so good
+to me; but do you not think it would be possible to induce your father
+to change his mind?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie did not pretend to misunderstand his meaning; she only said
+gently:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, Richard; and I do not think it would be right to ask him;&#8221; and then
+she added, &#8220;You know dear Hatty will only have been dead a year.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I see what you mean,&#8221; he replied slowly, &#8220;and I must not be
+selfish; but next October is a long time to wait, Bessie.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It will not seem so,&#8221; she answered brightly, &#8220;and we must not hurry
+your mother; there will be Edna&#8217;s marriage in June, and my visit to The
+Grange, and every now and then you will come here.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and there will be my mother to settle in her new house&#8212;you see
+what Edna says in her letter, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> they have decided not to separate;
+that means that my mother will take a house at Kensington. Well, I dare
+say that will be for the best; but when my mother goes The Grange will
+want its mistress.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It will not want her long,&#8221; she said very gently, &#8220;and Richard, dear,
+you have promised not to be impatient. Mother is not ready to part with
+me yet. I shall not like to think of you being lonely in that big house;
+but it will not be for long.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And, after all, I shall not be lonely,&#8221; he returned, for he was not to
+be outdone in unselfishness. &#8220;I shall be getting the house ready for
+you, and the new mare. Oh, and there will be a hundred things to do, and
+in the evenings I shall talk to Mac about his new mistress, and he will
+look up in my face with his wise, deep-set eyes, as though he understood
+every word, and was as glad as I was that October would soon come.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Poor old Mac!&#8221; she exclaimed; and there was a soft color in her face as
+she interrupted him. &#8220;You must give him a pat from me, and to all the
+dear dogs&#8212;Leo, and Gelert, and Brand, and Bill Sykes&#8212;we must not
+forget Bill Sykes&#8212;and Tim, and Spot; and tell them&#8212;&#8221; And then she
+stopped and looked at him with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What shall I tell them?&#8221; he asked coaxingly; &#8220;that you will be glad
+too, when October comes?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;If you like,&#8221; she answered quietly, &#8220;you may tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> them that; but,
+Richard, when I think of the future, it is all like a dream. I cannot
+imagine that the dear old Grange is to be my home.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You will find it very real,&#8221; he replied. &#8220;Think what walks we shall
+have on Sunday afternoons, with Bill Sykes and his companions; and when
+you go into the drawing-room to make tea, Tim and Spot will not be left
+outside.&#8221;</p>
+
+
+<p>&#8220;Wait a moment, Richard look at that sunset;&#8221; and Bessie pointed to the
+western heavens, which were bathed in a glow of golden light. They had
+reached the end of the wood; a wide stretch of country lay before them.
+How still and quiet it was! even the birds&#8217; twitterings had ceased.
+Bessie&#8217;s eyes grew soft and wistful; the sunset glories had reminded her
+of Hatty in her far-off home.</p>
+
+<p>Down below them lay the bay, like a sea of glass mingled with fire.
+&#8220;Thank God, all is well with my Hatty!&#8221; she thought; and then she turned
+to Richard with a gentle smile, and they went slowly back through the
+wood again, talking quietly of the days that were to be.</p>
+
+
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+
+
+
+
+<div id="tn">
+<p class="tntext center mt"><strong>Transcriber&#8217;s Note:</strong></p>
+
+<hr class="hrtn" />
+
+<p class="tntext">Changes to the original publication have been made as follows:</p>
+
+<ul>
+<li>The <a href="#Oatlands">Oatland</a> Post-mark <em>changed to</em>
+    The <span class="u">Oatlands</span> Post-mark</li>
+
+<li>&#8220;I am sure I don&#8217;t <a href="#comma">know</a>&#8221; returned <em>changed to</em>
+    &#8220;I am sure I don&#8217;t <span class="u">know,</span>&#8221; returned</li>
+
+<li>in ice in <a href="#Arctic">Artic</a> <em>changed to</em>
+    in ice in <span class="u">Arctic</span></li>
+
+<li>I <a href="#dont">dont</a> think Aunt <em>changed to</em>
+    I <span class="u">don&#8217;t</span> think Aunt</li>
+
+<li>proudly to show her <a href="#treasure">treassure</a> <em>changed to</em>
+    proudly to show her <span class="u">treasure</span></li>
+
+<li><a href="#manners">manners</a> My Bessie is <em>changed to</em>
+    <span class="u">manners.</span> My Bessie is</li>
+
+<li><a href="#embarrassed">embarrased</a> manner <em>changed to</em>
+    <span class="u">embarrassed</span> manner</li>
+
+<li>live anywhere <a href="#else">else?</a>&#8221; <em>changed to</em>
+    live anywhere <span class="u">else!</span>&#8221;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#intellect">inintellect</a>, of art <em>changed to</em>
+    <span class="u">intellect</span>, of art</li>
+
+<li>then her mother dotes on <a href="#her">her.</a> <em>changed to</em>
+    then her mother dotes on <span class="u">her.&#8221;</span></li>
+
+<li>&#8220;You may come in if you like, old <a href="#fellow">fellow.</a> <em>changed to</em>
+    &#8220;You may come in if you like, old <span class="u">fellow.&#8221;</span></li>
+
+<li><a href="#Hatty">Hatty!</a> Oh, you mean the little <em>changed to</em>
+    <span class="u">&#8220;Hatty!</span> Oh, you mean the little</li>
+
+<li><a href="#but">but</a> for my part I think him <em>changed to</em>
+    <span class="u">&#8220;but</span> for my part I think him</li>
+
+<li>but <a href="#I_can">I I can</a> imagine what a <em>changed to</em>
+    but <span class="u">I can</span> imagine what a</li>
+
+<li>muff, but the man <a href="#he">be</a> has <em>changed to</em>
+    muff, but the man <span class="u">he</span> has</li>
+
+<li>he returned <a href="#hastily">hastiiy</a> <em>changed to</em>
+    he returned <span class="u">hastily</span></li>
+
+<li><a href="#stepmother">step-mother</a> was young, and did not <em>changed to</em>
+    <span class="u">stepmother</span> was young, and did not</li>
+
+<li><a href="#I_go">I go</a> there very often because <em>changed to</em>
+    <span class="u">&#8216;I go</span> there very often because</li>
+
+<li>and the <a href="#heroines">heorines</a> have <em>changed to</em>
+    and the <span class="u">heroines</span> have</li>
+
+<li>observed Bessie <a href="#anxiously">anxiously</a> <em>changed to</em>
+    observed Bessie <span class="u">anxiously.</span></li>
+
+<li>What a <a href="#terrific">terriffic</a> clap! <em>changed to</em>
+    What a <span class="u">terrific</span> clap!</li>
+
+<li>effort to come, if only for my <a href="#sake">sake.&#8217;</a> <em>changed to</em>
+    effort to come, if only for my <span class="u">sake.</span></li>
+
+<li>is quite well,&#8221; he <a href="#continued">continueed</a> coldly <em>changed to</em>
+    is quite well,&#8221; he <span class="u">continued</span> coldly</li>
+
+<li><a href="#Your">You</a> father will find that <em>changed to</em>
+    <span class="u">Your</span> father will find that</li>
+
+<li>&#8220;I had some business <a href="#there">there,</a> he began awkwardly <em>changed to</em>
+    &#8220;I had some business <span class="u">there,&#8221;</span> he began awkwardly</li>
+
+<li>&#8220;Yes, <a href="#indeed">indeed,</a> he replied promptly <em>changed to</em>
+    &#8220;Yes, <span class="u">indeed,&#8221;</span> he replied promptly</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Bessie, by Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR BESSIE ***
+
+***** This file should be named 28651-h.htm or 28651-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/6/5/28651/
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/28651-h/images/cover.jpg b/28651-h/images/cover.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1d52737
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28651-h/images/cover.jpg
diff --git a/28651-h/images/frontis.jpg b/28651-h/images/frontis.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f5580e5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28651-h/images/frontis.jpg
diff --git a/28651-h/images/logo.png b/28651-h/images/logo.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2656219
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28651-h/images/logo.png
diff --git a/28651.txt b/28651.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..616eb00
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28651.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,8722 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Bessie, by Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Our Bessie
+
+Author: Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+Release Date: May 1, 2009 [EBook #28651]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR BESSIE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "HOW GOOD OF YOU TO COME!" SHE EXCLAIMED. BESSIE SAW SHE
+HAD BEEN CRYING.]
+
+
+
+
+    OUR BESSIE
+
+    BY
+
+    ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY
+
+    AUTHOR OF "MERLE'S CRUSADE," "NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS,"
+    "ONLY THE GOVERNESS," ETC.
+
+    THE MERSHON COMPANY
+
+    RAHWAY, N. J.    NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                           PAGE
+
+    CHAPTER I.
+    BESSIE MEETS WITH AN ADVENTURE            1
+
+    CHAPTER II.
+    "HERE IS OUR BESSIE"                     16
+
+    CHAPTER III.
+    HATTY                                    31
+
+    CHAPTER IV.
+    A COSY MORNING                           46
+
+    CHAPTER V.
+    THE OATLANDS POST-MARK                   61
+
+    CHAPTER VI.
+    LITTLE MISS MUCH-AFRAID                  74
+
+    CHAPTER VII.
+    IN THE KENTISH LANES                     87
+
+    CHAPTER VIII.
+    AT THE GRANGE                           101
+
+    CHAPTER IX.
+    RICHARD SEFTON                          115
+
+    CHAPTER X.
+    BESSIE IS INTRODUCED TO BILL SYKES      129
+
+    CHAPTER XI.
+    EDNA HAS A GRIEVANCE                    148
+
+    CHAPTER XII.
+    THE FIRST SUNDAY AT THE GRANGE          156
+
+    CHAPTER XIII.
+    WHITEFOOT IN REQUISITION                171
+
+    CHAPTER XIV.
+    BESSIE SNUBS A HERO                     183
+
+    CHAPTER XV.
+    "SHE WILL NOT COME"                     197
+
+    CHAPTER XVI.
+    A NOTE FROM HATTY                       209
+
+    CHAPTER XVII.
+    "TROUBLE MAY COME TO ME ONE DAY"        222
+
+    CHAPTER XVIII.
+    "FAREWELL, NIGHT"                       236
+
+    CHAPTER XIX.
+    "I MUST NOT THINK OF MYSELF"            249
+
+    CHAPTER XX.
+    "BESSIE'S SECOND FLITTING"              263
+
+    CHAPTER XXI.
+    ON THE PARADE                           276
+
+    CHAPTER XXII.
+    BESSIE BUYS A JAPANESE FAN              289
+
+    CHAPTER XXIII.
+    MRS. SEFTON HAS ANOTHER VISITOR         303
+
+    CHAPTER XXIV.
+    IN THE COOMBE WOODS                     318
+
+
+
+
+OUR BESSIE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+BESSIE MEETS WITH AN ADVENTURE.
+
+
+It was extremely tiresome!
+
+It was vexatious; it was altogether annoying!
+
+Most people under similar circumstances would have used stronger
+expressions, would have bemoaned themselves loudly, or at least
+inwardly, with all the pathos of self-pity.
+
+To be nearly at the end of one's journey, almost within sight and sound
+of home fires and home welcomes, and then to be snowed up, walled,
+imprisoned, kept in durance vile in an unexpected snowdrift--well, most
+human beings, unless gifted with angelic patience, and armed with
+special and peculiar fortitude, would have uttered a few groans under
+such depressing circumstances.
+
+Fortunately, Bessie Lambert was not easily depressed. She was a cheerful
+young person, an optimist by nature; and, thanks to a healthy
+organization, good digestion, and wholesome views of duty, was not
+given to mental nightmares, nor to cry out before she was hurt.
+
+Bessie would have thought it faint-hearted to shrink at every little
+molehill of difficulty; she had plenty of what the boys call pluck (no
+word is more eloquent than that), and a fund of quiet humor that tided
+her safely over many a slough of despond. If any one could have read
+Bessie's thoughts a few minutes after the laboring engine had ceased to
+work, they would have been as follows, with little staccato movements
+and pauses:
+
+"What an adventure! How Tom would laugh, and Katie too! Katie is always
+longing for something to happen to her; but it would be more enjoyable
+if I had some one with me to share it, and if I were sure father and
+mother would not be anxious. An empty second-class compartment is not a
+particularly comfortable place on a cold afternoon. I wonder how it
+would be if all the passengers were to get out and warm themselves with
+a good game of snowballing. There is not much room, though; we should
+have to play it in a single file, or by turns. Supposing that, instead
+of that, the nice, white-haired old gentleman who got in at the last
+station were to assemble us all in the third-class carriage and tell us
+a story about Siberia; that would be nice and exciting. Tom would
+suggest a ghost story, a good creepy one; but that would be too dismal.
+The hot-water tin is getting cold, but I have got a rug, I am thankful
+to say, so I shall not freeze for the next two hours. If I had only a
+book, or could go to sleep--oh!" in a tone of relief, as the guard's
+face was suddenly thrust in at the open window.
+
+"I beg your pardon, miss; I hope I did not startle you; but there is a
+young lady in the first-class compartment who, I take it, would be the
+better for a bit of company; and as I saw you were alone, I thought you
+might not object to change your carriage."
+
+"No, indeed; I shall be delighted to have a companion," returned Bessie
+briskly. "How long do you think we shall be detained here, guard?"
+
+"There is no knowing, miss; but one of our men is working his way back
+to the signals. We have not come more than three miles since we left
+Cleveley. It is only a bit of a drift that the snow-plow will soon
+clear, and it will be a matter of two or three hours, I dare say; but it
+has left off snowing now."
+
+"Will they telegraph to Cliffe the reason of the delay?" asked Bessie, a
+little anxiously.
+
+"Oh, yes, they will do that right enough; you needn't be uneasy. The
+other young lady is in a bit of a fuss, too, but I told her there was no
+danger. Give a good jump, miss; there, now you are all right. I will
+take care of your things. Follow me, please; it is only a step or so."
+
+"This is more of an adventure than ever," thought Bessie, as she
+followed the big, burly guard. "What a kind man he is! Perhaps he has
+daughters of his own." And she thanked him so warmly and so prettily as
+he almost lifted her into the carriage, that he muttered, as he turned
+away:
+
+"That's a nice, pleasant little woman. I like that sort."
+
+The first-class compartment felt warm and snug. Its only tenant was a
+fair, pretty-looking girl, dressed very handsomely in a mantle trimmed
+with costly fur, and a fur-lined rug over her knees.
+
+"Oh, thank you! How good of you to come!" she exclaimed eagerly; and
+Bessie saw at once that she had been crying. "I was feeling so
+frightened and miserable all by myself. I got it into my head that
+another train would run into us, and I was quite in a panic until the
+guard assured me there was no danger. He told me that there was another
+young lady alone, and that he would bring her to me."
+
+"Yes, that was so nice of him; and of course it is pleasanter to be able
+to speak to somebody," returned Bessie cheerfully; "and it is so much
+warmer here."
+
+"Take some of my rug; I do not need it all myself; and we may as well be
+as comfortable as we can, under the miserable circumstances."
+
+"Well, do you know I think it might be worse?"
+
+"Worse! how can you talk so?" with a shudder.
+
+"Why, it can hardly be a great hardship to sit for another two hours in
+this nice warm carriage, with this beautiful rug to cover us. It
+certainly was a little dull and cold in the other compartment, and I
+longed to get out and have a game of snowballing to warm myself." But
+here her companion gave a little laugh.
+
+"What a funny idea! How could you think of such a thing?" And here she
+looked, for the first time, rather scrutinizingly at Bessie. Oh, yes,
+she was a lady--she spoke nicely and had good manners; but how very
+shabbily she was dressed--at least, not shabbily; that was not the right
+word--inexpensively would have been the correct term.
+
+Bessie's brown tweed had evidently seen more seasons than one; her
+jacket fitted the trim figure, but was not made in the last fashion; and
+the brown velvet on her hat was decidedly worn. How was the young lady
+to know that Bessie was wearing her oldest things from a sense of
+economy, and that her new jacket and best hat--a very pretty one--were
+in the neat black box in the luggage-van?
+
+Certainly the two girls were complete opposites. Bessie, who, as her
+brother Tom often told her, was no beauty, was, notwithstanding, a
+bright, pleasant-looking girl, with soft gray eyes that could express a
+great deal of quiet sympathy on occasions, or could light up with fun.
+People who loved her always said Bessie's face was better than a
+beautiful one, for it told nothing but the truth about itself. It did
+not say, "Come, admire me," as some faces say, but, "Come, trust me if
+you can."
+
+The fashionably dressed young stranger had a very different type of
+face. In the first place, it was undeniably pretty; no one ever thought
+of contradicting that fact, though a few people might have thought it a
+peculiar style of beauty, for she had dark-brown eyes and fair
+hair--rather an uncommon combination.
+
+She was small, too, and very pale, and yet not fragile-looking; on the
+contrary, she had a clear look of health, but there was a petulant curve
+about the mouth that spoke of quick temper, and the whole face seemed
+capable of great mobility, quick changes of feeling that were perfectly
+transparent.
+
+Bessie was quite aware that her new acquaintance was taking stock of
+her; she was quietly amused, but she took no apparent notice.
+
+"Is Cliffe-on-Sea your destination?" she asked presently.
+
+"No; is it yours?" with a quick note of alarm in her voice. "Oh, I am so
+sorry!" as Bessie nodded. "I hoped we should have travelled together to
+London. I do dislike travelling alone, but my friend was too ill to
+accompany me, and I did not want to stay at Islip another day; it was
+such a stupid place, so dull; so I said I must come, and this is the
+result."
+
+"And you are going to London? Why, your journey is but just beginning.
+Cliffe-on-Sea is where I live, and we cannot be more than two miles off.
+Oh, what will you do if we are detained here for two or three hours?"
+
+"I am sure I don't know," returned the other girl disconsolately, and
+her eyes filled with tears again. "It is nearly five now, and it will
+be too late to go on to London; but I dare not stay at a hotel by
+myself. What will mamma say? She will be dreadfully vexed with me for
+not waiting for Mrs. Moultrie--she never will let me travel alone, and
+I have disobeyed her."
+
+"That is a great pity," returned Bessie gravely; but politeness forbade
+her to say more. She was old-fashioned enough to think that disobedience
+to parents was a heinous offence. She did not understand the present
+code, that allows young people to set up independent standards of duty.
+To her the fifth commandment was a very real commandment, and just as
+binding in the nineteenth century as when the young dwellers in tents
+first listened to it under the shadow of the awful Mount.
+
+Bessie's gravely disapproving look brought a mocking little smile to the
+other girl's face; her quick comprehension evidently detected the
+rebuke, but she only answered flippantly:
+
+"Mamma is too much used to my disobedience to give it a thought; she
+knows I will have my way in things, and she never minds; she is sensible
+enough to know grown-up girls generally have wills of their own."
+
+"I think I must have been brought up differently," returned Bessie
+simply. "I recollect in our nursery days mother used to tell us that
+little bodies ought not to have grown-up wills; and when we got older,
+and wanted to get the reins in our own hands, as young people will, she
+would say, 'Gently, gently, girls; you may be grown up, but you will
+never be as old as your parents--'" But here Bessie stopped, on seeing
+that her companion was struggling with suppressed merriment.
+
+"It does sound so funny, don't you know! Oh, I don't mean to be rude,
+but are not your people just a little bit old-fashioned and behind the
+times? I don't want to shock you; I am far too grateful for your
+company. Mamma and I thoroughly understand each other. I am very fond of
+her, and I am as sorry as possible to vex her by getting into this
+mess;" and here the girl heaved a very genuine sigh.
+
+"And you live in London?" Bessie was politely changing the subject.
+
+"Oh, no; but we have some friends there, and I was going to break my
+journey and do a little shopping. Our home is in Kent; we live at
+Oatlands--such a lovely, quiet little place--far too quiet for me; but
+since I came out mamma always spends the season in town. The
+Grange--that is our house--is really Richard's--my brother's, I mean."
+
+"The Grange--Oatlands? I am sure I know that name," returned Bessie, in
+a puzzled tone; "and yet where could I have heard it?" She thought a
+moment, and then added quickly, "Your name cannot be Sefton?"
+
+"To be sure it is," replied the other girl, opening her brown eyes
+rather wildly; "Edna Sefton; but how could you have guessed it?"
+
+"Then your mother's name is Eleanor?"
+
+"I begin to think this is mysterious, and that you must be a witch, or
+something uncanny. I know all mamma's friends, and I am positive not
+one of them ever lived at Cliffe-on-Sea."
+
+"And you are quite sure of that? Has your mother never mentioned the
+name of a Dr. Lambert?"
+
+"Dr. Lambert! No. Wait a moment, though. Mamma is very fond of talking
+about old days, when she was a girl, don't you know, and there was a
+young doctor, very poor, I remember, but his name was Herbert."
+
+"My father's name is Herbert, and he was very poor once, when he was a
+young man; he is not rich now. I think, many years ago, he and your
+mother were friends. Let me tell you all I know about it. About a year
+ago he asked me to post a letter for him. I remember reading aloud the
+address in an absent sort of way: 'Mrs. Sefton, The Grange, Oatlands,
+Kent;' and my father looked up from his writing, and said, 'That is only
+a business letter, Bessie, but Mrs. Sefton and I are old correspondents.
+When she was Eleanor Sartoris, and I was a young fellow as poor as a
+church mouse, we were good friends; but she married, and then I married;
+but that is a lifetime ago; she was a handsome girl, though.'"
+
+"Mamma is handsome now. How interesting it all is! When I get home I
+shall coax mamma to tell me all about it. You see, we are not strangers
+after all, so we can go on talking quite like old friends. You have made
+me forget the time. Oh dear, how dark it is getting! and the gas gives
+only a glimmer of light."
+
+"It will not be quite dark, because of the snow. Do not let us think
+about the time. Some of the passengers are walking about. I heard them
+say just now the man must have reached Cleveley, so the telegram must
+have gone--we shall soon have help. Of course, if the snow had not
+ceased falling, it would have been far more serious."
+
+"Yes," returned Miss Sefton, with a shiver; "but it is far nicer to read
+of horrid things in a cheerful room and by a bright fire than to
+experience them one's self. Somehow one never realizes them."
+
+"That is what father says--that young people are not really
+hard-hearted, only they do not realize things; their imagination just
+skims over the surface. I think it is my want of imagination helps me. I
+never will look round the corner to try and find out what disagreeable
+thing is coming next. One could not live so and feel cheerful."
+
+"Then you are one of those good people, Miss Lambert, who think it their
+duty to cultivate cheerfulness. I was quite surprised to see you look so
+tranquil, when I had been indulging in a babyish fit of crying, from
+sheer fright and misery; but it made me feel better only to look at
+you."
+
+"I am so glad," was Bessie's answer. "I remember being very much struck
+by a passage in an essay I once read, but I can only quote it from
+memory; it was to the effect that when a cheerful person enters a room
+it is as though fresh candles are lighted. The illustration pleases me."
+
+"True, it was very telling. Yes, you are cheerful, and you are very fond
+of talking."
+
+"I am afraid I am a sad chatterbox," returned Bessie, blushing, as
+though she were conscious of an implied reproof.
+
+"Oh, but I like talking people. People who hold their tongues and listen
+are such bores. I do detest bores. I talk a great deal myself."
+
+"I think I have got into the way for Hatty's sake. Hatty is the sickly
+one of our flock; she has never been strong. When she was a tiny, weeny
+thing she was always crying and fretful. Father tells us that she cannot
+help it, but he never says so to her; he laughs and calls her 'Little
+Miss Much-Afraid.' Hatty is full of fear. She cannot see a mouse, as I
+tell her, without looking round the corner for pussy's claws."
+
+"Is Hatty your only sister, Miss Lambert?"
+
+"Oh, no; there are three more. I am the eldest--'Mother's crutch,' as
+they call me. We are such a family for giving each other funny names.
+Tom comes next. I am three-and-twenty--quite an old person, as Tom
+says--and he is one-and-twenty. He is at Oxford; he wants to be a
+barrister. Christine comes next to Tom--she is nineteen, and so pretty;
+and then poor Hatty--'sour seventeen,' as Tom called her on her last
+birthday; and then the two children, Ella and Katie; though Ella is
+nearly sixteen, and Katie fourteen, but they are only school-girls."
+
+"What a large family!" observed Miss Sefton, stifling a little yawn.
+"Now, mamma has only got me, for we don't count Richard."
+
+"Not count your brother?"
+
+"Oh, Richard is my step-brother; he was papa's son, you know; that makes
+a difference. Papa died when I was quite a little girl, so you see what
+I mean by saying mamma has only got me."
+
+"But she has your brother, too," observed Bessie, somewhat puzzled by
+this.
+
+"Oh, yes, of course." But Miss Sefton's tone was enigmatical, and she
+somewhat hastily changed the subject by saying, plaintively, "Oh, dear,
+do please tell me, Miss Lambert, what you think I ought to do when we
+reach Cliffe, if we ever do reach it. Shall I telegraph to my friends in
+London, and go to a hotel? Perhaps you could recommend me one, or----"
+
+"No; you shall come home with me," returned Bessie, moved to this sudden
+inspiration by the weary look in Miss Sefton's face. "We are not
+strangers; my father and your mother were friends; that is sufficient
+introduction. Mother is the kindest woman in the world--every one says
+so. We are not rich people, but we can make you comfortable. To be sure,
+there is not a spare room; our house is not large, and there are so many
+of us; but you shall have my room, and I will have half of Chrissy's
+bed. You are too young"--and here Bessie was going to add "too pretty,"
+only she checked herself--"to go alone to a hotel. Mother would be
+dreadfully shocked at the idea."
+
+"You are very kind--too kind; but your people might object," hesitated
+Miss Sefton.
+
+"Mother never objects to anything we do; at least, I might turn it the
+other way about, and say we never propose anything to which she is
+likely to object. When my mother knows all about it, she will give you a
+hearty welcome."
+
+"If you are quite sure of that, I will accept your invitation
+thankfully, for I am tired to death. You are goodness itself to me, but
+I shall not like turning you out of your room."
+
+"Nonsense. Chriss and I will think it a bit of fun--oh, you don't know
+us yet. So little happens in our lives that your coming will be quite an
+event; so that is settled." And Bessie extended a plump little hand in
+token of her good will, which Miss Sefton cordially grasped.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+"HERE IS OUR BESSIE."
+
+
+An interruption occurred at this moment. The friendly guard made his
+appearance again, accompanied by the same white-haired old clergyman
+whom Bessie had noticed. He came to offer his services to the young
+ladies. He cheered Miss Sefton's drooping spirits by reiterating the
+guard's assurance that they need only fear the inconvenience of another
+hour's delay.
+
+The sight of the kind, benevolent countenance was reassuring and
+comforting, and after their new friend had left them the girls resumed
+their talk with fresh alacrity.
+
+Miss Sefton was the chief speaker. She began recounting the glories of a
+grand military ball at Knightsbridge, at which she had been present, and
+some private theatricals and tableaux that had followed. She had a
+vivid, picturesque way of describing things, and Bessie listened with a
+sort of dreamy fascination that lulled her into forgetfulness of her
+parents' anxiety.
+
+In spite of her alleged want of imagination, she was conscious of a sort
+of weird interest in her surroundings. The wintry afternoon had closed
+into evening, but the whiteness of the snow threw a dim brightness
+underneath the faint starlight, while the gleam of the carriage lights
+enabled them to see the dark figures that passed and repassed underneath
+their window.
+
+It was intensely cold, and in spite of her furs Miss Sefton shivered and
+grew perceptibly paler. She was evidently one of those spoiled children
+of fortune who had never learned lessons of endurance, who are easily
+subdued and depressed by a passing feeling of discomfort; even Bessie's
+sturdy cheerfulness was a little infected by the unnatural stillness
+outside. The line ran between high banks, but in the mysterious twilight
+they looked like rocky defiles closing them in.
+
+After a time Bessie's attention wandered, and her interest flagged.
+Military balls ceased to interest her as the temperature grew lower and
+lower. Miss Sefton, too, became silent, and Bessie's mind filled with
+gloomy images. She thought of ships bedded in ice in Arctic regions; of
+shipwrecked sailors on frozen seas; of lonely travellers laying down
+their weary heads on pillows of snow, never to rise again; of homeless
+wanderers, outcasts from society, many with famished babes at their
+breasts, cowering under dark arches, or warming themselves at smoldering
+fires.
+
+"Thank God that, as father says, we cannot realize what people have to
+suffer," thought Bessie. "What would be the use of being young and happy
+and free from pain, if we were to feel other people's miseries? Some of
+us, who are sympathetic by nature, would never smile again. I don't
+think when God made us, and sent us into the world to live our own
+lives, that He meant us to feel like that. One can't mix up other
+people's lives with one's own; it would make an awful muddle."
+
+"Miss Lambert, are you asleep, or dreaming with your eyes open? Don't
+you see we are moving? There was such a bustle just now, and then they
+got the steam up, and now the engine is beginning to work. Oh! how
+slowly we are going! I could walk faster. Oh! we are stopping again--no,
+it is only my fancy. Is not the shriek of the whistle musical for once?"
+
+"I was not asleep; I was only thinking; but my thoughts had travelled
+far. Are we really moving? There, the snow-plow has cleared the line; we
+shall go on faster presently."
+
+"I hope so; it is nearly eight. I ought to have reached London an hour
+ago. Poor Neville, how disappointed he will be. Oh, we are through the
+drift now and they are putting on more steam."
+
+"Yes, we shall be at Cliffe in another ten minutes;" and Bessie roused
+in earnest. Those ten minutes seemed interminable before the lights of
+the station flashed before their eyes.
+
+"Here she is--here is our Bessie!" exclaimed a voice, and a fine-looking
+young fellow in an ulster ran lightly down the platform as Bessie waved
+her handkerchief. He was followed more leisurely by a handsome,
+gray-haired man with a quiet, refined-looking face.
+
+"Tom--oh, Tom!" exclaimed Bessie, almost jumping into his arms, as he
+opened the carriage door. "Were mother and Hattie very frightened? Why,
+there is father!" as Dr. Lambert hurried up.
+
+"My dear child, how thankful I am to see you! Why, she looks quite
+fresh, Tom."
+
+"As fit as possible," echoed Tom.
+
+"Yes, I am only cold. Father, the guard put me in with a young lady. She
+was going to London, but it is too late for her to travel alone, and she
+is afraid of going to a hotel. May I bring her home? Her name is Edna
+Sefton. She lives at The Grange, Oatlands."
+
+Dr. Lambert seemed somewhat taken aback by his daughter's speech.
+
+"Edna Sefton! Why, that is Eleanor Sefton's daughter! What a strange
+coincidence!" And then he muttered to himself, "Eleanor Sartoris'
+daughter under our roof! I wonder what Dora will say?" And then he
+turned to the fair, striking-looking girl whom Tom was assisting with
+all the alacrity that a young man generally shows to a pretty girl:
+"Miss Sefton, you will be heartily welcome for your mother's sake; she
+and I were great friends in the 'auld lang syne.' Will you come with me?
+I have a fly waiting for Bessie; my son will look after the luggage;"
+and Edna obeyed him with the docility of a child.
+
+But she glanced at him curiously once or twice as she walked beside him.
+"What a gentlemanly, handsome man he was!" she thought. Yes, he looked
+like a doctor; he had the easy, kindly manner which generally belongs to
+the profession. She had never thought much about her own father, but
+to-night, as they drove through the lighted streets, her thoughts, oddly
+enough, recurred to him. Dr. Lambert was sitting opposite the two girls,
+but his eyes were fixed oftenest on his daughter.
+
+"Your mother was very anxious and nervous," he said, "and so was Hatty,
+when Tom brought us word that the train was snowed up in Sheen Valley I
+had to scold Hatty, and tell her she was a goose; but mother was nearly
+as bad; she can't do without her crutch, eh, Bessie?" with a gleam of
+tenderness in his eyes, as they rested on his girl.
+
+Edna felt a little lump in her throat, though she hardly knew why;
+perhaps she was tired and over-strained; she had never missed her father
+before, but she fought against the feeling of depression.
+
+"I am so sorry your son has to walk," she said politely; but Dr. Lambert
+only smiled.
+
+"A walk will not hurt him, and our roads are very steep."
+
+As he spoke, the driver got down, and Bessie begged leave to follow his
+example.
+
+"We live on the top of the hill," she said apologetically; "and I cannot
+bear being dragged up by a tired horse, as father knows by this time;"
+and she joined her brother, who came up at that moment.
+
+Tom had kept the fly well in sight.
+
+"That's an awfully jolly-looking girl, Betty," he observed, with the
+free and easy criticism of his age. "I don't know when I have seen a
+prettier girl; uncommon style, too--fair hair and dark eyes; she is a
+regular beauty."
+
+"That is what boys always think about," returned Bessie, with
+good-humored contempt. "Girls are different. I should be just as much
+interested in Miss Sefton if she were plain. I suppose you mean to be
+charmed with her conversation, and to find all her remarks witty because
+she has _les beaux yeux_."
+
+"I scorn to take notice of such spiteful remarks," returned Tom, with a
+shrug. "Girls are venomous to each other. I believe they hate to hear
+one another praised, even by a brother."
+
+"Hold your tongue, Tom," was the rejoinder. "It takes my breath away to
+argue with you up this hill. I am not too ill-natured to give up my own
+bed to Miss Sefton. Let us hurry on, there's a good boy, or they will
+arrive before us."
+
+As this request coincided with Tom's private wishes, he condescended to
+walk faster; and the brother and sister were soon at the top of the
+hill, and had turned into a pretty private road bordered with trees,
+with detached houses standing far back, with long, sloping strips of
+gardens. The moon had now risen, and Bessie could distinctly see a
+little group of girls, with shawls over their heads, standing on the top
+of a flight of stone steps leading down to a large shady garden
+belonging to an old-fashioned house. The front entrance was round the
+corner, but the drawing-room window was open, and the girls had gained
+the road by the garden way, and stood shivering and expectant; while the
+moon illumined the grass terraces that ran steeply from the house, and
+shone on the meadow that skirted the garden.
+
+"Run in, girls; you will catch cold," called out Bessie; but her prudent
+suggestion was of no avail, for a tall, lanky girl rushed into the road
+with the rapturous exclamation, "Why, it is our Bessie after all, though
+she looked so tall in the moonlight, and I did not know Tom's new
+ulster." And here Bessie was fallen upon and kissed, and handed from one
+to another of the group, and then borne rapidly down the steps and
+across the terrace to the open window.
+
+"Here she is, mother; here is our Bessie, not a bit the worse. And Hatty
+ought to be ashamed of herself for making us all miserable!" exclaimed
+Katie.
+
+"My Hatty sha'n't be scolded. Mother, dear, if you only knew how sweet
+home looks after the Sheen Valley! Don't smother me any more, girls. I
+want to tell you something that will surprise you;" and Bessie, still
+holding her mother's hand, but looking at Hatty, gave a rapid and
+somewhat indistinct account of her meeting with Edna Sefton.
+
+"And she will have my room, mother," continued Bessie, a little
+incoherently, for she was tired and breathless, and the girl's
+exclamations were so bewildering.
+
+Mrs. Lambert, a pale, care-worn woman, with a sweet pathetic sort of
+face, was listening with much perplexity, which was not lessened by the
+sight of her husband ushering into the room a handsome-looking girl,
+dressed in the most expensive fashion.
+
+"Dora, my dear, this is Bessie's fellow-sufferer in the snowdrift; we
+must make much of her, for she is the daughter of my old friend, Eleanor
+Sartoris--Mrs. Sefton now. Bessie has offered her her own room to-night,
+as it is too late for her to travel to London."
+
+A quick look passed between the husband and wife, and a faint color came
+to Mrs. Lambert's face, but she was too well-bred to express her
+astonishment.
+
+"You are very welcome, my dear," she said quietly. "We will make you as
+comfortable as we can. These are all my girls," and she mentioned their
+names.
+
+"What a lot of girls," thought Edna. She was not a bit shy by nature,
+and somehow the situation amused her. "What a comfortable, homelike
+room, and what a lovely fire! And--well, of course, they were not rich;
+any one could see that; but they were nice, kind people."
+
+"This is better than the snowdrift," she said, with a beaming smile, as
+Dr. Lambert placed her in his own easy chair, and Tom brought her a
+footstool and handed her a screen, and her old acquaintance Bessie
+helped her to remove her wraps. The whole family gathered round her,
+intent on hospitality to the bewitching stranger--only the "Crutch," as
+Tom called her, tripped away to order Jane to light a fire in her room,
+and to give out the clean linen for the unexpected guest, and to put a
+few finishing touches to the supper-table.
+
+The others did not miss her at first. Christine, a tall, graceful girl
+who had inherited her father's good looks, was questioning Edna about
+the journey, and the rest were listening to the answers.
+
+Hatty, a pale, sickly-looking girl, whose really fine features were
+marred by unhealthy sullenness and an anxious, fretful expression, was
+hanging on every word; while the tall schoolgirl Ella, and the smaller,
+bright-eyed Katie, were standing behind their mother, trying to hide
+their awkwardness and bashfulness, till Tom came to the rescue by
+finding them seats, with a whispered hint to Katie that it was not good
+manners to stare so at a stranger. Edna saw everything with quiet,
+amused eyes; she satisfied Christine's curiosity, and found replies to
+all Mrs. Lambert's gentle, persistent questioning. Tom, too, claimed her
+attention by all sorts of dexterous wiles. She must look at him, and
+thank him, when he found that screen for her; she could not disregard
+him when he was so solicitous about the draft from the window, so
+anxious to bring her another cushion.
+
+"I did not know you were such a ladies' man, Tom," observed Dr. Lambert
+presently, in a tone that made Tom retreat with rather a foolish
+expression.
+
+With all his love for his children, Dr. Lambert was sometimes capable of
+a smooth sarcasm. Tom felt as though he had been officious; had, in
+fact, made a fool of himself, and drew off into the background. His
+father was often hard on him, Tom said to himself, in an aggrieved way,
+and yet he was only doing his duty, as a son of the house, in waiting on
+this fascinating young lady.
+
+"Poor boy, he is very young!" thought Edna, who noticed this by-play
+with some amusement; "but he will grow older some day, and he is very
+good-looking;" and then she listened with a pretty show of interest to a
+story Dr. Lambert was telling her of when he was snowed up in Scotland
+as a boy.
+
+When Bessie returned she found them all in good spirits, and her
+fellow-traveller laughing and talking as though she had known them for
+years; even Tom's brief sulkiness had vanished, and, unmindful of his
+father's caustic tongue, he had again ventured to join the charmed
+circle.
+
+It was quite late before the girls retired to rest, and as Edna followed
+Bessie up the broad, low staircase, while Tom lighted them from below,
+she called out gayly. "Good-night, Mr. Lambert; it was worth while
+being snowed up in the Sheen Valley to make such nice friends, and to
+enjoy such a pleasant evening."
+
+Edna really meant what she said, for the moment; she was capable of
+these brief enthusiasms. Pleasantness of speech, that specious coinage
+of conventionality, was as the breath of life to her. Her girlish vanity
+was gratified by the impression she had made on the Lambert family, and
+even Tom's crude, boyish admiration was worth something.
+
+"To be all things to all men" is sometimes taken by vain, worldly people
+in a very different sense from that the apostle intended. Girls of Edna
+Sefton's caliber--impressionable, vivacious, egotistical, and capable of
+a thousand varying moods--will often take their cue from other people,
+and become grave with the grave, and gay with the gay, until they weary
+of their role, and of a sudden become their true selves. And yet there
+is nothing absolutely wrong in these swift, natural transitions; many
+sympathetic natures act in the same way, by very reason and force of
+their sympathy. For the time being they go out of themselves, and, as it
+were, put themselves in other people's places. Excessive sympathy is
+capable of minor martyrdom; their reflected suffering borders upon real
+pain.
+
+When Bessie ushered Edna into her little room, she looked round proudly
+at the result of her own painstaking thoughtfulness. A bright fire
+burned in the small grate, and her mother's easy chair stood beside
+it--heavy as it was, Bessie had carried it in with her own hands. The
+best eider-down quilt, in its gay covering, was on the bed, and the new
+toilet-cover that Christine had worked in blue and white cross-stitch
+was on the table. Bessie had even borrowed the vase of Neapolitan
+violets that some patient had sent her father, and the sweet perfume
+permeated the little room.
+
+Bessie would willingly have heard some encomium on the snug quarters
+provided for the weary guest, but Edna only looked round her
+indifferently, and then stifled a yawn.
+
+"Is there anything you want? Can I help you? Oh, I hope you will sleep
+comfortably!" observed Bessie, a little mortified by Edna's silence.
+
+"Oh, yes: I am so tired that I am sure I shall sleep well," returned
+Edna; and then she added quickly, "but I am so sorry to turn you out of
+your room."
+
+"Oh, that does not matter at all, thank you," replied Bessie, stirring
+the fire into a cheerful blaze, and then bidding her guest good-night;
+but Edna, who had taken possession of the easy chair, exclaimed:
+
+"Oh, don't go yet--it is only eleven, and I am never in bed until
+twelve. Sit down a moment, and warm yourself."
+
+"Mother never likes us to be late," hesitated Bessie; but she lingered,
+nevertheless. This was not an ordinary evening, and there were
+exceptions to every rule, so she knelt down on the rug a moment, and
+watched Edna taking down the long plaits of fair hair that had crowned
+her shapely head. "What lovely hair!" thought Bessie; "what a beautiful
+young creature she is altogether!"
+
+Edna was unconscious of the admiration she was exciting. She was looking
+round her, and trying to realize what her feelings would be if she had
+to inhabit such a room. "Why, our servants have better rooms," she
+thought.
+
+To a girl of Edna's luxurious habits Bessie's room looked very poor and
+mean. The little strips of faded carpet, the small, curtainless
+bedstead, the plain maple washstand and drawers, the few simple prints
+and varnished bookcase were shabby enough in Edna's eyes. She could not
+understand how any girl could be content with such a room; and yet
+Bessie's happiest hours were spent there. What was a little shabbiness,
+or the wear and tear of homely furniture, to one who saw angels'
+footprints even in the common ways of life, and who dreamed sweet,
+innocent dreams of the splendors of a heavenly home? To these sort of
+natures even threadbare garments can be worn proudly, for to these free
+spirits even poverty loses its sting. It is not "how we live," but "how
+we think about life," that stamps our characters, and makes us the men
+and women that we are.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+HATTY.
+
+
+The brief silence was broken by Edna.
+
+"What a nice boy your brother is!" she observed, in rather a patronizing
+tone.
+
+Bessie looked up in some surprise.
+
+"Tom does not consider himself a boy, I assure you; he is
+one-and-twenty, and ever since he has gone to Oxford he thinks himself
+of great consequence. I dare say we spoil him among us, as he is our
+only brother now. If Frank had lived," and here Bessie sighed, "he would
+have been five-and-twenty by this time; but he died four years ago. It
+was such a blow to poor father and mother; he was so good and clever,
+and he was studying for a doctor; but he caught a severe chill, and
+congestion of the lungs came on, and in a few days he was dead. I don't
+think mother has ever been quite the same since his death--Frank was so
+much to her."
+
+"How very sad!" returned Edna sympathetically, for Bessie's eyes had
+grown soft and misty as she touched this chord of sadness; "it must be
+terrible to lose any one whom one loves." And then she added, with a
+smile, "I did not mean to hurt your feelings by calling your brother a
+boy, but he seemed very young to me. You see, I am engaged, and Mr.
+Sinclair (that is my fiance) is nearly thirty, and he is so grave and
+quiet that any one like your brother seems like a boy beside him."
+
+"You are engaged?" ejaculated Bessie, in an awestruck tone.
+
+"Yes; it seems a pity, does it not? at least mamma says so; she thinks I
+am too young and giddy to know my own mind; and yet she is very fond of
+Neville--Mr. Sinclair, I mean. She will have it that we are not a bit
+suited to each other, and I dare say she is right, for certainly we do
+not think alike on a single point."
+
+Bessie's eyes opened rather widely at this candid statement. She was a
+simple little soul, and had not yet learned the creed of emancipation.
+She held the old-fashioned views that her mother had held before her.
+Her mother seldom talked on these subjects, and Bessie had inherited
+this reticence. She listened with a sort of wondering disgust when her
+girl acquaintances chattered flippantly about their lovers, and boasted
+openly of their power over them.
+
+"If this sort of thing ever comes to me," thought Bessie on these
+occasions, "I shall think it too wonderful and precious to make it the
+subject of idle conversation. How can any one take upon themselves the
+responsibility of another human being's happiness--for that is what it
+really means--and turn it into a jest? It is far too sacred and
+beautiful a thing for such treatment. I think mother is right when she
+says, 'Girls of the present day have so little reticence.'"
+
+She hardly knew what to make of Edna's speech; it was not exactly
+flippant, but it seemed so strange to hear so young a creature speak in
+that cool, matter-of-fact way.
+
+"I don't see how people are to get on together, if they do not think
+alike," she observed, in a perplexed voice; but Edna only laughed.
+
+"I am afraid we don't get on. Mother says she never saw such a couple;
+that we are always quarrelling and making up like two children; but I
+put it to you, Miss Lambert, how are things to be better? I am used to
+my own way, and Mr. Sinclair is used to his. I like fun and plenty of
+change, and dread nothing so much as being bored--_ennuyee_, in fact,
+and he is all for quiet. Then he is terribly clever, and has every sort
+of knowledge at his fingers' end. He is a barrister, and rising in his
+profession, and I seldom open a book unless it be a novel."
+
+"I wonder why he chose you," observed Bessie naively, and Edna seemed
+much amused by her frankness.
+
+"Oh, how deliciously downright you are, Miss Lambert. Well, do you know
+I have not the faintest notion why Neville asked me to marry him, any
+more than I know why I listened to him. I tell him sometimes that it was
+the most ridiculous mistake in the world, and that either he or I, or
+both of us, must have been bewitched. I am really very sorry for him
+sometimes; I do make him so unhappy; and sometimes I am sorry for
+myself. But there, the whole thing is beyond my comprehension. If I
+could alter myself or alter Neville, things would be more comfortable
+and less unpleasantly exciting." And here Edna laughed again, and then
+stifled another yawn; and this time Bessie declared she would not stop a
+moment longer. Christine would be asleep.
+
+"Well, perhaps I should only talk nonsense if you remained, and I can
+see you are easily shocked, so I will allow you to wish me good-night."
+But, to Bessie's surprise, Edna kissed her affectionately.
+
+"You have been a Good Samaritan to me," she said quietly, "and I am
+really very grateful." And Bessie withdrew, touched by the unexpected
+caress.
+
+"What a strange mixture she is!" she thought, as she softly closed the
+door. "I think she must have been badly brought up; perhaps her mother
+has spoiled her. I fancy she is affectionate by nature, but she is
+worldly, and cares too much for pleasure; anyhow, one cannot help being
+interested in her." But here she broke off abruptly as she passed a
+half-opened door, and a voice from within summoned her.
+
+"Oh, Hatty, you naughty child, are you awake? Do you know it is nearly
+twelve o'clock?"
+
+"What does that matter?" returned Hatty fretfully, as Bessie groped her
+way carefully toward the bed. "I could not sleep until you had said
+good-night to me. I suppose you had forgotten me; you never thought I
+was lying here waiting for you, while you were talking to Miss Sefton."
+
+"Now, Hatty, I hope you are not going to be tiresome;" and Bessie's
+voice was a little weary; and then she relented, and said gently, "You
+know I never forget you, Hatty dear."
+
+"No, of course not," returned the other eagerly. "I did not mean to be
+cross. Put your head down beside me on the pillow, Bessie darling, for I
+know you are just as tired as possible. You don't mind stopping with me
+for a few minutes, do you? for I have not spoken to you for three
+weeks."
+
+"No, I am not so tired as all that, and I am quite comfortable," as a
+thin, soft cheek laid itself against her's in the darkness. "What has
+gone wrong, Hatty dear? for I know by your tone you have been making
+yourself miserable about something. You have wanted me back to scold you
+into cheerfulness."
+
+"I have wanted you dreadfully," sighed Hatty. "Mother and Christine have
+been very kind, but they don't help me as you do, and Tom teases me
+dreadfully. What do you think he said yesterday to mother? I was in the
+room and heard him myself. He actually said, 'I wonder my father allows
+you all to spoil Hatty as you do. You all give in to her, however cross
+and unreasonable she is, and so her temper gets worse every day.'"
+
+"Well, you are very often cross, you know," returned Bessie truthfully.
+
+"Yes, but I try not to be," replied Hatty, with a little sob. "Tom would
+have been cross too if his head and back had ached as mine were aching,
+but he always feels well and strong. I think it is cruel of him to say
+such things to mother, when he knows how much I have to suffer."
+
+"Tom did not mean to be unkind, Hatty; you are always finding fault
+with the poor boy. It is difficult for a young man, who does not know
+what an ache means, nor what it is to wake up tired, to realize what
+real suffering all your little ailments cause you. Tom is really very
+kind and good-natured, only your sharp little speeches irritate him."
+
+"I am always irritating some one," moaned Hatty. "I can't think how any
+of you can love me. I often cry myself to sleep, to think how horrid and
+disagreeable I have been in the day. I make good resolutions then, but
+the next morning I am as bad as ever, and then I think it is no use
+trying any more. Last night Tom made me so unhappy that I could not say
+my prayers."
+
+"Poor little Hatty!"
+
+"Yes, I know you are sorry for me; you are such a dear that I cannot be
+as cross with you as I am with Tom; but, Bessie, I wish you would
+comfort me a little; if you would only tell me that I am not so much to
+blame."
+
+"We have talked that over a great many times before. You know what I
+think, Hatty; you are not to blame for your weakness; that is a trial
+laid upon you; but you are to blame if that weakness is so impatiently
+borne that it leads you to sin."
+
+"I am sure father thinks that I cannot help my irritability; he will
+never let Tom scold me if he is in the room."
+
+"That is because father is so kind, and he knows you have such a hard
+time of it, you poor child, and that makes us all so sorry for you; but,
+Hatty, you must not let all this love spoil you; we are patient with you
+because we know your weakness, but we cannot help you if you do not help
+yourself. Don't you recollect what dear Mr. Robertson said in his
+sermon? that 'harassed nerves must be striven against, as we strive
+against anything that hinders our daily growth in grace.' He said people
+were more tolerant of this form of weakness than of any other, and yet
+it caused much misery in homes, and he went on to tell us that every
+irritable word left unspoken, every peevish complaint hushed, was as
+real a victory as though we had done some great thing. 'If we must
+suffer,' he said, 'at least let us suffer quietly, and not spend our
+breath in fruitless complaint. People will avoid a fretful person as
+though they were plague-tainted; and why? because they trouble the very
+atmosphere round them, and no one can enjoy peace in their
+neighborhood.'"
+
+"I am sure Mr. Robertson must have meant me, Bessie."
+
+"No, darling, no; I won't have you exaggerate or judge yourself too
+harshly. You are not always cross, or we should not be so fond of you.
+You make us sad sometimes, when you sit apart, brooding over some
+imaginary grievance; that is why father calls you Little Miss
+Much-Afraid."
+
+"Yes, you all laugh at me, but indeed the darkness is very real.
+Sometimes I wonder why I have been sent into the world, if I am not to
+be happy myself, nor to make other people happy. You are like a sunbeam
+yourself, Bessie, and so you hardly understand what I mean."
+
+"Oh, yes, I do; but I never see any good in putting questions that we
+cannot answer; only I am quite sure you have your duty to do, quite as
+much as I have mine, only you have not found it out."
+
+"Perhaps I am the thorn in the flesh to discipline you all into
+patience," returned Hatty quaintly, for she was not without humor.
+
+"Very well, then, my thorn; fulfil your mission," returned Bessie,
+kissing her. "But I cannot keep awake and speak words of wisdom any
+longer." And she scrambled over the bed, and with another cheerful
+"good-night," vanished; but Hatty's troubled thoughts were lulled by
+sisterly sympathy, and she soon slept peacefully. Late as it was before
+Bessie laid her weary head on the pillow beside her sleeping sister, it
+was long before her eyes closed and she sunk into utter forgetfulness.
+Her mind seemed crowded with vague images and disconnected thoughts.
+Recollections of the hours spent in Sheen Valley, the weird effect of
+the dusky figures passing and repassing in the dim, uncertain light, the
+faint streaks of light across the snow, the dull winter sky, the eager
+welcome of the lonely girl, the long friendly talk ripening into budding
+intimacy, all passed vividly before her, followed by Hatty's artless
+confession.
+
+"Poor little thing!" thought Bessie compassionately, for there was a
+specially soft place in her heart for Hatty. She had always been her
+particular charge. All Hatty's failures, her miserable derelictions of
+duty, her morbid self-accusations and nervous fancies, bred of a sickly
+body and over-anxious temperament, were breathed into Bessie's
+sympathizing ear. Hatty's feebleness borrowed strength and courage from
+Bessie's vigorous counsels. She felt braced by mere contact with such a
+strong, healthy organization. She was always less fretful and impatient
+when Bessie was near; her cheery influence cleared away many a cloud
+that threatened to obscure Hatty's horizon.
+
+"Bear ye one another's burdens," was a command literally obeyed by
+Bessie in her unselfish devotion to Hatty, her self-sacrificing efforts
+to cheer and rouse her; but she never could be made to understand that
+there was any merit in her conduct.
+
+"I know Hatty is often cross, and ready to take offence," she would say;
+"but I think we ought to make allowances for her. I don't think we
+realize how much she has to bear--that she never feels well."
+
+"Oh, that is all very well," Christine would answer, for she had a quick
+temper too, and would fire up after one of Hatty's sarcastic little
+speeches; "but it is time Hatty learned self-control. I dare say you are
+often tired after your Sunday class, but no one hears a cross word from
+you."
+
+"Oh, I keep it all in," Bessie returned, laughing. "But I dare say I
+feel cross all the same. I don't think any of us can guess what it must
+be to wake depressed and languid every morning. A louder voice than
+usual does not make our heads ache, yet I have seen Hatty wince with
+pain when Tom indulged in one of his laughs."
+
+"Yes, I know," replied Christine, only half convinced by this. "Of
+course it is very trying, but Hatty must be used to it by this time, for
+she has never been strong from a baby; and yet she is always bemoaning
+herself, as though it were something fresh."
+
+"It is not easy to get used to this sort of trouble," answered Bessie,
+rather sadly. "And I must say I always feel very sorry for Hatty," and
+so the conversation closed.
+
+But in her heart Bessie said: "It is all very well to preach patience,
+and I for one am always preaching it to Hatty, but it is not so easy to
+practice it. Mother and Christine are always praising me for being so
+good tempered; but if one feels strong and well, and has a healthy
+appetite and good digestion, it is very easy to keep from being cross;
+but in other ways I am not half so good as Hatty; she is the purest,
+humblest little soul breathing."
+
+In spite of late hours, Bessie was downstairs the next morning at her
+usual time; she always presided at the breakfast-table. Since her eldest
+son's death, Mrs. Lambert had lost much of her strength and energy, and
+though her husband refused to acknowledge her as an invalid, or to treat
+her as one, yet most of her duties had devolved upon Bessie, whose
+useful energy supplemented her mother's failing powers.
+
+Bessie had briefly hinted at her family sorrow; she was not one at any
+time to dwell upon her feelings, nor to indulge in morbid retrospection,
+but it was true that the loss of that dearly loved son and brother had
+clouded the bright home atmosphere. Mrs. Lambert had borne her trouble
+meekly, and had striven to comfort her husband who had broken down
+under the sudden blow. She spoke little, even to her daughters, of the
+grief that was slowly consuming her; but as time went on, and Dr.
+Lambert recovered his cheerfulness, he noticed that his wife drooped and
+ailed more than usual; she had grown into slow quiet ways that seemed to
+point to failing strength.
+
+"Bessie, your mother is not as young as she used to be," he said
+abruptly, one morning, "She does not complain, but then she is not one
+of the complaining sort; she was always a quiet creature; but you girls
+must put your shoulders to the wheel, and spare her as much as
+possible." And from that day Bessie had become her mother's crutch.
+
+It was a wonderful relief to the harassed mother when she found a
+confidante to whom she could pour out all her anxieties.
+
+Dr. Lambert was not a rich man; his practice was large, but many of his
+patients were poor, and he had heavy expenses. The hilly roads and long
+distances obliged him to keep two horses. He had sent both his sons to
+Oxford, thinking a good education would be their best inheritance, and
+this had obliged him to curtail domestic expenses. He was a careful man,
+too, who looked forward to the future, and thought it his duty to lay
+aside a yearly sum to make provision for his wife and children.
+
+"I have only one son now, and Hatty will always be a care, poor child,"
+he said more than once.
+
+So, though there was always a liberal table kept in the doctor's house,
+it being Dr. Lambert's theory that growing girls needed plenty of
+nourishing food, the young people were taught economy in every other
+matter. The girls dressed simply and made their own gowns. Carpets and
+furniture grew the worse for wear, and were not always replaced at once.
+Tom grumbled sometimes when one of his Oxford friends came to dinner. He
+and Christine used to bewail the shabby covers in the drawing-room.
+
+"It is such a pretty room if it were only furbished off a bit," Tom said
+once. "Why don't you girls coax the governor to let you do it up?" Tom
+never used the word governor unless he was in a grumbling mood, for he
+knew how his father hated it.
+
+"I don't think father can afford anything this year, Tom," Bessie
+returned, in her fearless way. "Why do you ask your grand friends if you
+think they will look down on us? We don't pretend to be rich people.
+They will find the chairs very comfortable if they will condescend to
+sit on them, and the tables as strong as other people's tables; and
+though the carpet is a little faded, there are no holes to trip your
+friends up."
+
+"Oh, shut up, Betty!" returned Tom, restored to good humor by her honest
+sarcasm. "Ferguson will come if I ask him. I think he is a bit taken
+with old Chrissy." And so ended the argument.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+A COSY MORNING.
+
+
+Breakfast was half over before Miss Sefton made her appearance; but her
+graceful apology for her tardiness was received by Dr. Lambert in the
+most indulgent manner. In spite of his love of punctuality, and his
+stringent rules for his household in this respect, he could not have
+found it in his heart to rebuke the pretty, smiling creature who told
+him so naively that early rising disagreed with her and put her out for
+the day.
+
+"I tell mamma that I require a good deal of sleep, and, fortunately, she
+believes me," finished Edna complacently.
+
+Well, it was not like the doctor to hold his peace at this glaring
+opposition to his favorite theory, and yet, to Tom's astonishment, he
+forebore to quote that threadbare and detestable adage, "Early to bed
+and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise"--proverbial
+and uncomfortable philosophy that Tom hated with all his foolish young
+heart. Tom, in his budding manhood, often thought fit to set this
+domestic tyranny at defiance, and would argue at some length that his
+father was wrong in laying down rules for the younger generation.
+
+"If my father likes to get up early, no one can find any fault with him
+for doing it," Tom would say; "but he need not impose his venerable and
+benighted opinions upon us. Great men are not always wise; even
+intellectual veterans like Dr. Johnson, and others I can mention, if you
+only give me time, have their hallucinations, fads, fancies, and
+flummeries. For example, every one speaks of Dr. Johnson with respect;
+no one hints that he had a bee in his bonnet, and yet a man who could
+make a big hole for a cat and a little one for a kitten--was it Johnson
+or Newton who did that?--must have had a screw loose somewhere. And so
+it is with my father; early rising is his hobby--his pet theory--the
+keystone that binds the structure of health together. Well, it is a
+respectable theory, but my father need not expect an enlightened and
+progressive generation to subscribe to it. The early hours of the
+morning are not good for men and mice, only for birds and bricklayers,
+and worms weary of existence."
+
+Tom looked on, secretly amused, as his father smiled indulgently at Miss
+Sefton's confession of indolence. He asked her how she had slept, and
+made room for her beside him, and then questioned her about her intended
+journey, and finally arranged to drive her to the station before he went
+on his usual round.
+
+An hour afterward the whole family collected in the hall to see Miss
+Sefton off. Edna bid them good-bye in her easy, friendly fashion, but as
+she took Bessie's hand, she said:
+
+"Good-bye, dear. I have an idea that we shall soon meet again. I shall
+not let you forget me;" and then she put up her face to be kissed.
+
+"I am not likely to forget you," thought Bessie, as Edna waved her
+little gloved hand to them all; "one could soon get fond of her."
+
+"How nice it must be to be rich," sighed Christine, who was standing
+beside Bessie. "Miss Sefton is very little older than we are, and yet
+she has lovely diamond and emerald rings. Did you see her dressing bag?
+It was filled up so beautifully; its bottles silver mounted; it must
+have cost thirty guineas, at least. And then her furs; I should like to
+be in her place."
+
+"I should not envy Miss Sefton because she is rich," retorted Hatty
+disdainfully. "I would rather change places with her because she is so
+strong and so pretty. I did like looking at her so much, and so did Tom.
+Didn't you, Tom?"
+
+"I say, I wish you girls would shut up or clear off," responded Tom
+crossly; for things felt a little flat this morning. "How is a fellow to
+work with all this chattering going on round him?"
+
+"Why, you haven't opened your books yet," replied Hatty, in an aggrieved
+voice; but Bessie hastily interposed:
+
+"Tom is quite right to want the room to himself. Come along, girls, let
+us go to mother in the morning-room; we might do some of our plain
+sewing, and then I can tell you about Aunt Charlotte. It is so long
+since we have been cosy together, and our needles will fly while we
+talk--eh, Hatty?"
+
+"There are those night shirts to finish," said Christine disconsolately;
+"they ought to have been done long ago, but Hatty was always saying her
+back ached when I wanted her help, and I could not get on with them by
+myself."
+
+"Never mind, we will all set to work vigorously," and Bessie tripped
+away to find her work basket. The morning-room, as they called it, was a
+small room leading out of the drawing-room, with an old-fashioned bay
+window looking out on the garden.
+
+There was a circular cushioned seat running round the bay, with a small
+table in the middle, and this was the place where the girls loved to sit
+and sew, while their tongues kept pace with their needles. When Hatty's
+back ached, or the light made her head throb with pain, she used to
+bring her low chair and leave the recess to Bessie and Christine.
+
+The two younger girls went to school.
+
+As Hatty brought her work (she was very skilful with the needle, and
+neither of her sisters could vie with her in delicate embroidery), she
+slipped a cold little hand into Bessie's.
+
+"It is so lovely to have you back, Betty, dear," she whispered. "I woke
+quite happy this morning to know I should see you downstairs."
+
+"I think it is lovely to be home," returned Bessie, with a beaming
+smile. "I am sure that is half the pleasure of going away--the coming
+back again. I don't know how I should feel if I went to stay at any
+grand place; but it always seems to me now that home is the most
+delicious place in the world; it never looks shabby to me as it does to
+Tom; it is just homelike."
+
+Mrs. Lambert, who was sitting apart from the girls, busy with her weekly
+accounts, looked up at hearing her daughter's speech.
+
+"That is right, dear," she said gently, "that is just how I like to hear
+you speak; it would grieve me if my girls were to grow discontented with
+their home, as some young ladies do."
+
+"Bessie is not like that, mother," interposed Hatty eagerly.
+
+"No, Hatty, we know that, do we not? What do you think father said the
+other day, Bessie? He said, 'I shall be glad when we get Bessie back,
+for the place does not seem like itself when she is away.' That was a
+high compliment from father."
+
+"Indeed it was," returned Bessie; and she blushed with pleasure. "Every
+one likes to be missed; but I hope you didn't want me too much, mother."
+
+"No, dear; but, like father, I am glad to get you back again." And the
+mother's eyes rested fondly on the girl's face. "Now you must not make
+me idle, for I have all these accounts to do, and some notes to write.
+Go on with your talking; it will not interrupt me."
+
+It spoke well for the Lambert girls that their mother's presence never
+interfered with them; they talked as freely before her as other girls do
+in their parent's absence. From children they had never been repressed
+nor unnaturally subdued; their childish preferences and tastes had been
+known and respected; no thoughtless criticism had wounded their
+susceptibility; imperceptibly and gently maternal advice had guided and
+restrained them.
+
+"We tell mother everything, and she likes to hear it," Ella and Katie
+would say to their school-fellows.
+
+"We never have secrets from her," Ella added. "Katie did once, and
+mother was so hurt that she cried about it. Don't you recollect, Katie?"
+
+"Yes, and it is horrid of you to remind me," returned Katie wrathfully,
+and she walked away in high dudgeon; the recollection was not a pleasant
+one. Katie's soft heart had been pierced by her mother's unfeigned grief
+and tender reproaches.
+
+"You are the only one of all my little girls who ever hid anything from
+me. No, I am not angry with you, Katie, and I will kiss you as much as
+you like," for Katie's arms were round her neck in a moment; "but you
+have made mother cry, because you do not love her as she does you."
+
+"Mother shall never cry again on my account," thought Katie; and,
+strange to say, the tendency to secretiveness in the child's nature
+seemed cured from that day. Katie ever afterward confessed her
+misdemeanors and the accidents that happen to the best-regulated
+children with a frankness that bordered on bluntness.
+
+"I have done it, mother," she would say, "but somehow I don't feel a bit
+sorry. I rather liked hurting Ella's feelings; it seemed to serve her
+right."
+
+"Perhaps when we have talked about it a little you will feel sorry," her
+mother would reply quietly; "but I have no time for talking just now."
+
+Mrs. Lambert was always very busy; on these occasions she never found
+time for a heated and angry discussion. When Katie's hot cheeks had
+cooled a little, and her childish wrath had evaporated, she would
+quietly argue the point with her. It was an odd thing that Katie
+generally apologized of her own accord afterward--generally owned
+herself the offender.
+
+"Somehow you make things look different, mother," she would say, "I
+can't think why they all seem topsy-turvy to me."
+
+"When you are older I will lend you my spectacles," her mother returned,
+smiling. "Now run and kiss Ella, and pray don't forget next time that
+she is two years older; it can't possibly be a younger sister's duty to
+contradict her on every occasion."
+
+It was in this way that Mrs. Lambert had influenced her children, and
+she had reaped a rich harvest for her painstaking, patient labors with
+them, in the freely bestowed love and confidence with which her grown-up
+daughters regarded her. Now, as she sat apart, the sound of their fresh
+young voices was the sweetest music to her; not for worlds would she
+have allowed her own inward sadness to damp their spirits, but more than
+once the pen rested in her hand, and her attention wandered.
+
+Outside the wintry sun was streaming on the leafless trees and snowy
+lawns; some thrushes and sparrows were bathing in the pan of water that
+Katie had placed there that morning.
+
+"Let us go for a long walk this afternoon," Christine was saying,
+"through the Coombe Woods, and round by Summerford, and down by the
+quarry."
+
+"Even Bessie forgets that it will be Frank's birthday to-morrow,"
+thought Mrs. Lambert. "My darling boy, I wonder if he remembers it
+there; if the angels tell him that his mother is thinking of him. That
+is just what one longs to know--if they remember;" and then she sighed,
+and pushed her papers aside, and no one saw the sadness of her face as
+she went out. Meanwhile Bessie was relating how she had spent the last
+three weeks.
+
+"I can't think how you could endure it," observed Christine, as soon as
+she had finished. "Aunt Charlotte is very nice, of course; she is
+father's sister, and we ought to think so; but she leads such a dull
+life, and then Cronyhurst is such an ugly village."
+
+"It is not dull to her, but then you see it is her life. People look on
+their own lives with such different eyes. Yes, it was very quiet at
+Cronyhurst; the roads were too bad for walking, and we had a great deal
+of snow; but we worked and talked, and sometimes I read aloud, and so
+the days were not so long after all."
+
+"I should have come home at the end of a week," returned Christine;
+"three weeks at Cronyhurst in the winter is too dreadful. It was real
+self-sacrifice on your part, Bessie; even father said so; he declared it
+was too bad of Aunt Charlotte to ask you at such a season of the year."
+
+"I don't see that. Aunt Charlotte liked having me, and I was very
+willing to stay with her, and we had such nice talks. I don't see that
+she is to be pitied at all. She has never married, and she lives alone,
+but she is perfectly contented with her life. She has her garden and her
+chickens, and her poor people. We used to go into some of the cottages
+when the weather allowed us to go out, and all the people seemed so
+pleased to see her. Aunt Charlotte is a good woman, and good people are
+generally happy. I know what Tom says about old maids," continued Bessie
+presently, "but that is all nonsense. Aunt Charlotte says she is far
+better off as she is than many married people she knows. 'Married people
+may double their pleasures,' as folks say, 'but they treble their cares,
+too,' I have heard her remark; 'and there is a great deal to be said in
+favor of freedom. When there is no one to praise there is no one to
+blame, and if there is no one to love there is no one to lose, and I
+have always been content myself with single blessedness.' Do you
+remember poor Uncle Joe's saying, 'The mare that goes in single harness
+does not get so many kicks?'"
+
+"Yes, I know Aunt Charlotte's way of talking; but I dare say no one
+wanted to marry her, so she makes the best of her circumstances."
+
+Bessie could not help laughing at Christine's bluntness.
+
+"Well, you are right, Chrissy; but Aunt Charlotte is not the least
+ashamed of the fact. She told me once that no one had ever fallen in
+love with her, 'I could not expect them to do so,' she remarked
+candidly. 'As a girl I was plain featured, and so shy and awkward that
+your Uncle Joe used to tell me that I was the only ugly duckling that
+would never turn into a swan.'"
+
+"What a shame of Uncle Joe!"
+
+"I don't think Aunt Charlotte took it much to heart. She says her hard
+life and many troubles drove all nonsense thoughts out of her head. Why,
+grandmamma was ill eight years, you know, and Aunt Charlotte nursed her
+all that time. I am sure when she used to come to my bedside of a night,
+and tuck me up with a motherly kiss, I used to think her face looked
+almost beautiful, it was so full of kindness. Somehow I fancy when I am
+old," added Bessie pensively, "I shall not care so much about my looks
+nor my wrinkles, if people will only think I am a comfortable,
+kind-hearted sort of a person."
+
+"You will be the dearest old lady in the world," returned Hatty,
+dropping her work with an adoring look at her Betty. "You are cosier
+than other people now, so you are sure to be nicer than ever when you
+are old. No wonder Aunt Charlotte loved to have you."
+
+"What a little flatterer you are, Hatty! It is a comfort that I don't
+grow vain. Do you know, I think Aunt Charlotte taught me a great deal.
+When you get over her little mannerisms and odd ways, you soon find out
+what a good woman she really is. She is always thinking of other people;
+what she can do to lighten their burdens; and little things give her so
+much pleasure. She says the first violet she picks in the hedgerow, or
+the sight of a pair of thrushes building their nest in the acacia tree,
+makes her feel as happy as a child; 'for in spring,' she said once, 'all
+the world is full of young life, and the buds are bursting into flowers,
+and they remind me that one day I shall be young and beautiful too.'"
+
+"I think I should like to go and stay with Aunt Charlotte," observed
+Hatty, "if you think she would care to have me."
+
+"I am sure she would, dear. Aunt Charlotte loves to take care of
+people. You most go in the summer, Hatty; the cottage is so pretty then,
+and you could be out in the garden or in the lanes all day. June is the
+best month, for they will be making hay in the meadows, and you could
+sit on the porch and smell the roses, and watch Aunt Charlotte's bees
+filling their honey bags. It is just the place for you, Hatty--so still
+and quiet."
+
+This sort of talk lasted most of the morning, until Ella and Katie
+returned from school, and Tom sauntered into the room, flushed with his
+mental labors, and ready to seek relaxation in his sisters' company.
+
+Bessie left the room and went in search of her mother; when she
+returned, a quarter of an hour later, she found Tom sulky and Hatty in
+tears.
+
+"It is no use trying to keep the peace," observed Christine, in a vexed
+tone. "Tom will tease Hatty, and then she gets cross, and there is no
+silencing either of them."
+
+"Come with me, Hatty dear, and help me put my room in order. I have to
+finish my unpacking," said Bessie soothingly. "You have been working too
+long, and so has Tom. I shall leave him to you, Chrissy." And as Hatty
+only moaned a little in her handkerchief, Bessie took the work forcibly
+away, and then coaxed her out of the room.
+
+"Why is Tom so horrid to me?" sobbed Hatty "I don't believe he loves me
+a bit. I was having such a happy morning, and he came in and spoiled
+all."
+
+"Never mind about Tom. No one cares for his teasing, except you, Hatty.
+I would not let him see you mind everything he chooses to say. He will
+only think you a baby for crying. Now, do help me arrange this drawer,
+for dinner will be ready in a quarter of an hour, and the floor is just
+strewn with clothes. If it makes your head ache to stoop, I will just
+hand you the things; but no one else can put them away so tidily."
+
+The artful little bait took. Of all things Hatty loved to be of use to
+any one. In another moment she had dried her eyes and set to work, her
+miserable little face grew cheerful, and Tom's sneering speeches were
+forgotten.
+
+"Why, I do believe that is Hatty laughing!" exclaimed Christine, as the
+dinner-bell sounded, and she passed the door with her mother. "It is
+splendid, the way Bessie manages Hatty. I wish some of us could learn
+the art, for all this wrangling with Tom is so tiresome."
+
+"Bessie never loses patience with her," returned her mother; "never lets
+her feel that she is a trouble. I think you will find that is the secret
+of Bessie's influence. Your father and I are often grateful to her.
+'What would that poor child do without her?' as your father often says;
+and I do believe her health would often suffer if Bessie did not turn
+her thoughts away from the things that were fretting her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE OATLANDS POST-MARK.
+
+
+One day, about three months after her adventure in the Sheen Valley,
+Bessie was climbing up the steep road that led to the Lamberts' house.
+It was a lovely spring afternoon, and Bessie was enjoying the fresh
+breeze that was blowing up from the bay. Cliffe was steeped in sunshine,
+the air was permeated with the fragrance of lilac blended with the faint
+odors of the pink and white May blossoms. The flower-sellers' baskets in
+the town were full of dark-red wallflowers and lovely hyacinths. The
+birds were singing nursery lullabies over their nests in the Coombe
+Woods, and even the sleek donkeys, dragging up some invalids from the
+Parade in their trim little chairs, seemed to toil more willingly in the
+sweet spring sunshine.
+
+"How happy the world looks to-day!" said Bessie to herself; and perhaps
+this pleasant thought was reflected in her face, for more than one
+passer-by glanced at her half enviously. Bessie did not notice them; her
+soft gray eyes were fixed on the blue sky above her, or on the glimpses
+of water between the houses. Just before she turned into the avenue that
+led to the house, she stopped to admire the view. She was at the summit
+of the hill now; below her lay the town; where she stood she could look
+over the housetops to the shining water of the bay, with its rocky
+island in the middle. Bessie always called it the bay, but in reality it
+resembled a lake, it was so landlocked, so closed in by the opposite
+shore, except in one part; but the smooth expanse of water, shining in
+the sunlight, lacked the freedom and wild freshness of the open sea,
+though Bessie would look intently to a distant part, where nothing, as
+she knew, came between her and the Atlantic. "If we only went far
+enough, we should reach America; that gives one the idea of freedom and
+vastness," she thought.
+
+Bessie held the idea that Cliffe-on-Sea was one of the prettiest places
+in England, and it was certainly not devoid of picturesqueness.
+
+The houses were mostly built of stone, hewn out of the quarry, and were
+perched up in surprisingly unexpected places--some of them built against
+the rock, their windows commanding extensive views of the surrounding
+country. The quarry was near the Lamberts' house, and the Coombe Woods
+stretched above it for miles. Bessie's favorite walk was the long road
+that skirted the woods. On one side were the hanging woods, and on the
+other the bay. Through the trees one could see the gleam of water, and
+on summer evenings the Lambert girls would often sit on the rocks with
+their work and books, preferring the peaceful stillness to the Parade
+crowded with strangers listening to the band. When their mother or Tom
+was with them, they would often linger until the stars came out or the
+moon rose. How glorious the water looked then, bathed in silvery
+radiance, like an enchanted lake! How dark and sombre the woods! What
+strange shadows used to lurk among the trees! Hatty would creep to
+Bessie's side, as they walked, especially if Tom indulged in one of his
+ghost stories.
+
+"What is the use of repeating all that rubbish, Tom?" Bessie would say,
+in her sturdy fashion. "Do you think any one would hear us if we sung
+one of our glees? That will be better than talking about headless bogies
+to scare Hatty. I like singing by moonlight."
+
+Well, they were just healthy, happy young people, who knew how to make
+the most of small pleasures. "Every one could have air and sunshine and
+good spirits," Bessie used to say, "if they ailed nothing and kept their
+consciences in good order. Laughing cost nothing, and talking was the
+cheapest amusement she knew."
+
+"That depends," replied her father oracularly, on overhearing this
+remark. "Words are dear enough sometimes. You are a wise woman, Bessie,
+but you have plenty to learn yet. We all have to buy experience
+ourselves. I don't want you to get your wisdom second-hand; second-hand
+articles don't last; so laugh away, child, as long as you can."
+
+"I love spring," thought Bessie, as she walked on. "I always did like
+bright things best. I wonder why I feel so hopeful to-day, just as
+though I expected something pleasant to happen. Nothing ever does
+happen, as Chriss says. Just a letter from Tom, telling us his news, or
+an invitation to tea with a neighbor, or perhaps a drive out into the
+country with father. Well, they are not big things, but they are
+pleasant, for all that. I do like a long talk with father, when he has
+no troublesome case on his mind, and can give me all his attention. I
+think there is no treat like it; but I mean Hatty to have the next turn.
+She has been good lately; but she looks pale and dwindled. I am not half
+comfortable about her." And here Bessie broke off her cogitations, for
+at that moment Katie rushed out of the house and began dancing up and
+down, waving a letter over her head.
+
+"What a time you have been!" cried the child excitedly. "I have been
+watching for you for half an hour. Here is a letter for your own self,
+and it is not from Aunt Charlotte nor Uncle Charles, nor any old fogy
+at all."
+
+"Give it to me, please," returned Bessie. "I suppose it is from Tom,
+though why you should make such a fuss about it, as though no one ever
+got a letter, passes my comprehension. No, it is from Miss Sefton; I
+recognize her handwriting;" which was true, as Bessie had received a
+note from Edna a few days after she had left them, conveying her own and
+her mother's thanks for the kind hospitality she had received.
+
+"Of course it is from Miss Sefton; there's the Oatlands post-mark. Ella
+and I were trying to guess what was in it; we thought that perhaps, as
+Mrs. Sefton is so rich, she might have sent you a present for being so
+kind to her daughter; that was Ella's idea. Do open it quickly, Bessie;
+what is the use of looking at the envelope?"
+
+"I am afraid I can't satisfy your curiosity just yet, Kitty. Hatty is
+waiting for the silks I have been matching, and mother will want to know
+how old Mrs. Wright is. Duty before pleasure," finished Bessie, with
+good-humored peremptoriness, as she marched off in the direction of the
+morning-room.
+
+"Bessie is getting dreadfully old-maidish," observed Katie, in a sulky
+voice. "She never used to be so proper. I suppose she thinks it is none
+of my business."
+
+When Bessie had got through her list of commissions she sat down to
+enjoy her letter quietly, but before she had read many lines her color
+rose, and a half-stifled exclamation of surprise came from her lips;
+but, in spite of Hatty's curious questions, she read steadily to the
+end, and then laid the letter on her mother's lap.
+
+"Oh, mother, do let me hear it," implored Hatty, with the persistence of
+a spoiled child. "I am sure there is something splendid about Bessie,
+and I do hate mysteries."
+
+"So do I, Hatty; we think alike there. Shall I read it aloud, my dear?"
+and as Bessie nodded, Mrs. Lambert read the letter in her quiet, silvery
+voice:
+
+    "MY DEAR MISS LAMBERT," it began; "I told you that I should not
+    allow you to forget me, so, you see, I am keeping my promise
+    like a reliable young woman. Mamma says I have made a bad
+    commencement to my letter--that self-praise is no
+    recommendation. I think I remember that profoundly wise saying
+    in copy-book days; but I hold a more worldly view of the
+    subject. I think people are taken at their own value; so, on
+    principle, I never undervalue myself; and the gist of all this
+    is that I do not intend to be forgotten by a certain young lady
+    who enacted the part of Good Samaritan in the Sheen Valley.
+
+    "Now, as I must candidly confess to a sincere wish for a better
+    acquaintance with this same young lady, I am writing in my own
+    and mamma's name to beg you to favor us with your company at The
+    Grange for a few weeks.
+
+    "You must not think this is a very unconventional proceeding on
+    our part, as our parents were old friends. Mamma is writing to
+    Dr. Lambert by the same post, and she means to say all sorts of
+    pretty things to induce him to intrust you to our care.
+
+    "I wish I had the power of persuasion. Mamma has such a knack of
+    saying nice things, but indeed you must come. The Grange is such
+    a dear old house, and we know such pleasant people, and I want
+    you to see our Kentish lanes, and indeed mamma and I will make
+    you so comfortable. I don't mention Richard, because he is
+    nobody, and he never interferes with our friends.
+
+    "Now I am taking it for granted that you will not refuse me, so
+    I will proceed to tell you our arrangements. Mamma and I have
+    been in town the last five weeks, and we are both of us tired to
+    death of Vanity Fair, so we mean to go back to Oatlands next
+    week. You may come to us as soon after that as you like; fix
+    your own day and your train, and I will be at the station to
+    meet you.
+
+        "I remain, yours most sincerely,
+            "EDNA SEFTON."
+
+"Oh, Bessie, how delightful! But I don't like to spare you again so
+soon."
+
+"Now, Hatty, don't be selfish. You must not grudge Bessie the first real
+treat she has ever had offered to her. We have none of us had such a
+chance before. Fancy staying at a place like The Grange, and seeing lots
+of nice people."
+
+"I wish you could go in my place, Chrissy, dear. I am not quite sure how
+I should like staying with strange people; we have got into homely ways,
+never going anywhere except to Aunt Charlotte's or Uncle Charles', and
+I don't know how I should get on with rich people like the Sefton's;
+besides, father and mother may not wish me to accept the invitation,"
+glancing at her mother's thoughtful face.
+
+"We must see what your father says about it," returned Mrs. Lambert,
+rousing herself with difficulty from her abstraction. "I would not talk
+about it any more, girls, until we know his wishes. It will only
+disappoint Bessie if she makes up her mind that she would like to accept
+the invitation, and father thinks it wiser to refuse. Let us put it out
+of our heads until he comes home, and he and I will have a talk about
+it."
+
+"Yes, that will be best," returned Bessie, putting the letter in the
+envelope. "Father will not be home until late, but that does not matter;
+to-morrow will do quite well." And, to her sister's surprise and
+disappointment, she refused to say any more on the subject.
+
+"Mother is quite right," she observed, as Hatty fussed and grumbled at
+her silence. "If we talk about it, I shall just long to go, and shall be
+vexed and disappointed if father wishes me to refuse."
+
+"But you might coax him to change his mind. Father never likes
+disappointing us when we set our hearts on anything," urged Hatty.
+
+"No, indeed; I never like arguing things with father. He is not one to
+make up his mind in a hurry, like some people; he thinks over a thing
+thoroughly, and then he gives his opinion. If he does not wish me to go,
+he will have a good reason for saying so. I never found either father or
+mother wrong yet, and I am not going to find fault with them now. Don't
+let us talk any more about it, Hatty. I want to think of something
+else." But, in spite of this wise resolution, Bessie did think a good
+deal about the letter, and in her heart she hoped that her father would
+allow her to accept Miss Sefton's tempting invitation.
+
+Dr. Lambert did not return home that night until long after his girls
+had retired to rest, and to Bessie's surprise he said nothing to her at
+breakfast; but just as she was leaving the room to give out the stores,
+as usual, he called her back. "Oh, by the by, Bessie," he observed, "I
+have to drive out as far as Castleton this afternoon. I will take you
+with me if you care to go."
+
+"I always care to go with you, father dear," replied Bessie, and then
+she hesitated, as she remembered Hatty's pale cheeks; "but I think you
+ought to take Hatty instead; it would do her so much good, and she does
+so love a drive."
+
+"No, I think you shall be my companion this afternoon; I will take Hatty
+to-morrow," replied the doctor, as he took up his paper again.
+
+"Good child, she always thinks of poor Hatty," he said to himself, and
+his eyes glistened. "They are all good girls, but not one of them is so
+unselfish as my little Betty; she takes after her mother in that. Dora
+never thinks of herself."
+
+Bessie went about her household tasks with a light heart, for she had
+the prospect of a pleasant afternoon before her. The drive to Castleton
+would be lovely, and she would hear what her father had to say about the
+letter. So she was ready and waiting by the time the pretty little
+victoria came around to the door, and as Dr. Lambert stood on the porch,
+he thought the happy, sunshiny face looked very attractive under the new
+gray hat.
+
+"You look very smart, Bessie," he said, smiling. "Have I seen that very
+becoming hat before?"
+
+"Only last Sunday," returned Bessie brightly; "but I always put on my
+best things when I drive with you, that your daughter may do you
+credit;" for Bessie in her heart thought her father the handsomest man
+in Cliffe; and indeed many people admired the doctor's clever, refined
+face, and quiet, genial manners.
+
+The sturdy little roan trotted briskly down the lower road, as it was
+called, and Bessie leaned back and looked dreamily at the golden ripples
+that lay on the water, while the branches overhead threw flickering
+shadows on the road before them, until her father's voice roused her.
+
+"You and I are to have some talk together, I believe. Would you like to
+see Mrs. Sefton's letter, Bessie? Your mother showed me the one you
+received from her daughter." And as Bessie eagerly assented, he handed
+it to her.
+
+"It is a very nice letter," she observed, as soon as she had finished
+it; "it could not be more kindly expressed."
+
+"No; Mrs. Sefton is a ladylike woman, and she knows exactly what to say.
+It is a grand thing to have tact." And then he paused for a moment, and
+continued in an amused voice, "The world is a very small place after
+all. I have lived long enough in it not to be surprised at running
+against all sorts of odd people in all sorts of odd places, but I must
+own I was a little taken aback when you brought Miss Sefton into my
+house that night."
+
+"You knew Mrs. Sefton when you were a young man, father?"
+
+"I suppose I knew her fairly well, for I was engaged to her for six
+months." And as Bessie started, "Well, you will think that an odd speech
+for a father to make to his daughter, but, you see, I know our Bessie is
+a reliable little woman, who can keep her tongue silent. I have my
+reasons for telling you this. You have always been your mother's
+companion, as well as my right hand, and I would not let you go to The
+Grange in ignorance of the character of its inhabitants."
+
+"Oh, father, do you really mean me to go?"
+
+"We will come to that presently; let me finish what I was saying. I was
+fool enough to engage myself to a beautiful girl, knowing her to be
+unsuitable in every way for a poor man's wife, and I dare say I should
+have persisted in my blindness to the bitter end, if I had not been
+jilted by the young lady."
+
+"My dear father!"
+
+"My dear little Betty, please don't speak in that pitying tone; it was
+the best thing that could have happened to me. I dare say I had a bad
+time of it; young men are such fools; but I soon met your mother, and
+she healed all wounds; but if Eleanor Sartoris treated me badly, she met
+with her punishment. The man she married was a worthless sort of a
+fellow; he is dead, so I need not mind saying so now. He was handsome
+enough and had all the accomplishments that please women, but he could
+not speak the truth. I never knew a man who could lie so freely, and in
+other respects he was equally faulty, but Eleanor was infatuated, and
+she would marry him against the advice of her friends, and the first
+thing she found out was that he had deceived her on one point. She knew
+that he had married when almost a boy, and his wife had been long dead,
+but he kept from her that he had a son living. His excuse was that he
+had heard her say that nothing would induce her to undertake the duties
+of a stepmother, and that he feared a refusal on account of Richard. In
+this he had overreached himself; she never forgave the deception, and
+she barely tolerated the poor boy. I am afraid, from what I heard, that
+their short married life was not a happy one. Eleanor had a proud,
+jealous temper, but she was truthful by nature, and nothing was so
+odious in her eyes as falsehood and deceit. I can feel sorry for her,
+for no woman could respect a character like Sefton's, but I have always
+blamed her for her hardness to her stepson. His father doted on him, and
+Richard was the chief subject of their dissension on his death bed. He
+begged his wife to be kinder to the boy, but I do not know if this
+appeal softened her. The property belongs, of course, to her stepson,
+and in a sense she and her daughter are dependent on him, but it is not
+a united household. I know very little about the young man, except that
+he is industrious and fond of out-of-door pursuits, and farms his own
+estate; but I hear he is a little clownish in appearance. Now we are
+stopping, because I have a patient to see here, but I shall not be ten
+minutes, and we will resume our conversation presently."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+LITTLE MISS MUCH-AFRAID.
+
+
+Bessie had plenty of food for meditation while Dr. Lambert paid his
+visit to his patient, and he found her apparently absorbed in a brown
+study when he returned to the carriage.
+
+"Father dear," she said, rousing herself, as he placed himself beside
+her, "I have been thinking over all you have told me, and I cannot help
+wondering why you wish me to visit Mrs. Sefton, when she treated you so
+badly."
+
+Dr. Lambert was silent for a minute; the question was not an easy one to
+answer. His wife had said the very same thing to him the previous
+evening:
+
+"I wonder that you care to let Bessie visit at The Grange, when Eleanor
+Sartoris treated you so badly." And then she added, "I think she is very
+much to blame, too, for her behavior to her stepson. Margaret Tillotson
+tells me that he is an honest, good-hearted fellow, though not very
+clever, but that want of appreciation has made him shy and awkward."
+
+But he had been able to satisfy his wife without much difficulty. All
+their married life there had never been a shadow of a doubt between
+them; her calm, reasonable judgment had wholly approved her husband's
+conduct on all occasions; whatever he did or said had been right in her
+eyes, and she had brought up her daughters to think the same.
+
+"Well, do you know, Bessie," he said playfully, "I have more reasons
+than one for wishing you to go to The Grange? I have taken a fancy to
+Miss Sefton, and I want her mother to be acquainted with my daughter;
+and I think it will be good for you to extend your knowledge of the
+world. You girls are tied too much to your mother's apron-strings, and
+you must learn to do without her sometimes."
+
+This was all very well, but though Bessie smilingly accepted this
+explanation of her father's motives in permitting her to go to Oatlands,
+she was clever enough to know that more lay behind.
+
+Dr. Lambert had long ago forgiven the injury that had been done to him.
+His nature was a generous one; good had come out of evil, and he was
+tolerant enough to feel a kindly interest in Mrs. Sefton as an old
+friend. It is true she had created her own troubles, but in spite of
+that he could be sorry for her. Like a foolish woman she had built her
+life's hopes upon a shifting, sandy foundation; she had looked on the
+outward appearance, and a fair exterior had blinded her to the
+hollowness beneath. The result was bitterness and disappointment.
+
+"I should like her to see our Bessie," he had said to his wife. "Bessie
+is just like a sunbeam; she will do her good, and even if things are
+different from what she sees at home, it will do her no harm to know how
+other people live. Our girls are good girls, but I do not want them to
+live like nuns behind a grating; let them go out into the world a
+little, and enlarge their minds. If it were Christine, I might hesitate
+before such an experiment, but I have perfect confidence in Bessie."
+
+And his wife's answer to this had been:
+
+"I am quite sure you are right, Herbert, and I am perfectly willing to
+let Bessie visit your old friend." And so the matter ended. The doctor
+got his way as usual, simply by wishing for it.
+
+The drive was a long one, but it seemed short to Bessie, and she was
+quite sorry when it was over.
+
+"Thank you, father dear, it has been such a treat," she said, with a
+loving little squeeze of his arm; and then she ran in to find her
+mother.
+
+Mrs. Lambert looked up inquiringly as Bessie took off her hat and
+gloves.
+
+"Well, my dear, have father and you settled it?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, mother; and I am really to go. Father seems to like the
+idea. He has evidently fallen in love with Miss Sefton. I am afraid I am
+a great deal too much excited about it at present, but Hatty will soon
+damp me."
+
+"Poor child! she never likes you to go away. She does not mean to be
+selfish, and I know she struggles hard to control her feelings, but she
+will have a good cry when she hears you are going to Oatlands."
+
+"We must not let her mope, mother. If I thought it were good for Hatty I
+would stay at home, to prevent her feeling so miserable, but it would be
+false kindness to give in to her; she would hate herself for her
+selfishness, and she would not be a bit happy if she knew she had
+prevented my visit. I would rather see her fret before I go, and bear it
+as well as I can, and then I know she will cheer up soon and be looking
+forward to my return."
+
+"You are quite right, Bessie, and neither your father nor I would allow
+you to sacrifice yourself for Hatty. Too much indulgence on your part
+would only feed the poor child's nervous fancies. I know she feels her
+parting with you for a week or two as a serious trial, and I dare say it
+is a trial to her, but she must take it as one, and not selfishly spoil
+your pleasure. Now we will forget Hatty for a few minutes; there is
+something else troubling me. How are you to be fitted out for your
+visit, when I dare not ask your father for any more money?"
+
+"Well, I have thought about that, too," returned Bessie briskly. "I was
+reviewing my wardrobe all the time father was at Castleton House. He was
+quite half an hour away, so I had plenty of time. I was a little worried
+at first, thinking how I should manage, but somehow I made it all
+straight. Listen to me, mother, dear," as Mrs. Lambert sighed and shook
+her head. "Miss Sefton has been here, so she knows we are not rich
+people, and she will not expect to see many smart dresses. I don't want
+to pretend to be what I am not. We cannot afford to dress grandly, nor
+to have many new frocks, but I am sure we are just as happy without
+them."
+
+"Yes; but you never have stayed with rich people before, Bessie,"
+returned her mother sadly. "You do not know how shabby your old things
+will look beside other people's silks and satins. Father does not think
+about these things, and I do not like to remind him; but you ought to
+have a new jacket, though we did say the old one would do this year."
+
+"Now, mother, will you be quiet, please, and listen to me? for I am
+brimful of ideas, and I won't have you worry. The jacket must do, for I
+do not mean to ask father for a new one. I have my gray dress and hat,
+and father thinks they are very becoming; and there is my Indian muslin
+Uncle Charles gave me for best occasions, and if you will let me buy a
+few yards of white nun's-cloth Chrissy and I will contrive a pretty
+dinner-dress. I like white best, because one can wear different flowers,
+and so make a change. Perhaps I must have a pair of new gloves, and some
+shoes; but those won't cost much."
+
+"You are easily satisfied, darling," replied Mrs. Lambert fondly. "Yes,
+you shall have the nun's-cloth, and I will give you some of my lace to
+trim it. And there are the pearls that I wore on my wedding-day. Your
+father is so fond of them, but I always told him they were put aside for
+you. Wait a moment; they are in my escritoire, and you may as well have
+them now." And Mrs. Lambert unlocked the door, and opening a little box,
+placed the necklace in Bessie's hand. It consisted of three rows of tiny
+pearls, and was very simple and pretty.
+
+"Oh, mother, how lovely!" exclaimed the girl. "Is it really for me? That
+is just what I wanted; my gold chain is so thin that I hardly ever dare
+to wear it. It has been broken twice. But this is far prettier." And
+Bessie clasped the little necklace around her neck, and then went off
+proudly to show her treasure to Christine and Hatty, while Mrs. Lambert
+shed a few tears at the thought how little she had to give her girls.
+The next moment she dashed them away indignantly.
+
+"I ought to be ashamed of myself," she thought. "What would Herbert say
+if he found me crying in this childish way? What do our girls want with
+ornaments and pretty dresses? They have youth and good looks and
+manners. My Bessie is a perfect gentlewoman, in spite of her shabby
+frocks. No one could help being pleased with her gentle, modest ways. I
+expect it is my pride. I did not want Mrs. Sefton to think we are not
+rich. But I am wrong; my girls are rich. They are rich in having such a
+father, and in their own happy natures." And then Mrs. Lambert thought
+of those other ornaments that she desired for them--the ornament of a
+meek and quiet spirit; the priceless jewels of innocence and purity,
+which are the fairest adornments of a young girl.
+
+"These will not be lacking," she said to herself. "My Bessie's
+unobtrusive goodness will soon make itself felt."
+
+Bessie had made up her mind not to trouble about her scanty wardrobe,
+and she was quite happy planning the nun's-cloth dress with Christine.
+
+But though Dr. Lambert said nothing, he thought a great deal, and the
+result of his cogitations was, a five-pound note was slipped into
+Bessie's hand the next evening.
+
+"Go and buy yourself some finery with that," he observed quietly.
+
+Bessie could hardly sleep that night, she was so busy spending the money
+in anticipation; and the very next day she was the delighted purchaser
+of a new spring jacket and had laid out the remainder of the five-pound
+note in a useful black and white tweed for daily use, and a pretty lilac
+cotton, and she had even eked out a pair of gloves.
+
+Three dresses to be made; no wonder they were busy; even Mrs. Lambert
+was pressed into the service to sew over seams and make buttonholes.
+
+Hatty never complained her back ached when she worked for Bessie; her
+thin little hands executed marvelous feats of fine workmanship; all the
+finer parts were intrusted to Hatty.
+
+"I feel almost as though I were going to be married," observed Bessie,
+as she surveyed the fresh, dainty dresses. "I never had more than one
+new gown at a time. Now they are finished, and you are tired, Hatty, and
+you must go and lie down, like a good child."
+
+"I am not tired, not a bit," returned Hatty touchily; "and I am going
+out with Ella."
+
+Bessie held her peace. Hatty's temper had been very trying for the last
+three days; she had slaved for Bessie to the detriment of her health,
+but had worn an injured manner all the time.
+
+She would not join in the conversation, nor understand a joking remark.
+When Christine laughed at her in a good-humored way, Hatty pursed up her
+lips, and drew herself up in a huffy manner, and would not condescend to
+speak a word. She even rejected Bessie's caresses and little attempts at
+petting. "Don't, Bessie. I must go on with my work; I wish you would
+leave me alone," she would say pettishly.
+
+Bessie did leave her alone, but it made her heart ache to see the lines
+under Hatty's eyes, that showed she had cried herself to sleep. She knew
+it was unhappiness and not temper that was the cause of her
+irritability.
+
+"She is ashamed of letting me know that she cannot bear me to go away,"
+she thought. "She is trying to get the better of her selfishness, but it
+conquers her. I will leave her alone for a little, and then I will have
+it all out. I could not go away and leave her like that." For Bessie's
+warm, affectionate nature could not endure the thought of Hatty's pain.
+
+"I have so much, and she has so little," she said to herself, and her
+pity blunted all Hatty's sharp, sarcastic little speeches and took the
+sting out of them. "Poor little thing! she does not mean half she
+says," she remarked, as a sort of apology to Christine, when Hatty had
+marched off with Ella.
+
+"I don't know how you put up with her as you do," observed Christine,
+whose patience had been sorely exercised that morning by Hatty's
+tempers. "She is treating you as badly as possible. I would rather have
+been without her help, if I had been you; we might have had Miss Markham
+in for two days; that would have shamed Hatty nicely."
+
+"I don't want to shame her, Chrissy, dear; poor little Hatty! when she
+has been working so beautifully, too. She is worrying herself about my
+going away, and that makes her cross."
+
+"As though no one else would miss you," returned Christine stormily, for
+she was not quite devoid of jealousy. "But there, it is no use my
+talking; you will all treat Hatty as though she were a baby, and so she
+behaves like a spoiled child. I should like to give her a bit of my
+mind." And Christine tossed her pretty head and swept off the last
+dress, while Bessie cleared the table.
+
+Bessie's visit was fixed for the following Tuesday, so on Sunday evening
+she made up her mind that the time was come for speaking to Hatty. As it
+happened, they were keeping house together, for the rest of the family,
+the servants included, had gone to church. Hatty had just settled
+herself in a corner of the couch, with a book in her hand, expecting
+that Bessie would follow her example (for the Lambert girls were all
+fond of reading), when a hand was suddenly interposed between her eyes
+and the page.
+
+"This is our last quiet evening, Hatty, and I am going to talk instead
+of read, so you may as well shut up that big book."
+
+"It takes two to talk," observed Hatty, rather crossly, "and I am not in
+the mood for conversation, so you had better let me go on with 'Bishop
+Selwyn's Life.'"
+
+"You are not in the mood for reading either," persisted Bessie, and
+there was a gleam of fun in her eyes. "When you pucker up your forehead
+like that, I know your thoughts are not on your book. Let us have a
+comfortable talk instead. You have not been like yourself the last week,
+not a bit like my Hatty; so tell me all about it, dear, and see if I
+cannot make you feel better."
+
+"No, Bessie, don't try; it is not any use, unless I jump into somebody
+else's body and mind. I can't make myself different. I am just Hatty, a
+tiresome, disagreeable, selfish little thing."
+
+"What a lot of adjectives! I wonder they don't smother you. You are not
+big enough to carry so many. I think I could word that sentence better.
+I should just say, 'Hatty is a poor, weak little body to whom mole-hills
+are mountains, and the grasshopper a burden.' Does not that sound
+nicer?"
+
+"Yes, if it were true," returned Hatty sorrowfully, and then her
+ill-humor vanished. "No, don't pet me, Bessie; I don't deserve it," as
+Bessie stroked her hand in a petting sort of a way. "I have been cross
+and ill-tempered all the week, just unbearable, as Christine said; but
+oh, Bessie, it seemed as though I could not help it. I was so miserable
+every night to think you were going away, that I could not sleep for
+ever so long, and then my head ached, and I felt as though I were strung
+on wires when I came down the next morning, and every time people
+laughed and said pleasant things I felt just mad, and the only relief
+was to show every one how disagreeable I could be."
+
+Hatty's description of her overwrought feelings was so droll that Bessie
+with some difficulty refrained from laughing outright, but she knew how
+very real all this was to Hatty, so she exercised self-control, and
+said, quite gravely:
+
+"And so you wanted to make us all miserable, too. That was hardly kind,
+was it, when we were all so sorry for you? I do think you have a great
+deal to bear, Hatty. I don't mean because you are so weak in health;
+that could be easily borne; but it must be so sad always to look on the
+dark side of things. Of course, in some sense, we all project our own
+shadows; but you are not content with your own proper shadow, you go
+poking and peering about for imaginary ones, and so you are dark all
+round."
+
+"But your going away to Oatlands is not imaginary," returned Hatty
+piteously.
+
+"No, you foolish child. But I hope you do not grudge me a pleasant
+visit. That would be a great piece of substantial selfishness on your
+part, of which, I trust, my Hatty would not be capable. Supposing I gave
+in to this ridiculous fancy and said, 'Hattie hates me to go away, so I
+will just stop at home, and Miss Sefton shall be disappointed.' I wonder
+how you would like that?"
+
+"That would not please me, either. I am not so selfish as that. Oh,
+Bessie, do tell me how I am to conquer this nervous dread of losing you.
+It is not selfishness, for I do love to have treats; but when you go
+away I don't seem to take any pleasure in anything; it is all so flat
+and disagreeable. Sometimes I lie awake and cry when I think what I
+should do if you were to die. I know how silly and morbid it is, but how
+am I to help it?" And here Hatty broke down, and hid her face on
+Bessie's shoulder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+IN THE KENTISH LANES.
+
+
+Bessie did not make any answer for a minute or two, but her eyes were a
+little dim as she heard Hatty sob.
+
+"I must not break the bruised reed," she said to herself. "Hatty's world
+is a very little one; she is not strong enough to come out of herself,
+and take wider views; when she loves people, she loves them somehow in
+herself; she can't understand the freedom of an affection that can be
+happy in the absence of its object. I am not like Hatty; but then our
+natures are different, and I must not judge her. What can I say that
+will help her?"
+
+"Can't you find anything to say to me, Bessie dear?"
+
+"Plenty; but you must wait for it to come. I was just thinking for
+you--putting myself in your place, and trying to feel as you do."
+
+"Well!"
+
+"I was getting very low down when you spoke; it was quite creepy among
+the shadows. 'So this is how Hatty feels,' I said to myself, and did not
+like it at all."
+
+"You would not like to be me, Bessie."
+
+"What an ungrammatical sentence! Poor little me! I should think not; I
+could not breathe freely in such a confined atmosphere. Why don't you
+give it up and let yourself alone? I would not be only a bundle of fears
+and feelings if I were you."
+
+"Oh, it is easy to talk, but it is not quite so easy to be good."
+
+"I am not asking you to be good. We can't make ourselves good, Hatty;
+that lies in different hands. But why don't you look on your unhappy
+nature as your appointed cross, and just bear with yourself as much as
+you expect others to bear with you? Why not exercise the same patience
+as you expect to be shown to you?"
+
+"I hardly understand you, Bessie. I ought to hate myself for my
+ill-temper and selfishness, ought I not?"
+
+"It seems to me that there are two sorts of hatred, and only one of them
+is right. We all have two natures. Even an apostle could say, 'Oh,
+wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this
+death?' Even St. Paul felt the two natures warring within him. How can
+you and I, then, expect to be exempt from this conflict?"
+
+"Don't put yourself in the same category with me, Bessie. You have
+crushed your lower nature, if you ever had it."
+
+"Oh, hush!" replied her sister, quite shocked at this. "You can't know
+what you are talking about." And here her voice trembled a little, for
+no one was more conscious of her faults and shortcomings. Bessie could
+remember the time when the conflict had been very hard; when her
+standard of duty had been lower than that she held now; when she had
+been as careless and indifferent as many girls of her age, until Divine
+guidance had led her feet into better paths; and knowing this, in her
+humility she could be tolerant of others.
+
+"You do not know what you are saying, Hatty, or you would not hurt me by
+such a speech; it is only your love for me that blinds you. What I want
+to tell you is this--that you must not be so impatient; you waste all
+your strength in saying hard things about yourself, instead of fighting
+your faults. Why don't you say to yourself, 'I am a poor, weak little
+creature, but my Creator knows that too, and he bears with me. I cannot
+rid myself of my tiresome nature; it sticks to me like a Nessus
+shirt'--you know the old mythological story, Hatty--'but it is my cross,
+a horrid spiky one, so I will carry it as patiently as I can. If it is
+not always light, I will grope my way through the shadows; but my one
+prayer and my one effort shall be to prevent other people suffering
+through me?'"
+
+"Oh, Bessie, that is beautiful!"
+
+"You will find nothing else will help you to fight your bogies; do try
+it, darling. Be merciful to your poor little self; 'respect the possible
+angel in you,' as Mr. Robertson said. You will get rid of all your
+faults and fancies one day, as your namesake did in the river. You won't
+always be poor little Hatty, whose back aches, and who is so cross;
+there is no pain nor crossness in the lovely land where all things are
+new."
+
+"Oh, if we were only there now, Bessie, you and I, safe and happy!"
+
+"I would rather wait till my time comes. I am young and strong enough to
+find life beautiful. Don't be cowardly, Hatty; you want to drop behind
+in the march, before many a gray-haired old veteran. That is because you
+are weak and tired, and you fear the long journey; but you forget," and
+here Bessie dropped her voice reverently, "that we don't journey alone,
+any more than the children of Israel did in the wilderness. We also have
+our pillar of cloud to lead us by day, and our pillar of fire by night
+to give us light. Mother always said what a type of the Christian
+pilgrimage the story of the Israelites is; she made us go through it all
+with her, and I remember all she told me. Hark! I think I hear
+footsteps outside the window; the servants are coming in from church."
+
+"Wait a minute, Bessie, before you let them in. You have done me so much
+good; you always do. I will try not to mope and vex mother and Christine
+while you are away." And Hatty threw her arms penitently round her
+sister's neck.
+
+Bessie returned her kisses warmly, and left the room with a light heart.
+Her Sunday evening had not been wasted if she had given the cup of cold
+water in the form of tender sympathy to one of Christ's suffering little
+ones.
+
+Bessie felt her words were not thrown away when she saw Hatty's brave
+efforts to be cheerful the next day, and how she refrained from sharp
+speeches to Christine; she did not even give way when Bessie bade her
+good-bye.
+
+"You will remember our Sunday talk, Hatty, dear."
+
+"I do remember it," with a quivering lip, "and I am trying to march,
+Bessie."
+
+"All right, darling, and I shall soon be back, and we can keep step
+again. I will write you long letters, and bring you back some ferns and
+primrose roots," and then Bessie waved her hand to them all, and jumped
+in the brougham, for her father was going to take her to the station.
+
+It must be confessed that Bessie felt a trifle dull when the train
+moved off, and she left her father standing on the platform. With the
+exception of short visits to her relatives, that were looked on in the
+light of duties, she had never left home before. But this feeling soon
+wore off, and a pleasant sense of exhilaration, not unmixed with
+excitement followed, as the wide tracts of country opened before her
+delighted eyes, green meadows and hedgerows steeped in the pure
+sunlight. Bessie was to be met at the station by some friend of the
+Seftons, as the country-bred girl knew little about London, and though a
+short cab drive would deposit her at Charing Cross, it would be far
+pleasanter for her to have an escort. Mrs. Sefton had suggested Mrs.
+Sinclair, and Dr. Lambert had been much relieved by her thoughtfulness.
+
+As the train drew up to the platform Bessie jumped out, and stood
+eagerly looking about her for the lady whom she expected to see, and she
+was much surprised when a gentlemanly looking man approached her, and
+lifting his hat, said, with a pleasant smile:
+
+"I believe I am addressing Miss Lambert."
+
+"Yes, certainly; that is my name," returned Bessie, in rather an
+embarrassed manner.
+
+"Ah, that is all right, and I have made no mistake. Miss Lambert, my
+mother is so seriously indisposed that she was unable to meet you
+herself, but you must allow me to offer my services instead. Now I will
+look after your luggage, and then I will find you a cab. Will you come
+with me, please? The luggage is at the other end."
+
+"I am so sorry to trouble you," returned Bessie. "I have only one box--a
+black one, with 'E. L.' on the cover." And then she stood aside quietly,
+while Mr. Sinclair procured a porter and identified the box; and
+presently she found herself in a cab, with her escort seated opposite to
+her, questioning her politely about her journey, and pointing out
+different objects of interest on their way.
+
+Bessie's brief embarrassment had soon worn off; and she chatted to her
+new companion in her usual cheerful manner. She liked Mr. Sinclair's
+appearance--he looked clever, and his manners were quiet and well bred.
+He did not seem young; Edna had told her that he was thirty but he
+looked quite five years older.
+
+"I wonder how you recognized me so quickly?" Bessie observed presently.
+
+"It was not very difficult to identify you," he returned quietly. "I saw
+a young lady who seemed rather strange to her surroundings, and who was
+evidently, by her attitude, expecting some one. I could tell at once you
+were not a Londoner."
+
+"I am afraid I must have looked very countrified," returned Bessie, in
+an amused tone.
+
+"Pardon me, I meant no such invidious comparison. People from the
+country have an air of greater freshness about them, that is all. You
+live at Cliffe, do you not? I was never there, but it is rather an
+interesting place, is it not?"
+
+"I think it a dear place," returned Bessie enthusiastically; "but then
+it is my home, so I am not unprejudiced. It is very unlike other places.
+The streets are so steep, and some of the houses are built in such high,
+out-of-the-way nooks, you look up and see steps winding up the hill, and
+there is a big house perched up among the trees, and then another. You
+wonder how people care to climb up so many steps; but then, there is the
+view. I went over one of the houses one day, and from every window there
+was a perfect panorama. You could see miles away. Think what the sunsets
+must be from those windows!"
+
+"You live lower down the hill, then?" with an air of polite interest.
+
+"Yes, in such a quiet, secluded corner; but we are near the quarry
+woods, and there are such lovely walks. And then the bay; it is not the
+real open sea you know, but it is so pretty; and we sit on the rocks
+sometimes to watch the sunset. Oh, I should not like to live anywhere
+else!"
+
+"Not in London, for example?"
+
+"Oh, no, not for worlds! It is very amusing to watch the people, but one
+seems to have no room to breathe freely."
+
+"We are pretty crowded, certainly," returned Mr. Sinclair; "but some of
+us would not care to live anywhere else, and I confess I am one of those
+people. The country is all very well for a month or two, but to a
+Londoner it is a sort of stagnation. Men like myself prefer to be at the
+heart of things--to live close to the centre of activity. London is the
+nucleus of England; not only the seat of government, but the focus of
+intellect, of art, of culture, of all that makes life worth living; and
+please do not put me down as a cockney, Miss Lambert, if I confess that
+I love these crowded streets. I am a lawyer, you know, and human nature
+is my study."
+
+"I quite understand you," returned Bessie, with the bright intelligence
+that was natural to her. She was beginning to think Edna a fortunate
+girl. "There must be more in her than I thought, or this clever man
+would not have chosen her," she said to herself; for Bessie, in her
+girlish innocence, knew little of the law of opposites, or how an
+intellectual or scientific man will sometimes select for his life
+companion a woman of only ordinary intelligence, who will, nevertheless,
+adorn her husband's home by her simple domestic virtues. A wife does not
+need to be a moral whetstone to sharpen her husband's wits by the
+fireside, neither would it enhance his happiness to find her filling
+reams of foolscap paper with choice specimens of prose and poetry;
+intelligent sympathy with his work is all he demands, and a loving,
+restful companion, who will soothe his hours of depression, who is never
+too weary or self-absorbed to listen to the story of his successes or
+failures.
+
+"I shall be down at The Grange in a week or two--that is, if my mother
+be better; and then I hope we shall renew our acquaintance," were Mr.
+Sinclair's parting words as he took leave of Bessie; and Bessie
+sincerely echoed this wish.
+
+"He is the sort of a man father would like," she thought, as the train
+moved slowly out of the station.
+
+This was paying a great compliment to Mr. Sinclair, for Dr. Lambert was
+rather severe on the young men of the day. "I don't know what has come
+to them," he would remark irritably; "young men nowadays call their
+father 'governor,' and speak to him as though he were their equal in
+age. There is no respect shown to elders. A brainless young puppy will
+contradict a man twice his age, and there is not even the same courtesy
+shown to the weaker sex either. I have heard young men and young
+women--young ladies, I suppose I ought to say--who address each other in
+a 'hail-fellow-well-met' sort of manner, but what can you expect," in a
+disgusted tone, "when the girls talk slang, and ape their young
+brothers? I think the 'sweet madame' of our great-grandmothers' times
+preferable to these slipshod manners. I would rather see our girls live
+and die in single blessedness than marry one of those fellows."
+
+"Father, we don't want to marry any one, unless he is as nice as you,"
+replied Christine, on overhearing this tirade, and Bessie had indorsed
+this speech.
+
+It was rather late in the afternoon when Bessie reached her destination,
+and she was feeling somewhat weary and dusty as she stood on the
+platform beside her box. The little station was empty, but as Bessie was
+waiting to question the porter, a man-servant came up to her and touched
+his hat.
+
+"Miss Sefton is outside with the pony-carriage," he said civilly. "I
+will look after the luggage, ma'am--there is a cart waiting for it."
+
+"Oh, thank you!" returned Bessie, and she went quickly through the
+little waiting-room. A young man in knickerbockers, with a couple of
+large sporting dogs, was talking to the station-master, and looked after
+her as she passed; but Bessie did not notice him particularly; her eyes
+were fixed on the road, and on a pony-carriage drawn up under the trees.
+Miss Sefton waved her whip when she saw Bessie, and drove quickly up to
+the door. She looked prettier than ever in her dark-blue cambric and
+large shady hat.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Lambert? I am delighted to see you again. How
+punctual you are. Jump in. Ford will look after your luggage. This is a
+very different meeting, is it not, from our last? No snow about, but a
+very hot sun for June. Where is your sunshade? You will want it. Yes,
+that is right; put it up--my hat shades me. Now then, Ford, are you
+ready? Go on, Jack. What are you about, Jill? Are not my ponies pretty,
+Miss Lambert? Richard gave them to me last birthday, but I am afraid I
+plagued him a good deal beforehand to provoke such unusual generosity.
+There is nothing like teasing when you want a thing."
+
+Bessie smiled, but remained silent; she was tired, and not quite
+inclined for repartee. They had turned into a long, lovely lane, so
+narrow that no vehicle could have passed them, and the thick hedgerows
+were full of pink and white briar roses and other wild flowers; on
+either side lay hop fields. Bessie uttered a delighted exclamation.
+
+"Yes, I told you you would admire our Kentish lanes. They are pretty
+now, but in the winter they are not quite so pleasant. Well, did Mrs.
+Sinclair meet you, as she promised?"
+
+"No, her son came instead; he said his mother was seriously indisposed,
+and unable to keep her engagement."
+
+"Neville met you. How extremely odd! How on earth did you discover each
+other? Were you very much embarrassed, Miss Lambert?"
+
+"No; it was a little strange at first, but Mr. Sinclair was very kind
+and pleasant, and soon put me at my ease."
+
+"Oh, Neville always gets on with ladies; there is certainly no fault to
+find with him in that respect. His civility is natural to him; he is
+just as polite to an old woman with a market basket and a few apples
+tied up in a blue spotted handkerchief as he is to a lady whose dress
+has been made by Worth."
+
+"I call that true politeness," returned Bessie warmly.
+
+"There is not much of the precious commodity to be found in our days;
+the young men one meets in society are not cut after that pattern. And
+so Mrs. Sinclair is ailing again?"
+
+"'Seriously indisposed,' was Mr. Sinclair's expression; and he looked
+rather grave, I thought."
+
+"My dear creature, Neville always looks grave, as though he were engaged
+in a criminal investigation. He is a barrister, you see, and he troubles
+himself if his mother's finger aches. The dear old lady is always
+ailing, more or less, but there is never much the matter--a creaking
+door; you know the sort; only Neville always makes the worst of it. Now,
+look here, Miss Lambert, that is what we call the village--just those
+few cottages and the inn; there is not even a church; we have to walk
+over to Melton, a mile and a half away. Isn't that pond pretty, with the
+ducks on it? and there is a flock of geese. Now we have only to turn
+down this road and there is The Grange." And as Miss Sefton pointed with
+her whip, Bessie saw the outlines of a large red house between the
+trees.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+AT THE GRANGE.
+
+
+As Miss Sefton spoke the lane widened before them, and the hedgerows
+gave place to a short avenue of elms, the sunlight filtering through the
+thick interlaced branches, and throwing quivering shadows on the white
+road below; a low white gate opened into a meadow where some cattle were
+grazing, and on the right hand side was a large, straggling red house,
+with picturesque stables half smothered in ivy. The hall door stood open
+and a fine Scotch deerhound lay basking in the afternoon sun; he roused
+himself lazily as the pony carriage stopped before the door, and as
+Bessie alighted he came up to her wagging his tail slowly, and put his
+long, slender nose into her hand.
+
+"What a beautiful creature!" exclaimed Bessie, who was exceedingly fond
+of all dumb animals. "Look how friendly he is, as though he were
+welcoming me to The Grange."
+
+Miss Sefton, who was patting the sleek sides of Jack and Jill, looked
+round carelessly.
+
+"Mac is a good old dog, but he is not always so amiable to strangers; he
+has his likes and dislikes, as we humans have, only I must tell Richard
+that he has taken to you--he is his property. Now let us go and find
+mamma." And Edna locked her arm in Bessie's, and, followed closely by
+the deerhound, led her into the house.
+
+There was no servant in attendance; a strange hush and stillness seemed
+to pervade the place. Bessie almost felt oppressed by it. The hall was
+large and dark, with a smooth, slippery floor, and was panelled in dark
+oak; oak settles and large carved antique cabinets were ranged round the
+walls. The great fireplace was filled with green boughs, and a tiger
+skin, with a huge grinning head and eyes, lay before it. The quiet
+little country girl had never seen such a hall in her life.
+
+"Take care; our oak floors are slippery to people who are unused to
+them," observed Edna. "Mamma is in the drawing-room, I suppose." And she
+opened the door and ushered her companion into a handsome room, with
+three windows opening on to a lawn. A lady, who was sitting on a couch
+reading, rose as she perceived the two girls, and crossed the room with
+a slow, stately step.
+
+"Mamma, I have brought Miss Lambert."
+
+"I am very glad to see her, Edna. My dear," taking Bessie's hand, and
+kissing her cheek, "you are very welcome for your father's sake."
+
+"Thank you," returned Bessie, with unusual shyness, for Mrs. Sefton's
+stateliness rather awed her. Both her words and her manner were kind;
+nevertheless, Bessie found it difficult to respond; even when Mrs.
+Sefton had established her in the corner of the couch, and was
+questioning her with polite interest about her journey, she found
+herself answering in almost monosyllabic replies, as though she were
+tongue-tied.
+
+"I cannot tell what came over me," she wrote the next day to her mother;
+"I never felt so bashful and stupid in my life; and yet Mrs. Sefton was
+most kind and considerate, only her graciousness seemed to crush me. She
+is very handsome, far handsomer than her daughter, slightly stout, but
+such a grand looking figure; Miss Sefton and I look like pygmies beside
+her; but there is one thing that strikes me about her--a sort of
+hardness when she is not speaking. I never saw a mouth closed so
+tightly; and then there is no rest in her face. I could not help
+thinking about father's story as I looked at her; it is not the face of
+a happy woman. I can imagine that disappointment in her husband has
+hardened her. I admire her very much; she fascinates and yet repels me,
+but I do not think I could love her very much. Miss Sefton does, but
+then her mother dotes on her."
+
+Bessie was devoutly wishing herself at home during that first quarter of
+an hour, but after a few minutes Mrs. Sefton's questions ceased, and she
+touched a silver-mounted gong beside her, and almost as though by magic
+the door was thrown noiselessly back, and the butler entered with the
+tea-tray, followed by a footman in smart livery. Bessie wondered what
+her mother would have thought of the delicate Worcester china that was
+placed on a low table beside Mrs. Sefton, while a second table was
+quickly covered with bread and butter and dainty-looking cakes. Edna had
+thrown off her hat, and had coaxed Bessie to do the same; then she
+proceeded to wait on her guest. A little table was placed at Bessie's
+elbow, and all manner of sweet cakes forced on her. The very tea had a
+different flavor from her mother's tea; it was scented, fragrant, and
+mellow with rich country cream. Bessie sipped her tea, and crumbled her
+rich cake, and felt as though she were in a dream. Outside the
+smooth-shaven lawn stretched before the windows, there was a tennis-net
+up, and some balls and rackets were lying on the grass. Some comfortable
+wicker chairs were placed under a large elm at the bottom of the lawn.
+
+"Do you play tennis?" asked Edna abruptly, as she noticed Bessie's eyes
+were wandering to the garden.
+
+"A little; I am fond of the game, but I have not played a great deal;
+it takes time, and there is so much to do."
+
+"Edna plays beautifully," observed Mrs. Sefton. "It is a fine exercise
+for young people, if they are moderate and do not over-exert themselves.
+We have some neighbors, the Athertons, who come in nearly every day to
+practice with Edna."
+
+"Does not your brother play with you sometimes?" asked Bessie.
+
+"Richard? Oh, no?" And Edna's lip curled a little disdainfully. "He is
+far too busy to waste his time on me--he prefers playing cricket with
+the village lads at Melton. Bye the bye, mamma, I left Richard at the
+station; he said he had business with Malcolmson, and would not be home
+much before dinner."
+
+"Indeed, I am sorry to hear it," returned Mrs. Sefton coldly. "Of course
+it was no use my warning him against any dealings with Malcolmson;
+Richard will go his own way; but I confess that this infatuation for
+Malcolmson vexes me much;" and a slight frown crossed Mrs. Sefton's
+white forehead.
+
+"Was the young man with two splendid dogs that I passed in the
+waiting-room your brother?" asked Bessie, in some surprise.
+
+"Yes, that was Richard," returned Edna; and she added, a little
+maliciously, "I can see you are a little surprised. I suppose you took
+him for a young farmer or gamekeeper. Richard is terribly clownish in
+appearance."
+
+Bessie thought this speech was in very bad taste, but she replied
+quietly:
+
+"I cannot say I noticed your brother, but one of the dogs attracted my
+attention, he had such a fine head; I should think Landseer would have
+enjoyed painting him."
+
+"Oh, that must have been Gelert; every one admires him; I know Neville
+coveted him. Now we have finished tea, and I dare say you will be glad
+to get rid of the dust of your journey, so I will undertake to show you
+your room. Mamma was going to put you into the big spare room, but I
+insisted that you would prefer a smaller one. Was I right, Miss
+Lambert?"
+
+"Perfectly right, thank you," returned Bessie, as she rose with
+alacrity.
+
+Mrs. Sefton's eyes followed her curiously as she crossed the room.
+
+"A healthy, fresh-colored country girl," she said to herself; "quite a
+little rustic; but she seems a nice, harmless little thing; though why
+Edna took such a fancy to her rather puzzles me. I thought she would
+take after her father, but I can see no likeness. What a handsome fellow
+he was--poor Herbert!--and so gentlemanly." And here Mrs. Sefton sighed;
+for to her it was always a perilous thing to recall the past. No woman
+had ever been so foolish as she; she had cast away gold for dross.
+
+While her hostess was indulging in these heavy reflections, Bessie was
+uttering little staccato exclamations of delight at the sight of the
+room allotted her.
+
+"What a lovely view!" she had observed, running to the window, for not
+only was the pretty shady garden to be seen, but some meadows, and a
+glimpse of a fir wood in the distance; and it all looked so cool and
+still, and the only objects of moving life were some white lambs feeding
+by their mothers, and a pretty brown foal with its dam.
+
+"Do you think you will like your room?" asked Edna demurely; but there
+was a gleam of fun in her eyes as she put the question, for she had a
+vivid remembrance of Bessie's room at home; the strips of faded carpet,
+the little iron bedstead, and painted drawers; and yet it had been a
+haven of rest to her that night, and she had slept very sweetly on the
+little hard bed.
+
+"It is far too grand for me," returned Bessie candidly. "I shall feel
+like a fine lady for the first time in my life." And she looked round
+her with admiring scrutiny, noting every detail--the wax candles and
+hot-house flowers on the toilet-table, the handsome wardrobe and
+cheval-glass, the writing-table with its dainty appendages, and the
+cosy-looking couch; even the brass bedstead, with its blue cretonne
+hangings, and frilled pillow-cases, demanded some fresh comment.
+
+"I think it is a lovely room, and far too good for me," finished Bessie.
+
+"All our rooms are very comfortable," was the careless response; "but
+one is too used to this sort of thing to notice it. Now shall I send
+Brandon to help you? She is our maid, and understands hair-dressing
+perfectly. She will help you unpack and arrange your things."
+
+"Oh, no, thank you!" returned Bessie, in such an alarmed voice that Miss
+Sefton laughed; and then she continued, in rather a shamefaced manner:
+"You see I am not like you, Miss Sefton. I have not been used to
+luxuries and being waited on; we are plain people, and wait on
+ourselves."
+
+"Just as you like," was the indifferent answer. "Brandon is the comfort
+of my life, though she is such a cross old thing. Now, Bessie--I am
+going to call you Bessie, and I beg you to lay aside the stiff Miss
+Sefton--you must tell me if I can lend you anything, or help you in any
+way. And you are not to trouble about making yourself smart, for we have
+no one coming to dinner to-day, and I shall only put on an old dress. We
+are in the country now, and I don't mean to waste my fine London gowns
+on Richard, who calls every material dimity, and never knows whether one
+is dressed in velvet or sackcloth."
+
+Bessie smiled, and then asked if she might use any of the flowers on her
+toilet-table.
+
+"My dear child, just look behind you," was the amused answer; and Bessie
+saw a breast-knot of lovely crimson roses on the writing-table. "Those
+are for your use to-night, but if you will let me know every morning
+what color you want for the evening, I will tell Brandon."
+
+As Bessie was unpacking, she heard a faint scratching at her door, and
+on opening it found, to her great surprise, Mac, the deerhound, sitting
+on his haunches, with a very pleading look in his beautiful brown eyes.
+
+"You may come in if you like, old fellow," she said, wondering at
+his sudden friendship for a stranger; and, sure enough, the hound walked
+in and stretched himself under the writing-table, with his nose between
+his paws, quietly observant of every movement.
+
+When Bessie had finished her unpacking, she proceeded to brush out her
+bright, brown hair, and arrange it in her usual simple fashion. Then she
+put on the dress of cream-colored nun's veiling, which was cut square
+and trimmed with her mother's lace; and when she had clasped the pearls
+round her neck, and had pinned on her roses, she felt she had never been
+so well dressed in her life; and, indeed, the girl's freshness and
+sweet expression made her very pleasant to look upon.
+
+Bessie was sitting at the window thinking of Hatty when Edna entered,
+looking like a young princess to her dazzled eyes. The old gown proved
+to be a delicate blue silk, and was trimmed in a costly fashion, and she
+wore at her throat a locket with a diamond star. As she came sweeping
+into the room, with her long train and fair coronet of hair, she looked
+so graceful and so handsome that Bessie uttered an admiring exclamation.
+
+"Oh, don't look at me!" observed Edna rather pettishly. "I have told
+Brandon I really must discard this gown; it is getting too bad even for
+quiet evenings."
+
+"I think it lovely," returned Bessie, much surprised at this remark. "I
+thought it was quite new."
+
+"Oh, no; it is nearly a year old, quite a patriarch in gowns; and,
+besides, I am getting so tired of blue. Mamma likes me best in white,
+and I agree with her; but you look very nice, Bessie, more like a
+crimson-tipped Daisy than ever. You remind me so of a daisy--a humble
+little modest, bright-eyed thing."
+
+"Thank you, Miss Sefton," returned Bessie, blushing at such an
+unexpected compliment. "I think I must tell Hatty that."
+
+"Hatty! Oh, you mean the little pale-faced sister with the clever
+eyes. Now, what did I say to you? That I preferred Edna to Miss Sefton.
+Oh, there goes the second gong, and Richard has only just come in. Mamma
+will be so vexed at his unpunctuality. Why, I declare if Mac has not
+taken up his quarters under your table. I suppose he approves of Miss
+Daisy as much as I do."
+
+Edna chatted after this fashion as she tripped down the oak staircase,
+while Bessie followed her more slowly. They found Mrs. Sefton in a
+somewhat ruffled mood. She looked handsomer than ever in her gray silk
+dress; her hands were blazing with diamond rings, her dark hair was
+still unmixed with gray, and hardly needed the lace cap that covered it.
+
+"Richard has only just come in, mamma; need we wait for him?"
+
+"It is our duty to wait for the master of the house, Edna, however much
+we are inconvenienced by the delay." And Mrs. Sefton fanned herself with
+a dissatisfied expression. "Your brother never thinks of our comfort, as
+long as he is engrossed with his own occupations. I must apologize to
+you, Miss Lambert, for our unpunctuality. I am sure, after such a
+journey, you must need your dinner."
+
+"I am not at all hungry, thank you," replied Bessie, whose appetite was
+not stimulated by her hostess' aggrieved remarks. She sat literally on
+thorns during the next five minutes, while Mrs. Sefton fanned herself,
+and Edna walked up and down the room, humming snatches of songs, and
+then breaking off into a sarcastic observation on the length of
+Richard's toilet.
+
+"I shall expect great results," she was just saying, as the door opened,
+and a tall, broad-shouldered young man advanced rather awkwardly into
+the room.
+
+"I am afraid I am late again, mother," he began apologetically; but Mrs.
+Sefton apparently took no notice of this remark, except by a slight
+shrug of her shoulders.
+
+"We have been waiting half an hour," broke in Edna, with a pout. "You
+get worse and worse, Richard. Now, will you take in my friend, Miss
+Lambert? and mamma and I will follow."
+
+Bessie rose at once, as Mr. Sefton offered his arm, but beyond a stiff
+bow he took no further notice of her. His face wore a moody expression
+as they seated themselves at the table. His reception had evidently
+damped him.
+
+Bessie glanced at him. Richard Sefton was certainly not handsome; his
+features were rather heavily molded; he had a reddish mustache that hid
+his mouth, and closely cropped hair of the same color. His evening dress
+set rather awkwardly on him, and he had looked far better in his tweed
+coat and knickerbockers. Bessie was obliged to confess that Edna had
+been right in her description; there was something clownish about his
+appearance, and yet he looked a gentleman.
+
+"Have you nothing to tell us, Richard?" asked Mrs. Sefton sharply, when
+the silence had lasted long enough.
+
+"Nothing that will interest you," he replied, rather gloomily; and
+Bessie noticed that his voice was not unpleasant. "I have been with
+Malcolmson all the afternoon." And he looked steadily at Mrs. Sefton as
+he spoke.
+
+A slight flush crossed her face, but she evidently did not trust herself
+to answer.
+
+"I know our opinions differ about him," he continued, as though forcing
+himself to speak; "but for my part I think him a clear-headed,
+reliable fellow. He has done my business well, and has relieved me of a
+great deal of responsibility."
+
+"I hope you will not have cause to repent your rashness, Richard," was
+the severe answer; but Edna, who was watching her mother's countenance
+with some anxiety, interfered in an airy fashion:
+
+"Oh, pray don't begin to talk business, Richard, or you will make
+mamma's head ache. You know she can't bear to hear Malcolmson's name
+mentioned. All this is not very amusing for Miss Lambert. Can't you
+find something interesting to suit a young lady?"
+
+But if Edna hoped to pose as a peacemaker, she failed signally, for a
+sullen look came to her brother's face, and, with the exception of a
+slight attention to his guest's wants, and a few remarks about her
+journey and the weather, Richard made no further attempt to be
+agreeable.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+RICHARD SEFTON.
+
+
+"Richard is a perfect bear!" exclaimed Edna angrily, as she threw
+herself into one of the wicker seats on the lawn. It was a lovely
+evening; the sun was just setting, and she had invited Bessie to take a
+stroll round the garden.
+
+"The dews are very heavy," remonstrated her friend. "I think we had
+better keep to the gravel paths." And then Edna had got up from her
+seat, grumbling as she did so, and had again reiterated her opinion that
+Richard was a bear.
+
+"I think something must have put him out," returned Bessie, who was
+always prompt in defence of the absent. "He did not look quite happy."
+
+"That was because mamma was so vexed about his unpunctuality, and about
+Malcolmson. Richard hates to vex her, and when she looks at him like
+that he always becomes gloomy and morose. I have known him silent for
+days, when they have fallen out about something. I am taking you behind
+the scenes, Bessie, but all our friends know that mamma and Richard do
+not agree. You see, mamma is very clever, and she likes managing, and
+Richard has a will of his own; he is very tenacious of his own opinions,
+and when he has got an idea into his head he can be as stubborn as a
+mule."
+
+"Don't you think a man has a right to his own opinion, Edna?"
+
+Edna pursed up her lips.
+
+"A man like Neville, perhaps, who is clever and knows the world; but
+Richard is a perfect child in some things. He ought to be reasonable,
+and allow mamma to have her way. Now, she dislikes Malcolmson--she does
+not believe in him; and Richard, as you hear, swears by him."
+
+"Who is Mr. Malcolmson, if I may venture to ask?"
+
+"Oh, he is an ugly, scrubby little Scotchman whom Richard means to take
+as a sort of bailiff, or overseer, or something; I don't understand
+what."
+
+"Your brother farms himself, does he not?"
+
+"Yes, he has a large farm; and then there is the brewery, a few miles
+off, and he wants Malcolmson for that. Mamma is disgusted, because she
+wanted Richard to take a _protege_ of her own--such an interesting young
+fellow, and so poor, with a widowed mother and two or three young
+sisters; and my lord won't look at him."
+
+"Perhaps he has his reasons for declining him."
+
+"No, it is just his obstinacy; he will not allow mamma to interfere in
+his business. He thinks she ought to keep to her own department, and
+leave him to manage his own concerns; but mamma can't see it; she has
+been used to rule, and she is always offended when he refuses to take
+her advice."
+
+"What a pity!" observed Bessie. "I think people in one house ought to be
+of one mind."
+
+"My dear Daisy, your golden rule won't hold at The Grange. No one thinks
+alike in this house; mamma and I dote on each other, but we do not
+always agree; she makes me cry my eyes out sometimes. And as for
+Neville, as I told you, we have not an idea in common. I think perfect
+agreement must be rather monotonous and deadening. I am sure if Neville
+were to say to me, 'My dear Edna, you are always right, and I agree with
+you in everything,' I should be ready to box his ears. It is much more
+amusing to quarrel half a dozen times a day, and make it up again. Oh, I
+do dearly love to provoke Neville; he looks so deliciously bored and
+grave."
+
+Bessie was at a loss how to answer this extraordinary statement, but
+Edna gave her no time to collect her ideas.
+
+"Quarrelling with Richard is poor fun," she went on; "he hasn't the wit
+to retaliate, but just sits glum as you saw him to-night. I mean to
+tell Master Richard, though, that his manners were worse than usual, for
+he actually did not open his lips to his guest, although she was a
+stranger."
+
+"Indeed you are wrong," returned Bessie eagerly. "You are doing your
+brother an injustice; he spoke to me several times, and made remarks
+about the weather and my journey. I was just describing Cliffe to him
+when your mother gave us the signal to rise."
+
+"What a brilliant conversation!" observed Edna sarcastically. "Well, I
+will prove to you that Richard is in his sulks, for he won't enter the
+drawing-room again to-night; and if he did," she added, laughing, "mamma
+would not speak to him, so it is just as well for him to absent himself.
+Now let us go in, and I will sing to you. When people are not here mamma
+always reads, and I sing to her."
+
+Edna sung charmingly, and Bessie much enjoyed listening to her; and when
+she was tired Mrs. Sefton beckoned Bessie to her couch, and talked to
+her for a long time about her family.
+
+"All this interests me; I like to hear your simple descriptions, my
+child," she said, when Edna interrupted them by reminding her mother of
+the lateness of the hour. "Now you must go to bed." And she dismissed
+her with another kiss and a kindly good-night.
+
+As the two girls went out into the hall they found Richard Sefton
+hanging up his cap on the peg. He wore a light overcoat over his evening
+dress, and had evidently spent his evening out.
+
+"Good-night, Richard," observed Edna, with a careless nod, as she passed
+him; but Bessie held out her hand with a smile.
+
+"Good-night, Mr. Sefton. What a beautiful evening it has been!"
+
+"Yes, and so warm," he returned cheerfully, as though the girl's smile
+had loosened his tongue; "it is glorious haymaking weather. I expect we
+shall have a fine crop in the lower meadow."
+
+"Are you haymaking?" exclaimed Bessie, with almost childish delight.
+"Oh, I hope your sister will take me into the hayfield."
+
+"I will promise anything, if only you and Richard will not turn over the
+haycocks now," retorted Edna, with sleepy impatience. "Do come, Bessie."
+And Bessie followed her obediently.
+
+Richard Sefton looked after her as her white dress disappeared up the
+dark staircase.
+
+"She seems a different sort from most of Edna's friends," he muttered,
+as he lighted his pipe and retired to the nondescript apartment that was
+called his study. "There does not seem much nonsense about her. What do
+you think about it, Mac?" as the hound laid his head on his knee. "I
+imagine, as a rule, women have a precious lot of it." And he whistled a
+bar from the "Miller of the Dee."
+
+    "I care for nobody, no, not I,
+     And nobody cares for me."
+
+"What a long evening it has been!" thought Bessie, as she leaned out of
+the window to enjoy the sweet June air, and to admire the lawn silvered
+by the moonlight.
+
+"It seems two days at least since I left Cliffe. Oh, I hope Hatty is
+asleep, and not fretting!"
+
+"I wonder if I shall be happy here," she went on. "It is all very
+nice--the house and the country beautiful, and Edna as delightful as
+possible; but there is something wanting--family union. It is so sad to
+hear Edna talking about her brother. He is a perfect stranger to me, and
+yet I took his part at once. How could the poor fellow talk and enjoy
+himself while Mrs. Sefton was sitting opposite to him looking like an
+offended tragedy queen? He had not the heart to talk; besides, he knew
+that in engaging that man he was going against her wishes, and so he
+could not feel comfortable. Edna was wrong in calling him a bear. He was
+not at his ease, certainly; but he anticipated all my wants, and spoke
+to me very nicely. But there, I must not mix myself up in family
+disagreements. I shall have to be civil and kind to every one; but it
+makes one thankful for one's peaceful home, and the dear mother and
+father," and the tears came into Bessie's eyes as she thought of her
+shielded and happy life, and the love of her sisters and Tom.
+
+"God bless them all, and make me worthy of them!" thought the girl, with
+a sudden rush of tenderness for the dear ones at home.
+
+Bessie was an early riser. Dr. Lambert had always inculcated this useful
+and healthy habit in his children. He would inveigh bitterly against the
+self-indulgence of the young people of the present day, and against the
+modern misuse of time. "Look at the pallid, sickly complexions of some
+of the girls you see," he would say. "Do they look fit to be the future
+mothers of Englishmen? Poor, feeble creatures, with no backbone to
+mention, leading unhealthy, frivolous existences. If my girls are not
+handsome, they shall at least be healthy; they shall learn self-control
+and self-guidance. Early hours will promote good appetites; plenty of
+exercise, fresh air and good digestion will sweeten their tempers and
+enliven their spirits; a clear conscience and a well-regulated mind will
+bring them happiness in whatever circumstances they are placed. I am not
+anxious for my girls to marry. I don't mean to play minor providence in
+their lives, as some fathers do; but I would fit them for either
+position, for the dignity of marriage or for the unselfish duties of the
+single woman."
+
+Dr. Lambert loved to moralize to his womankind; he had a way of standing
+before the fire and haranguing his family--anything would serve as a
+text for his discourse. Some of his daughters certainly thrived on his
+homely prescriptions, but Hatty was the thorn in her father's side, the
+object of his secret anxiety and most tender care--the sickly one of his
+domestic flock. Hatty would never do him credit, he would say sadly; no
+medical skill could put color into Hatty's pale cheeks, nor cure the
+aches and pains and nervous fancies that harassed her youth. As Dr.
+Lambert watched the languid step, or dissatisfied voice, he would sigh,
+as though some thought oppressed him; but with all his gentleness--and
+he was very gentle with Hatty--he never yielded, nor suffered any one
+else to yield, to her wayward caprices.
+
+"My dear," he would say, when Bessie pleaded for some little extra
+indulgence for Hatty, "you must not think me hard if I say distinctly
+'No' to your request. You may trust me; I know Hatty better than you do.
+Very little would make her a confirmed invalid. It is not in our power,
+not in the power of any man living," continued the doctor, with emotion,
+"to give that poor child health; but we may help her a great deal by
+teaching her self-control. Half her misery proceeds from her own nervous
+fancies. If we can help her to overcome them, we shall do more for Hatty
+than if we petted and waited on her." But Bessie had always found this
+wise prescription of the doctor's a very difficult one.
+
+Bessie always called the hour before breakfast her "golden hour," and by
+her father's advice she devoted it to some useful reading or study. In a
+busy house like the Lamberts', where every one put his or her shoulder
+to the wheel, it was not easy to secure opportunity for quiet reading or
+self-improvement. There was always work to be done; long walks to be
+taken; the constant interruption of the two school-girls; Ella's
+practicing to overlook; Katie's French verbs to hear; besides household
+tasks of all kinds. In the evenings the girls played and sung to please
+their father, who delighted in music; sometimes, but not often, their
+mother read aloud to them while they worked. It was against the family
+rules for one to retire into a corner with a book. In such a case the
+unfortunate student was hunted out, teased, pursued with questions,
+pelted with home witticisms, until she was glad to close her book and
+take up her needlework, for the Lamberts were brisk talkers, and their
+tongues were never silent until they were asleep, and then they talked
+in their dreams.
+
+When Bessie rose early, as usual, the morning after her arrival at The
+Grange, she sat down by the open window, and wrote a long letter to her
+mother and a little note to Hatty. It was an exquisite morning; the
+thrushes and blackbirds, the merle and the mavis of the old English
+poets, were singing as though their little throats would burst with the
+melody, and a pair of finches in the acacia were doing their best to
+swell the concert; the garden looked so sunny and quiet, and such a
+sweet breath of newly made hay came in at the open window that Bessie at
+last laid down her pen. The household was stirring, but the family would
+not be down for half an hour, so the maid had informed her when she
+brought Bessie the morning cup of tea. Bessie had looked rather
+longingly at the pretty teapot, but her father had been so strong in his
+denunciations against slow poison, as he called it, imbibed on waking,
+that she would not yield to the temptation of tasting it, and begged for
+a glass of milk instead. This the maid promised to bring every morning,
+and as Bessie ate the bread and butter and sipped the sweet country
+milk, yellow with cream, she thought how much good it would do Hatty.
+Then she put on her hat and went softly downstairs, and finding a side
+door open, went out into the garden.
+
+She thought she and the thrushes and blackbirds had it to themselves,
+but she was mistaken, for in turning into a shrubbery walk, skirting the
+meadow, she was surprised to see Richard Sefton sitting on a low bench,
+with Mac's head between his knees, evidently in a brown study. Bessie
+was sorry to disturb him, but it was too late to draw back, for Mac had
+already seen her, and had roused his master by his uneasy efforts to get
+free, and Mr. Sefton rose, with the awkward abruptness that seemed
+natural to him, and lifted his cap.
+
+"Good morning, Miss Lambert. You are an early riser. My mother and Edna
+are hardly awake yet."
+
+"Oh, I am always up long before this," returned Bessie, smiling at his
+evident astonishment, as she stooped to caress Mac, who was fawning on
+her.
+
+"Mac seems to know you," he observed, noticing the dog's friendly
+greeting.
+
+"It is very strange, but he seems to have taken a fancy to me," replied
+Bessie, and she narrated to Mac's master how the hound had pleaded for
+admission to her room, and had lain under her table watching her unpack.
+
+"That is very odd," observed Richard. "Mac has never bestowed a similar
+mark of attention on any one but a certain homely old lady that my
+mother had here for a time, as a sort of charity; she had been a
+governess, and was very poor. Well, Mac was devoted to the old lady, and
+she certainly was an estimable sort of woman, but he will have nothing
+to say to any of Edna's fine friends, and generally keeps out of the way
+when they come."
+
+"An animal's likes and dislikes are very singular," remarked Bessie,
+looking thoughtfully into Mac's brown eyes. "I believe Mac knows that I
+am a lover of dogs."
+
+"Are you indeed, Miss Lambert? Would you like to see mine?" returned
+Richard quickly; and his face lighted up as he spoke. He looked
+younger and better than he did the previous night. His powerful,
+muscular figure, more conspicuous for strength than grace, showed to
+advantage in his tweed shooting-coat and knickerbockers, his
+ordinary morning costume. The look of sullen discomfort had gone,
+and his face looked less heavy. Bessie thought he hardly seemed his
+age--nine-and-twenty--and, in spite of his natural awkwardness, he
+had a boyish frankness of manner that pleased her.
+
+Bessie was a shrewd little person in her way, and she already surmised
+that Richard Sefton was not at ease in his stepmother's presence. She
+found out afterward that this was the case; that in spite of his
+strength and manhood, he was morbidly sensitive of her opinion, and was
+never so conscious of his defects as when he was presiding at his own
+table, or playing the part of host in her drawing-room, under her
+critical eye. And yet Richard Sefton loved his stepmother; he had an
+affectionate nature, but in his heart he knew he had no cause to be
+grateful to her. She had made him, the lonely, motherless boy, the
+scapegoat of his father's deceit and wrongdoing. He had been allowed to
+live at The Grange on sufferance, barely tolerated by the proud girl who
+had been ignorant of his existence. If he had been an engaging child,
+with winning ways, she would soon have become interested in him, but
+even then Richard had been plain and awkward, with a shy, reserved
+nature, and a hidden strength of affection that no one, not even his
+father, guessed. Mrs. Sefton had first disliked, and then neglected him,
+until her husband died, and the power had come into Richard's hands.
+Since then she had altered her behavior; her interests lay in
+conciliating her stepson. She began by recognizing him outwardly as
+master, and secretly trying to dominate and guide him. But she soon
+found her mistake. Richard was accessible to kindness, and Mrs. Sefton
+could have easily ruled him by love, but he was firm against a cold,
+aggressive policy. Secretly he shrunk from his stepmother's sarcastic
+speeches and severe looks; his heart was wounded by persistent coldness
+and misunderstanding, but he had sufficient manliness to prove himself
+master, and Mrs. Sefton could not forgive this independence. Richard
+took her hard speeches silently, but he brooded over them in a morbid
+manner that resembled sullenness. Yet he would have forgiven them
+generously in return for one kind look or word. His stepmother had
+fascinated and subjugated him in his boyhood, and even in his manhood
+it gave him a pang to differ from her; but the truth that was in him,
+the real inward manhood, strengthened him for the daily conflicts of
+wills.
+
+Poor Richard Sefton! But after all he was less to be pitied than the
+woman who found it so difficult to forgive a past wrong, and who could
+wreak her displeasure on the innocent.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+BESSIE IS INTRODUCED TO BILL SYKES.
+
+
+"Would you care to see my dogs, Miss Lambert?" asked Richard, and Bessie
+only hesitated for a moment.
+
+"Very much. That is, if it will not trouble you."
+
+"Not in the least; they are only just outside in the stable yard. Leo,
+our big mastiff, who gained the prize last year, is over at the farm. He
+is a splendid fellow, but a trifle fierce to strangers. He pulled a man
+down once, a tramp who was lurking about the place. Leo had got loose
+somehow, and he was at his throat in a moment. The poor fellow has the
+scar now; but I made it up to him, poor wretch."
+
+"I should not care to go near Leo's kennel," returned Bessie, with a
+shudder.
+
+"Oh, it would be all right if I were with you. I should just put my hand
+on your arm and say, 'A friend, Leo,' and he would be as gentle as Mac,
+here. Leo is my faithful servant and guardian at the farm. I always
+take him out for a walk on Sunday afternoons. Leo knows Sunday as well
+as I do. Now, we must be quick, or the gong will sound. There is no need
+to go through the house; this door leads to the kitchen garden, and we
+can reach the stables that way." And talking in this easy, friendly
+fashion, Richard quickly conducted Bessie down the trim gravel walks,
+under the apple and plum trees, and then unlocking a green door in the
+wall, Bessie found herself in the stable yard, where the groom was
+rubbing down a fine brown mare. The mare neighed as soon as she heard
+her master's voice, and Richard went up to her and petted her glossy
+sides.
+
+"That is brown Bess," he observed. "She is a skittish young thing, and
+plays her pranks with every one but me; but you and I understand each
+other, eh, old lady?" And the mare rubbed her nose against him in a
+confiding manner. Bessie looked on with an earnest air of interest.
+
+"Do you ride?" asked Richard presently.
+
+Bessie shook her head.
+
+"I have never been on horseback in my life; but I can imagine what a
+pleasure riding must be."
+
+"What a pity!" he returned briefly. "There is nothing like it." And so
+saying, he unlatched a gate and ushered his guest into a small paved
+yard, and then, opening a door, he uttered a prolonged whistle, and
+yelps, and a number of dogs, small and large, rushed out upon him.
+
+"Hi, there, Gelert! down, Juno; down, down, good dogs all." And Richard
+threatened them with his dogwhip.
+
+"Is this Gelert?" asked Bessie, pointing to a fine black retriever.
+
+"Yes; and that is Brand," patting the head of a handsome pointer. "That
+brown setter is Juno; she is the mother of those three puppies--fine
+little fellows, aren't they? Look at this curly haired one; two of them
+are promised to friends; they are a capital breed. Do you care for
+terriers, Miss Lambert? because Spot is considered a perfect beauty.
+Look at his coat; it is like satin."
+
+"And that knowing little fellow, what is his name?" and Bessie pointed
+to a very small black and tan terrier, who sat up and begged at once.
+
+"Oh, that is Tim; he ought by rights to be a house-dog, but he has taken
+a fancy to Spot, and insists on sharing his straw bed at night; they
+both have the run of the house by day--at least, as far as the hall and
+smoking-room are concerned. My mother hates dogs, and will not tolerate
+one in the drawing-room."
+
+"Surely, that is not one of your dogs," exclaimed Bessie, looking with
+some disfavor on an ugly white mongrel, with a black patch over one eye;
+her attention was attracted by the creature's ugliness. Evidently he
+knew he was no beauty, for, after uttering a short yelp or two in the
+attempt to join in the chorus of sonorous barks, he had crept humbly
+behind Richard, and sat on his haunches, looking up at him with a
+pathetically meek expression.
+
+"Oh, you mean Bill Sykes; yes, he is a pensioner of mine. Come along,
+Bill, and say good morning to your master."
+
+It was impossible to describe the change that came over the dog as
+Richard spoke to him in this kindly fashion; his whole body quivered
+with pleasure as he sprung up and licked Richard's hands.
+
+"What do you think, Miss Lambert? I found Bill one day tearing through
+Melton with a tin kettle tied to his tail, hunted by a pack of rascally
+school-boys; one of the little wretches had thrown a stone at him, and
+poor Bill was bleeding. I managed to stop him, somehow, and to free the
+poor beast from his implement of torture, and left him licking his wound
+by the roadside, while I caught two of the boys and thrashed them
+soundly. I reserved thrashing the others until a convenient season, but
+they all caught it. I read them a pretty lesson on cruelty to animals.
+Bill followed me home, and I have never parted with him since. The other
+dogs disdained his company at first, but now they tolerate him, and, on
+the whole, I think he leads a pleasant life. He knows he is of humble
+extraction, and so he keeps in the background, but he is a clever dog;
+he can walk across the yard on his hind legs--the gardener's boy taught
+him the trick. Now, then, Bill, walk like a gentleman." And Bill
+obediently rose on his hind legs and stalked across the yard with an air
+of dignity, followed by a fat, rollicking puppy, barking with all his
+might.
+
+Bill had just received his meed of praise when the gong sounded, and
+they had to hurry in to breakfast. They found Edna in a bewitching white
+morning dress.
+
+"I hope I am not late," observed Bessie, apologetically. "Mr. Sefton
+took me to see the dogs. I did so enjoy looking at them; they are such
+beautiful creatures."
+
+"Yes, especially Bill Sykes," returned Edna sarcastically. "Well, there
+is no accounting for tastes," with a critical look at Bessie's neat blue
+cotton. "I never venture in the yard myself, unless I have an old ulster
+on. I could not put on my dress again if all those scratchy paws had
+been over it. Richard does not train them properly; they all spring up
+and nearly knock me down in their clumsy gambols."
+
+"They are like their master, eh, Edna?" returned Richard good-humoredly.
+"Mother, shall I give you some ham? What time do you mean to bring Miss
+Lambert to the lower meadow, Edna? We shall be carrying this evening."
+
+"Oh, you need not expect us at all," returned Edna, to Bessie's
+disappointment. "I quite forgot the Atherton's are coming this
+afternoon, to practice for to-morrow."
+
+"I thought Miss Lambert wanted to see us make hay," observed Richard,
+looking at Bessie as he spoke; but she replied hastily:
+
+"Not if your sister has other plans, Mr. Sefton, thank you all the same;
+I would rather do as she wishes."
+
+"Yes, and you are fond of lawn tennis, are you not? We have a garden
+party to-morrow, and you ought to practice, you see. I want you to know
+the Athertons; they are such nice girls, Florence especially; plenty of
+go in them, and no nonsense."
+
+"Yes, Florence is a sweet girl," assented her mother. "Mrs. Atherton is
+a sad invalid, and they are such devoted daughters. Edna, it is your day
+for writing to Neville, is it not? I want to send a message to Mrs.
+Sinclair; don't you think it would be a pretty attention if you were to
+write to her as well? She seems very poorly again."
+
+"I am not inclined to pay pretty attentions to any one this morning,"
+returned Edna, with a little laugh. "Bessie, can you amuse yourself
+while I do my duty to my _fiance_? There are plenty of books in the
+morning-room, and a deliciously shady seat under that big tree."
+
+"Oh, that will be delightful," replied Bessie, to whom a book was a
+powerful attraction. She was some time making her selection from the
+well-filled bookcase, but at last fixed on some poems by Jean Ingelow,
+and "The Village on the Cliff," by Miss Thackeray. Bessie had read few
+novels in her life; Dr. Lambert disliked circulating libraries for young
+people, and the only novels in the house were Sir Walter Scott's and
+Miss Austin's, while the girls' private book shelves boasted most of
+Miss Yonge's, and two or three of Miss Mulock's works. Bessie had read
+"Elizabeth," by Miss Thackeray, at her Aunt Charlotte's house, and the
+charming style, the pure diction, the picturesque descriptions, and the
+beauty and pathos of the story made her long to read another by the same
+author. As Bessie retraced her steps through the hall Mac raised himself
+up slowly, and followed her out, and in another moment Spot and Tim flew
+through a side door and joined her.
+
+Bessie never passed a pleasanter morning; her tale enthralled her, but
+she laid down her book occasionally to notice her dumb companions. A
+white Persian kitten had joined the group; she was evidently accustomed
+to the dogs, for she let Tim roll her over in his rough play, and only
+boxed his ears in return, now and then. When he got too excited, she
+scrambled up a may-tree, and sat licking herself in placid triumph,
+while the terriers barked below. Bessie was almost sorry when the quiet
+was invaded by Edna. Edna, who never opened a book, by her own
+confession, unless it were an exciting novel, looked a little
+disdainfully at the book Bessie had chosen.
+
+"Oh, that old thing!" she said contemptuously; "that is not much of a
+story; it is about a Breton peasant, is it not? Reine, I think she was
+called. Oh, it was amusing enough, but I prefer something more
+thrilling."
+
+"I think it lovely," returned Bessie. "It is all so sweet and sunshiny;
+one can smell the flowers in that studio, and the two Catherines, one so
+happy and charming, and the other so pathetic. All the people are so
+nice and good, they seem alive somehow. In other books there are wicked
+people, and that troubles me."
+
+"You would not like the sort of books I read;" returned Edna, shrugging
+her shoulders. "There was a murder in the last; I could hardly sleep
+after it--some one thrown out of a train. Oh, it was deliciously
+horrible! I have not sent it back to Mudie; you can read it if you
+like."
+
+"No, thank you," returned Bessie quietly; "it would not suit me at all.
+Father is very particular about what we read, and mother, too; he will
+not let us touch what he calls 'the sensational literature of the
+day'--oh, you may laugh," as Edna looked amused; "but I think father is
+right. He says it makes him quite unhappy to see books of this
+description in the hands of mere children. He is a doctor, you know, and
+he declares that a great deal of harm is done by overstimulating the
+imagination by highly wrought fiction. 'A meal of horrors can nourish no
+one,' he would say."
+
+Edna chose to dispute this point, and a long and lively argument ensued
+between the girls until the luncheon bell silenced them.
+
+Richard did not appear at this meal; he was taking his bread and cheese
+under the hedge with the haymakers, Edna explained, or in other words,
+he had desired his luncheon to be sent to him.
+
+"He does not favor us much with his company, as you will soon see for
+yourself, Miss Lambert. My stepson is not a society man," observed Mrs.
+Sefton.
+
+"So much the better," was on Bessie's lips, but she prudently refrained
+from speaking the words. She was beginning to wonder, however, if Mrs.
+Sefton or Edna could mention his name without adding something
+disparaging. Edna especially was forever indulging in some light sarcasm
+at her brother's expense.
+
+They sat in the cool drawing-room a little while after luncheon, until
+the Athertons arrived with their rackets; and then they all went down to
+the tennis lawn.
+
+The Atherton's were nice-looking girls, and Bessie was rather taken with
+them, but she was somewhat surprised when they opened their lips. She
+was walking across the grass with Florence, the tallest and prettiest of
+the sisters, and, indeed, she was rather a sweet-looking girl.
+
+"Is it not a lovely day?" observed Bessie.
+
+"Awfully jolly," replied Miss Florence, in a sharp, clipping voice; and
+the next minute Bessie heard her call one of her sisters a duffer for
+missing the ball.
+
+"What would mother say?" thought Bessie. She was not much used to the
+typical girl of the period; after all, she was an old-fashioned little
+person.
+
+The Athertons were really nice girls, although they talked slang like
+their brothers, and conformed to all the foolish fashions of the day,
+disguising their honest, womanly hearts under blunt, flippant manners.
+
+"What a pity," said Bessie to herself, when she came to know them
+better. They were good-natured, clever girls, very fond of each other,
+and devoted to their mother and brothers. Reggie's examination--exam.,
+Florence called it--for Sandhurst; Harold's new coach, and Bertie's
+score at cricket, were the theme of their conversation. "I am afraid
+Harold won't pass," observed Sabina sadly. "His last coach was such a
+muff, but the man he has got now seems a good old sort. Harold can
+get on with him comfortably."
+
+"Well, what do you think of the girls?" asked Edna, when she and Bessie
+were left alone at the close of the afternoon.
+
+"I think they are very nice, Florence especially, but it is such a pity
+that they talk slang; it seems to spoil them, somehow."
+
+"I agree with you that it is bad style, but, you see, they have learned
+it from their brothers."
+
+Bad style, that was all. Bessie's gentle-looking mouth closed firmly
+with the expression it always wore when politeness forbade her to air
+her true opinions, but in her own heart she was saying:
+
+"Bad style. That is how worldly minded people talk. That is how they
+palliate these sins against good taste and propriety. I like these
+girls; they are genuine, somehow; but I suppose our bringing up has made
+us old-fashioned, for I seemed to shrink inwardly every time they opened
+their lips. Surely it must be wrong to lose all feminine refinement in
+one's language. There were no young men here, happily, to hear them; but
+if there had been, they would have expressed themselves in the same
+manner. That is what I cannot understand, now girls can lay aside their
+dignity and borrow masculine fashions. What a little lady Christine
+would have seemed beside them! Chrissy has such pretty manners."
+
+The dinner hour passed more pleasantly than on the previous evening.
+Richard talked more, and seemed tolerably at his ease. He followed them
+into the drawing-room afterward, and asked his sister to sing, but, to
+Bessie's vexation, Edna declined under the pretext of fatigue, and could
+not be induced to open the piano. Bessie felt provoked by her
+wilfulness, and she was so sorry to see the cloud on Richard's face, for
+he was passionately fond of music, as he had informed Bessie at
+dinner-time, that she ventured to remonstrate with Edna.
+
+"Do sing a little, just to please your brother; he looks so
+disappointed, and you know you are not a bit tired." But Edna shook her
+head, and her pretty face looked a little hard.
+
+"I do not wish to please him; it is just because he has asked me that I
+will not sing a note this evening. I intend to punish Richard for his
+rudeness to me. I begged him to stay home for our garden party
+to-morrow; but no, he will not give up his stupid cricket. He says he is
+captain, and must be with his boys; but that is all nonsense; he does it
+to spite me."
+
+"Oh, very well," returned Bessie good-humoredly, for she would not
+quarrel with Edna for her perversity. "If you mean to be so obdurate, I
+will sing myself." And Bessie actually walked across the room and
+addressed Richard, who was moodily turning over his sister's music.
+
+"Edna does not feel inclined to sing to-night, but if you can put up
+with my deficiencies, I will try what I can do. My music is rather
+old-fashioned, but I know one or two pretty ballads, if you care to hear
+them."
+
+"Thanks; I should like it very much," was all Richard said, as he opened
+the piano; but his face cleared like magic. It was not the song he
+wanted, but that some one should care to please him. All his life long
+this had been his longing; and the cold indifference with which his
+expressed wishes had always been met by his mother and Edna had chilled
+his affectionate nature. Bessie had a pretty voice, though it showed
+want of training, but she could sing a simple ballad with much sweetness
+and feeling, and Richard, who had a fine ear for music, avowed himself
+much pleased.
+
+"You ought to have some good lessons," he said frankly. "Your voice has
+great capabilities, but it has not been properly trained. I hope you do
+not think my criticism rude."
+
+"No, indeed; I am too much aware of my own faults. I have only had a few
+lessons. Miss James was not much of a teacher, but I cannot help
+singing somehow. Now, have I tired you, or do you want another song?"
+
+"I want more than one," returned Richard, growing bold. Bessie's
+readiness to please, her good-humored reception of his criticism,
+charmed him. She was so amiable, so willing to be friendly; she was so
+different from the other girls who came to The Grange. Richard had no
+patience with them; their airs and graces, their evident desire for
+masculine admiration disgusted and repelled him. They seemed always
+seeking for him to pay them little compliments and attentions, and in
+his heart he despised them.
+
+"Thank you, my dear," observed Mrs. Sefton graciously, when Bessie had
+finished. "She sings very nicely, does she not, Edna?"
+
+"Charmingly," replied Edna; but her smile was hardly as pleased as
+usual, and she bade Bessie a somewhat cold good-night when they parted
+an hour later.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+EDNA HAS A GRIEVANCE.
+
+
+Bessie did not concern herself much about her friend's coldness. She had
+tried to atone to Richard for his sister's unkindness, and she had
+succeeded in giving one person pleasure.
+
+"I dare say her conscience tells her that she has been naughty, and that
+makes her cross with me," thought Bessie, who was too healthy minded to
+harbor unnecessary scruples.
+
+Hatty would have made herself wretched under the circumstances; would
+have accused herself of boldness, and love of display, and a want of
+consideration for Edna; for Hatty, who was a self-tormentor by nature,
+could spin a whole web of worries out of a single thread; but Bessie
+never troubled herself with morbid after-thoughts. "Edna will be all
+right with me to-morrow," she said to herself; and she was right in her
+prognostication.
+
+Edna came downstairs the next morning radiant with good humor, and was
+even civil to Richard. It was a brilliant day; her friends had all
+accepted her invitation, and she was looking forward to a most enjoyable
+afternoon.
+
+It was impossible for Bessie to resist the influence of her friend's
+gayety and flow of spirits. Edna's example was infectious, and Bessie
+was soon laughing heartily at her nonsensical speeches. There was no
+quiet for reading that morning. She had to practice tennis with Edna,
+and help her arrange the flowers; and finally she was carried off to be
+made smart.
+
+"I wish you had a white dress, too," observed Edna regretfully; for in
+her heart she thought Bessie's favorite gray gown very dowdy and
+Quakerish. "But we must try to enliven you with a few flowers. You are
+going to wear a gray hat. Wait a moment." And Edna darted out of the
+room, and returned a moment afterward with a dainty cream lace fichu.
+"Look, this lace is lovely! Mamma gave it to me, but I never wear it
+now, and it will just suit you. Now let me fasten in a few of those
+creamy roses. Well, you do look nice after all, Daisy dear."
+
+"Yes; but not half so nice as you," replied Bessie, looking with honest
+admiration at the pretty young creature. Edna's soft white dress just
+suited her fair hair and delicate complexion, and she looked so slim and
+graceful, as she stood before the glass fastening a rosebud at her
+throat, that Bessie said, involuntarily, "How nice it must be to be so
+pretty!" but there was no trace of envy in her tone.
+
+Edna blushed a little over the compliment.
+
+"Do I look pretty? Thank you, Bessie. Isn't it a pity Neville cannot see
+me?" and she laughed mischievously over her vain speech. "Now, come
+along, there's a dear, or the people will arrive before we are ready for
+them. There, I declare I hear Florence's voice!" And the two girls ran
+down and joined Mrs. Sefton in the drawing-room.
+
+Well, it was a very pleasant garden party, and Bessie thoroughly enjoyed
+herself, though it was the grandest affair she had ever seen--so many
+people driving up in their carriages, and such smart footmen lingering
+in the hall, and a bevy of officers who were quartered in the
+neighborhood. But Bessie was not left out in the cold. Florence Atherton
+took her under her wing, and introduced some nice people to her. She
+even took part in one game when there was a vacancy, and her partner, a
+young lieutenant, was very good-natured, and only laughed when she
+missed the ball.
+
+"We have won, after all, you see," he observed, when the match was over.
+
+"Yes, thanks to you," replied Bessie honestly.
+
+"Not at all. You played very well. Now shall we go and get an ice? I
+wonder what's become of Sefton? I don't see him anywhere."
+
+"Oh, he is playing cricket at Melton. He is captain of the village club,
+I believe. I don't think he cares for tennis."
+
+"I suppose not," was the dry rejoinder; but the young man slightly
+elevated his eyebrows in a meaning manner. Bessie heard other remarks on
+Richard's absence before the end of the afternoon. A young lady to whom
+she had been recently introduced addressed the same question to her.
+
+"Mr. Sefton is not putting in an appearance this afternoon, Miss
+Lambert."
+
+"No, I believe not; he is otherwise engaged."
+
+"It is very odd," replied Miss Green significantly; "but Mr. Sefton
+always is engaged when his sister gives one of her parties. I am told he
+hates society, and that sort of thing. Isn't it a pity that he should be
+so different from Edna? She is a darling, and so charming, but her
+brother--" and here Miss Green shrugged her shoulders, and her keen
+black eyes seemed to demand Bessie's opinion; but Bessie made no
+rejoinder. She was not much prepossessed with Miss Green, and left her
+as soon as politeness allowed her, to sit with an old lady who was very
+chatty and amusing, and who called her "my dear" at every word.
+
+It was no use trying to speak to Edna; she was always surrounded by a
+group of young people. Once or twice the thought crossed Bessie's mind,
+how Mr. Sinclair would like to see her laughing and talking so long
+with that handsome Captain Grant. She was not exactly flirting--Bessie
+would not do her that injustice--but she allowed him to pay her a great
+deal of attention. It struck her that Mrs. Sefton was uneasy, for she
+called her to her side once.
+
+"My dear Miss Lambert, I cannot attract Edna's attention, and I want to
+speak to her particularly; she is somewhere in the shrubberies with that
+tall man with the dark mustache--Captain Grant. I spoke to her as she
+passed just now, but neither of them heard me."
+
+"Shall I go and fetch her, Mrs. Sefton?"
+
+"I shall be very glad if you will do so, my dear." And Bessie at once
+started in pursuit. She overtook them by the summer-house. Edna looked
+rather bored as she received her mother's message, though she at once
+obeyed it; but Captain Grant kept his place at her side.
+
+Mrs. Sefton received him rather coldly.
+
+"Edna," she said, addressing her daughter, "I want to speak to you about
+the Mackenzie's; they are sitting quite alone, and no one is talking to
+them; and that tall brother of their's has not played a single game."
+
+"That is his own fault. I offered him Marian Atherton for a partner ages
+ago, but he plays badly; as for the girls, they keep aloof from
+everybody. I introduced Mr. Sayers and Major Sparkes to them, but they
+have evidently frightened them away. Mamma, are we engaged for Thursday?
+because Captain Grant wants us to go and see the officers play polo."
+
+"That is the day I am going up to town, Edna."
+
+"But you can put it off," she interposed eagerly. "It will be such fun.
+Mrs. Grant is to give us tea, and it will be such a treat for Bessie."
+
+"My mother is counting upon the pleasure of seeing you all, Mrs. Sefton.
+She has been unable to call, but she is hoping to make your acquaintance
+in this way."
+
+"She is very kind, Captain Grant," returned Mrs. Sefton stiffly; "but
+unfortunately, as my daughter knows, I have a very important engagement
+for that day."
+
+"I am extremely sorry to hear it; still, if the young ladies care to
+drive over, my mother will chaperone them," persisted Captain Grant; "or
+perhaps their brother."
+
+"Oh, of course! I forgot Richard," exclaimed Edna, disregarding her
+mother's evident objections.
+
+Mrs. Sefton looked annoyed, but she said civilly:
+
+"I will see what Richard thinks; but you must not take anything for
+granted, Edna, until I have spoken to him."
+
+"Oh, I will tease him into taking us," returned Edna gayly. "I do love
+polo, and I am sure Bessie will be delighted. Now we must start another
+game, Captain Grant." And before her mother could interpose Edna had
+crossed the lawn with him.
+
+"Shall you be very disappointed if you do not see polo, Miss Lambert?"
+asked Mrs. Sefton presently.
+
+"No, indeed. But I am afraid Edna will be; she seems to have set her
+heart on going."
+
+"Richard will not take her," returned Mrs. Sefton; "he has a strong
+objection to Captain Grant; and I must own I think he is right. He is
+very handsome, but he has not a straightforward look. I have no wish to
+see him intimate here. He is forward and pushing, and does not take a
+rebuff. But Edna does not agree with me," with a quick, impatient sigh.
+
+Captain Grant's unfortunate invitation entirely marred the harmony of
+the evening. Directly the guests had left, the family sat down to a cold
+collation, instead of a regular dinner. Richard had only just come in
+and taken his place, declaring that he was as hungry as a hunter, when
+Edna informed him of their plans for Thursday.
+
+"Mamma has to go up to town, so she cannot possibly go with us, and the
+carriage will have to fetch her from the station, so you must drive us
+over to Staplehurst in your dog-cart, Ritchie. I dare say Bessie will
+think that fun."
+
+Richard glanced uneasily at his stepmother before he answered, as
+though he wished for her opinion, and she gave him a significant look.
+
+"I am very sorry, Edna, but I am afraid it is impossible. I have to go
+over to Fordham on business, and I cannot possibly be back until six."
+
+"On some stupid farming business, I suppose," returned Edna, and it was
+evident her temper could ill brook the contradiction. Her color rose,
+and there was an ominous sparkle in her eye; but Richard answered
+composedly:
+
+"Yes; I have to meet Medway and Stephenson. I am sorry to disappoint you
+and Miss Lambert but Thursday is never a free day with me."
+
+"No, indeed, nor any other day of the week when I want you to do
+anything," returned Edna, with rising excitement. "Now don't make any
+more excuses, Richard. Do you think I am a child to believe in your
+Medways and Stephensons? I saw you look at mamma before you answered,
+and you think she does not wish me to go."
+
+"My darling, why need you excite yourself so?" exclaimed Mrs. Sefton.
+
+"It is you that excite me, mamma, you and Richard. You have got some
+foolish notion in your heads about Captain Grant, just because the poor
+man is civil to me. You treat me, both of you, as though I were a
+baby--as though I could not be trusted to take care of myself. It is
+very unjust," continued Edna, "and I will not bear it from Richard."
+
+"I confess I don't see the gist of your remarks," returned her brother,
+who was now growing angry in his turn; "and I don't think all this can
+be very amusing to Miss Lambert. If my mother has an objection to your
+keeping up an acquaintance with Captain Grant, it is your duty to give
+the thing up. In my opinion she is right; he is not the sort of friend
+for you, Edna, and his mother is disliked by all the officers' wives. I
+should think Sinclair would have a right to object to your frequent
+visits to Staplehurst."
+
+But Edna was in no mood to listen to reason.
+
+"Neville knows better than to state his objections to me," she returned
+haughtily; "and it is quite unnecessary to drag his name into the
+present conversation. I will only trouble you to answer me one question:
+Do you absolutely refuse to do me this favor, to drive Miss Lambert and
+me over to Staplehurst on Thursday?"
+
+"I must refuse," returned Richard firmly. "It is quite true that my
+engagement can be put off, but it is so evident that my mother objects
+to the whole thing, that I will not be a party to your disobeying her
+wishes."
+
+Edna rose from the table and made him a profound courtesy. "Thank you
+for your moral lecture, Richard; but it is quite thrown away. I am not
+going to be controlled like a child. If you will not take us, Bessie and
+I will go alone. I quite mean it, mamma." And Edna marched angrily out
+of the room.
+
+"Oh, dear," observed Mrs. Sefton fretfully; "I have not seen her so put
+out for months; it must have been your manner, Richard. You were so hard
+on the poor child. Now she will go and make herself ill with crying."
+
+"Did I misunderstand you?" asked Richard, astonished at this. "Did you
+wish me to take them, after all?"
+
+"Of course not; what an absurd question! I would not have Edna go for
+worlds. Neville only said the other day how much he disliked the Grants,
+and how he hoped Edna kept them at a distance. I think he has heard
+something to Captain Grant's disadvantage; but you know how wilful she
+is; you might have carried your point with a little tact and _finesse_,
+but you are always so clumsy with Edna."
+
+"You did not help me much," returned Richard rather bitterly. "You left
+me to bear the brunt of Edna's temper, as usual. Why did you not tell
+her yourself your reasons for disliking her to go? But, no; I am to be
+the scapegoat, as usual, and Edna will not speak to me for a week." And
+so saying he pushed his chair away and walked to the window.
+
+Mrs. Sefton did not answer her stepson. Most likely her conscience told
+her that his reproach was a just one. She only glanced at Bessie's
+grieved face and downcast eyes, and proposed to retire.
+
+The drawing-room was empty when they entered it, and as Bessie noticed
+Mrs. Sefton's wistful look round the room, she said timidly:
+
+"May I go and talk to Edna?"
+
+"No, my dear; far better not," was the reply. "Edna has a hot temper;
+she takes after her poor father in that. We must give her time to cool.
+I will go to her myself presently. She was very wrong to answer Richard
+in that way, but he has so little tact."
+
+Bessie did not trust herself to reply. She took her book to the window,
+that her hostess might not find it incumbent on her to talk, and in a
+short time Mrs. Sefton left the room. Richard entered it a moment later.
+
+"Are you alone?" he asked, in some surprise. "I suppose my mother has
+gone up to Edna?"
+
+"Yes; she is uneasy about her. Shall I play to you a little, Mr. Sefton?
+It is getting too dark to read." Bessie made this overture as a sort of
+amends to Richard, and the friendly little act seemed to soothe him.
+
+"You are very kind. I should like it of all things," he returned
+gratefully. So Bessie sat down and played her simple tunes and sung her
+little songs until the young man's perturbed spirits were calmed and
+quieted by the pure tones of the girlish voice; and presently when she
+paused for a minute, he said:
+
+"It is awfully good of you to take all this trouble for me."
+
+"Oh, no, it is not," replied Bessie, smiling. "I like singing; besides,
+you are feeling dull this evening; your talk with your sister has upset
+you."
+
+"No one ever noticed before if I were dull or not," he replied, with a
+sigh; "but I am afraid that sounds ungracious. I think we owe you an
+apology, Miss Lambert, for airing our family disagreements in your
+presence. I am more sorry than I can say that you should have been
+subjected to this unpleasantness."
+
+"Oh, never mind me," returned Bessie cheerfully. "I am only sorry for
+all of you. I dare say Edna did not mean half she said; people say all
+sorts of things when they are angry. I am afraid she is bitterly
+disappointed. I have heard her say before how fond she is of watching
+polo; but I dare say she will soon forget all about it."
+
+"I cannot flatter myself with that belief. Edna does not so easily
+forget when her whims are crossed. I dare say she will send me to
+Coventry all the week; but I can't help that. Nothing would induce me to
+drive her over to Staplehurst, and she will hardly carry out her threat
+of going without me."
+
+"Of course not," and Bessie fairly laughed.
+
+"No, it was an idle threat; but all the same it is very vexatious." But
+Bessie would not let him dwell on the grievance. She began telling him
+about Tom, and a funny scrape he had got into last term; and this led to
+a conversation about her home, and here Bessie grew eloquent; and she
+was in the midst of a description of Cliffe and its environs when Mrs.
+Sefton reappeared, looking fagged and weary, and informed them that Edna
+had a headache and had retired to bed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE FIRST SUNDAY AT THE GRANGE.
+
+
+The unfortunate dispute between Edna and her brother had taken place on
+Saturday evening, and as Bessie went up to her room that night she made
+up her mind that the first Sunday at Oatlands would be a failure, as far
+as enjoyment was concerned.
+
+"I never can be happy myself unless I see others happy round me,"
+thought Bessie, rather mournfully; "and Edna has taken this
+disappointment so badly that I am afraid she will make us all suffer for
+it." But in this opinion she was wrong. Her acquaintance with Edna had
+been brief, and she had no suspicion of the intense pride that blended
+with Edna's wilfulness, nor of the tenacity, strange in such a bright
+young creature, that could quietly maintain its purpose under a
+careless, light-hearted exterior.
+
+Edna had evidently been ashamed of her outburst of temper on the
+previous evening, for she came down on Sunday morning looking a little
+pale and subdued, and very gentle in her manner to her mother and
+Bessie. She seemed to ignore Richard; beyond a cold good morning she
+did not vouchsafe him a word or a look; and as all his overtures toward
+reconciliation were passed over in chilling silence, he soon left her to
+herself.
+
+They all went to church together, and as they walked through the lanes
+Edna seemed to recover her buoyancy. She laughed and chatted with her
+mother, and made sprightly speeches in her usual way; and no one could
+have judged from her manner that there was a spot of bitterness under
+the smooth surface--an angry consciousness that Richard had dared to
+cross her will.
+
+Ah, well! there are many beside Edna who enter God's house with their
+darling sin hugged close to their bosom, fondled and cherished. Truly we
+may say we are miserable sinners, and that there is no health in us, for
+the black plague spot is often hidden under the white vesture,
+undetected by human insight, but clearly legible to the "Eye that seeth
+not as man seeth."
+
+Once Bessie looked up from her hymn-book as Edna's clear, high notes
+reached her ear. Edna seemed singing with all her heart:
+
+    "Oh, Paradise! Oh, Paradise!
+     Who does not crave for rest?"
+
+Her brown eyes were soft with feeling, there was a sweet, almost
+angelic look upon her face; a passing emotion possessed her. Alas, that
+such moods should be transitory! And yet it has ever been so in the
+world's history. Unsanctified human nature is always fickle, and the
+"Hosanna" of yesterday become the "Crucify Him" of to-day.
+
+After their early luncheon, Edna asked Bessie if she would go with her
+to see the Athertons.
+
+"Mamma indulges in a nap on Sunday afternoons," she explained, "and as I
+am not fond of my own company, I run in and have a chat with the girls."
+
+"If you would excuse me," returned Bessie, looking rather uncomfortable,
+"I would so much rather stay at home. You see, I have been accustomed to
+spend Sunday very quietly. We have never paid visits as some people do.
+Church and Sunday-school and a little sacred music and reading, and the
+day soon passes. If you do not mind, I would rather sit in the garden,
+or take a stroll through those lovely lanes, than go to the Athertons'."
+
+Edna looked exceedingly amused at this speech, and at Bessie's hot
+cheeks.
+
+"My dear Daisy, don't look so perturbed. This is Liberty Hall, and our
+guests always do exactly as they please. I would not interfere with your
+little prudish ways for the world. I do not require your company in the
+least. You may retire to your own room and read the 'Pilgrim's
+Progress,' with the blinds down, if you please, and mamma and I will not
+say a word. There's Blair's 'Sermons' in the attic, and Hervey's
+'Meditations Among the Tombs.' They are a bit dusty, perhaps, but you
+won't object to that, for they are full of wholesome and cheerful
+reading."
+
+"Thank you," returned Bessie, undisturbed by this light banter. "But I
+brought a book from home, in which I am much interested--'Bishop
+Hannington's Life'--and as you are so good as to spare me, I mean to
+explore some of those shady lanes; they are so nice and quiet."
+
+Edna was about to make another mischievous rejoinder, but as she looked
+at Bessie she refrained. Bessie's contented, gentle expression, the
+quiet dignity that seemed to invest her girlishness, closed Edna's
+mouth.
+
+"She is a good little thing, and I won't tease her," she thought. And
+she refrained with much magnanimity from one of her droll speeches when
+Maud Atherton asked where Miss Lambert was.
+
+"She preferred taking a walk," returned Edna; which was the truth, but
+not the whole truth, for, as she said to herself, "those girls shall not
+have the chance of laughing at my dear little Bessie." And she cleverly
+changed the conversation to a safer topic; for she was quite a
+diplomatist in her small way.
+
+"Edna is really very good-natured," thought Bessie gratefully, as she
+sauntered happily through the leafy lanes.
+
+How delicious the air felt! It was June, and yet there was still the
+crispness of the spring. She felt as though she and the birds had this
+beautiful world to themselves, and the twitterings and rustlings in the
+thicket were the only sounds that broke the Sabbath stillness.
+
+Bessie had just turned into a sunny bit of road when an abject-looking
+white dog with a black patch over his eye suddenly wriggled himself
+through a half-closed gate.
+
+"Why, I do believe that is Bill Sykes," thought Bessie, as the creature
+stood looking at her. "Bill, what are you doing so far from home?" Bill
+wagged his tail feebly in a deprecating manner. "Why don't you walk like
+a gentleman?" continued Bessie, and, to her great amusement, the dog
+rose solemnly on his hind legs and commenced stalking down the lane.
+Bessie burst into a laugh that was echoed by another voice.
+
+"Well done, old Bill." And, looking up, Bessie saw Richard Sefton
+leaning on the gate, with his dogs round him. "Don't move, Miss
+Lambert," he continued hastily; "stand where you are till I join you."
+And as Bessie looked rather surprised at this peremptory speech, he
+walked quickly to her side and put his hand on her shoulder. "A friend,
+Leo. Excuse my unceremoniousness, Miss Lambert, but Leo needs an
+introduction;" and at his words a huge mastiff, who had been eyeing
+Bessie in a dubious manner, walked quietly up to her.
+
+"Will it be safe for me to pat him?" asked Bessie, as she looked at the
+big tawny head and heavy jowl of the magnificent beast; but the brown
+sunken eyes had a friendly expression in them.
+
+"Oh, yes, Leo will be as quiet as a lamb; and what is more, he will
+never forget you. You may go within the reach of his chain any day, and
+he will behave to you like a gentleman. Leo is an aristocrat, and never
+forgets _noblesse oblige_."
+
+"He is a splendid animal," returned Bessie; and then she noticed the
+other dogs. They were all there: Gelert and Brand, and Juno and her
+puppies, and Spot and Tim.
+
+"We have been for a long walk," observed Richard, as they turned their
+faces homeward. "The dogs have been wild with spirits, and I had some
+difficulty with them at first. You see, they make the most of their
+weekly holiday."
+
+"What do you do on a wet Sunday?" asked Bessie curiously.
+
+"Well, I smoke a pipe with them in the stable, and so give them the
+pleasure of my company. I do hate disappointing dumb animals, Miss
+Lambert--they have their feelings as well as we have, and I think we
+ought to behave handsomely to them. I remember when I was quite a little
+fellow my mother taught me that."
+
+"Your mother!" in some surprise, for somehow Mrs. Sefton never gave
+Bessie the impression that her relations with Richard were of the
+motherly sort.
+
+"Oh, I mean my then mother," he returned hastily, as though answering
+her unspoken thought. "I was very young when she died, but I have never
+forgotten her. She was not a lady by birth, you know; only a farmer's or
+yeoman's daughter, but there is not a lady living who is prettier or
+sweeter than she was."
+
+"I am glad you feel like that to your mother," replied Bessie, in a
+sympathetic voice that seemed to ask for further confidence.
+
+Richard Sefton had never spoken of his mother to any one before. What
+could have drawn the beloved name from his lips? Was it this girl's
+soothing presence, or the stillness of the hour and the quiet beauty of
+the scene round him? Richard was impressionable by nature, and possibly
+each of these things influenced him. It was a new pleasure to speak to a
+kindly listener of the memories that lay hidden in his faithful heart.
+
+"Yes, and yet I was a mere child when I lost her," he went on, and
+there was a moved look on his face; "but I remember her as plainly as I
+see you now. She was so young and pretty--every one said so. I remember
+once, when I was lying in my little cot one night, too hot and feverish
+to sleep, that she came up to me in her white gown--it was made of some
+shining stuff, silk or satin--and she had a sparkling cross on her neck.
+I remember how it flashed in my eyes as she stooped to kiss me, and how
+she carried me to the window to look at the stars. 'Are they not bright,
+Ritchie?' she said; 'and beyond there is the great beautiful heaven,
+where my little boy will go some day;' and then she stood rocking me in
+her arms. I heard her say plainly, 'Oh, that I and my little child were
+there now!' And as she spoke something wet fell on my face. I have heard
+since that she was not happy--not as happy as she ought to have been,
+poor mother!"
+
+"And is that all you can remember?" asked Bessie gently.
+
+"Oh, no; I have many vague recollections of making daisy chains with my
+mother on the lawn; of a great yellow cowslip ball flung to me in the
+orchard; of a Sunday afternoon, when some pictures of Samuel, and David
+and Goliath, were shown me; and many other little incidents. Children do
+remember, whatever grown-up people say."
+
+"I think it would be terrible to lose one's mother, especially when one
+is a child," observed Bessie, in a feeling voice.
+
+"I have found it so, I assure you," replied Richard gravely. "My
+stepmother was young, and did not understand children--boys especially.
+I seemed somewhat in the way to every one but my father. A lonely
+childhood is a sad thing; no success nor happiness in after life seems
+to make up for it."
+
+"I understand what you mean; father always says children claim happiness
+as a right."
+
+"It is most certainly their prerogative; but I fear I am boring you with
+my reminiscences."
+
+"Not at all; you are giving me a great pleasure, Mr. Sefton. I do like
+knowing about people--their real selves, I mean, not their outside; it
+is so much more interesting than any book. I think, as a rule, people
+shut themselves up too much, and so they exclude light and sympathy."
+
+"One longs for sympathy sometimes," said Richard; but he turned away his
+face as he spoke.
+
+"Yes; every one needs it, and most of us get it," replied Bessie,
+feeling very sorry for the young man in her heart. He was too manly and
+too generous to complain openly of his stepmother's treatment, but
+Bessie understood it all as well as though he had spoken.
+
+"In a large family there is no complaint to be made on this score. When
+I have a grievance there is always mother or Hatty, or Christine and
+father. We take all our big things to father. Oh, at home, no one is
+left out in the cold."
+
+"I think your home must be a happy one, Miss Lambert--but here we are at
+The Grange. I must bid you good-bye for the present, for I have an
+errand in the village."
+
+But Richard did not explain that his errand was to sit with a crippled
+lad, whose life of suffering debarred him from all pleasure. If there
+were one person in the world whom Bob Rollton adored it was "the young
+squire."
+
+"He is a real gentleman, he is," Bob would say; "and not one of your
+make-believe gentry. It is all along of him and Spot and the little 'un,
+Tim, that I don't hate Sundays; but he comes reg'lar, does the squire;
+and he brings some rare good books with him; and Tim curls himself up on
+my blanket, and Spot sits on the window-sill, making believe to listen,
+and we have a good old time."
+
+Other people beside Bob could have cited instances of the young squire's
+thoughtfulness and active benevolence; but Richard Sefton was one who
+did good by stealth, and almost as though he were ashamed of it, and
+neither his stepmother nor Edna guessed how much he was beloved in the
+village.
+
+Mrs. Sefton was one of those people who never believed in virtue, unless
+it had the special hall-mark that conventionality stamps upon it, and
+Richard's simple charities, his small self-denials, would have appeared
+despicable in her eyes. She herself gave largely to the poor at
+Christmas; blankets and clothing by the bale found their way to the East
+End. The vicar of Melton called her "The benevolent Mrs. Sefton," but
+she and Edna never entered a cottage, never sat beside a sick bed, nor
+smoothed a dying pillow. Edna would have been horrified at such a
+suggestion. What had her bright youth to do with disease, dirt and
+misery? "Don't tell me about it," was her usual cry, when any one
+volunteered to relate some piteous story. That such things should be
+allowed in a world governed by a merciful Providence was incredible,
+terrible, but that she should be brought into contact with it was an
+offence to her ladylike judgment.
+
+Many a girl has thought like Edna Sefton, and yet a royal princess could
+enter a squalid cottage, and take the starving babe to her bosom; and
+from that day to this Princess Alice has been a type of loving
+womanhood.
+
+Edna had not returned from the Athertons when Bessie entered the house,
+so she went alone to the evening service. As the service was at
+half-past six, an informal meal was served at a quarter past eight, to
+allow the servants to attend church. Bessie was rather surprised at this
+mark of thoughtfulness, but she found out afterward that Richard had
+induced his stepmother, with some difficulty, to give up the ceremonious
+late dinner. She urged as an objection that neither she nor Edna ever
+attended the evening service; but he overruled this, and carried his
+point.
+
+Just before service commenced, Bessie was surprised to see him enter the
+church. She had no idea that he would come, but he told her afterward
+that it was his usual practice.
+
+Just as they were starting for the homeward walk they were joined by a
+cousin of the Athertons. Bessie had seen her the previous day. She was a
+fair, interesting-looking girl, dressed in deep mourning. Her name was
+Grace Donnerton. Richard seemed to know her well. He had evidently
+waited for her to overtake them, and they all walked on happily
+together.
+
+Bessie was much taken with her. She was the daughter of a clergyman, who
+had a large parish in Leeds, and she interested Bessie very much in her
+account of her own and her sister's work. They had lately lost their
+mother, and it was surprising to hear of the way in which these young
+creatures helped their father in his good work.
+
+"When any one is ill, we generally help in nursing them," Grace had
+said, quite simply. "There are so many of us that we can easily be
+spared, and we are so fond of our poor people. We have all attended
+ambulance lectures, and Lizzie, that is my eldest sister, is now
+training for a year at a hospital. She is very strong, and so fond of
+nursing, and she hopes to be very useful when she comes home. There are
+five of us, and we take turns in being papa's housekeeper. Emma, who is
+very clever, manages the mother's meeting, and the rest of us do
+district work."
+
+Bessie was so interested by all this that she was sorry when the walk
+drew to a close. After they had said good-bye to Miss Donnerton, Bessie
+said "What a nice girl! I am sure I should like to know more of her."
+
+"Yes; I knew she would be your sort; that is why I waited for her,"
+replied Richard, as he opened the gate.
+
+Bessie wondered over this speech as she ran up to her room. "My sort!
+what could he have meant by that?" she said to herself. "I only wish I
+were like Miss Donnerton, for I am sure she is sweet and good. Well, it
+has been a lovely day. I have not wished myself at home once. Now I must
+devote myself to Edna."
+
+Edna looked a little tired and bored, and Bessie did not find it easy
+to interest her. She appeared to be quite indifferent to Miss
+Donnerton's merits.
+
+"Oh, Grace! so you like her, do you? Well, I must confess she is too
+good for me. I never found her say anything interesting yet, but then I
+did not talk to her about poor people," and Edna sneered slightly in a
+ladylike way. "I think all the girls were relieved when she went to
+church, for we could not get her to talk about anything."
+
+Yes, Edna was decidedly impracticable that evening. She would not be
+induced to play or sing; she was not in the humor for sacred music; no,
+she did not want to read; and everything was slow and stupid.
+
+Bessie coaxed her into the garden at last, and the soft evening air
+refreshed her in spite of herself.
+
+"Don't you ever feel _ennuyee_ and horrid?" she asked, in a sort of
+apologetic manner, presently.
+
+"Oh, yes, I suppose so; at least, I don't quite know what you mean,"
+returned Bessie; but she was not thinking of the question. The stars
+were glittering overhead, and Richard Sefton's words recurred to her.
+How clearly she could see it all! The little lonely boy in his cot, the
+young mother coming up to soothe him. She could picture her so plainly
+in the white shining gown and the sparkling cross, with the tears
+falling on the child's face. "Oh, that I and my little child were there
+now!" Oh, how sad it all sounded; and she had gone, and not taken the
+boy with her. "Poor Mr. Sefton!" thought Bessie, as she recalled the
+sad, quiet tones and the moved look on Richard's face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+WHITEFOOT IN REQUISITION.
+
+
+Three days after this Bessie wrote the following letter--it was
+commenced on Wednesday, and finished on Thursday morning:
+
+    "MY DEAR LITTLE HATTIE: It is your turn for a regular long
+    letter, as I have already written to mother and Christine. I
+    don't write to father because he is so busy, and letters bother
+    him; but you must tell him all the news. You cannot think how
+    Edna laughs at my correspondence; she always says it is such
+    waste of time; but you and I know better than that. It is just
+    the one thing that I can do for you all, now that I am away, and
+    I am not so selfish that I grudge an hour in the day. I know how
+    disappointed one face looks when there is no letter from Bessie
+    in the morning, and so I lay down my book and scribble away as I
+    am doing now.
+
+    "I am having a lovely time. I do not think I have ever played so
+    much in my life before. It is such a new thing, and yet it is
+    rather nice, too, to hear Edna say in the morning, 'Now, what
+    shall we do to-day?' as though one's whole duty were to amuse
+    one's self. Father always says, 'Whatever you do, do it
+    thoroughly,' and I am carrying out his maxim to the letter, for
+    I do nothing but enjoy myself, and I do it thoroughly. On
+    Monday I finished my letter to Crissy before breakfast, and
+    afterward, as Edna was busy, I spent a long morning reading 'The
+    Village on the Cliff.' I have finished it now, and think it
+    lovely. I do enjoy these mornings in the garden; but I must not
+    read too many stories, only Edna says I shall like 'Old
+    Kensington,' and I must indulge myself with that. I assure you
+    we make quite a picture. Mac lies at my feet, and Spot generally
+    curls himself up on my lap. Tim prefers lying on the lawn and
+    keeping an eye upon the kitten. She is such a droll little
+    creature, and her antics quite distract me.
+
+    "Well, I had this delicious morning to myself, and in the
+    afternoon we played tennis at the Athertons'. There were no
+    visitors, but we girls played by ourselves, and I had a long
+    talk with Grace Donnerton. I liked her better than ever; but
+    just as she was talking to me about her sister's hospital, Maud
+    Atherton disturbed us by telling us tea was ready.
+
+    "The next morning Edna drove me over to Kimberley--such a lovely
+    drive; and the ponies were so frisky and went so well. We called
+    at a beautiful old house, called Kimberley Hall--I never saw
+    such a place--and had luncheon there. Mrs. Blondell, our
+    hostess, is such a dear old lady, with pretty white curls, and
+    such a sweet old face. Her husband is such a handsome old man;
+    but he is quite deaf, and no one seems to make him hear anything
+    except his wife, and she goes up and speaks to him in a low,
+    distinct voice, and tells him things, and he brightens up at
+    once. He is such a courtly old man, and pays little
+    old-fashioned compliments. He took Edna's hand and said, 'We do
+    not often see a pretty young face, my dear, but it is a very
+    pleasant sight. I remember your mother when she was a girl, and
+    a fine, handsome creature she was. I think her daughter does her
+    credit, eh, Dolly?' And Dolly--that is the dear old lady's
+    name--put her pretty old hand on his arm, and said, 'She does
+    indeed, Rupert, and she has got a look of our Maisie about her;'
+    and then they looked at each other in such a way.
+
+    "Edna explained it to me as we drove home. She said they had one
+    child, a beautiful girl, who lived until she was seventeen, and
+    then died of some wasting disease. She had been dead fifteen
+    years, but the old couple had never got over her loss. 'I am
+    there often,' Edna went on, 'but I have never once been without
+    hearing Maisie's name mentioned; they are always talking about
+    her. One day Mrs. Blondell took me upstairs and showed me all
+    her things. There were her little gowns, most of them white,
+    folded in the big wardrobe. 'She was to have worn this at her
+    first ball,' said the poor woman, pulling down a lace dress; it
+    looked quite fresh somehow, only the satin slip was a trifle
+    discolored. There were the shoes, and the silk stockings, and a
+    case of pearls, and the long gloves. 'She would have looked
+    lovely in it,' she went on, smoothing out the folds with her
+    tremulous fingers. 'Rupert says she would have made hearts ache.
+    Thank you my dear, you are very kind,' for I could not help
+    hugging the dear old thing. It made me cry, too, to hear her.
+    'I go there very often because they like to see me; they will
+    have it I am like Maisie, but I am not half so pretty.' And
+    Edna laughed, though her eyes were moist, and touched up Jill
+    rather smartly.
+
+    "We had some people to dinner that evening, so Edna made me put
+    on my Indian muslin, which she said looked very nice. She wore a
+    soft white silk herself, which suited her admirably. She has
+    some beautiful dresses which she showed me; she says her mother
+    thinks nothing too good for her, and showers presents on her.
+    She gets tired of her dresses before they are half worn out. I
+    was half afraid she was going to offer me one, for she looked at
+    me rather wistfully, but I made a pretext to leave the room. I
+    enjoyed myself very much that evening. The curate took me in to
+    dinner, and I found him very clever and amusing, and he talked
+    so much that, though I was very hungry, I could hardly get
+    enough to eat; but Edna, who declared that she had had no dinner
+    either, brought me up a great plate of cake when we went to bed.
+    Edna sang beautifully that evening, and the curate--his name is
+    Horton--sung too, and Florence Atherton brought her violin. I
+    had never heard a lady play the violin before, but Edna tells me
+    I am old-fashioned, and that it is all the rage at present, and
+    certainly Miss Atherton played extremely well.
+
+    "Good-bye for the present, dear Hatty; I will add more
+    to-morrow. This is a sort of journal, you know, not a letter,
+    and I shall write a little bit each day.
+
+    "'Do be nice and lengthy,' you said, and I am sure I am carrying
+    out your wish."
+
+        "Thursday morning.
+
+    "Well, here I am again sitting at my writing-table, pen in hand,
+    and 'the top of the morning to ye, darlint,' as Biddy used to
+    say; but my Hatty will be still asleep, I know, as she is not
+    one of the strong ones, poor little Hatty! Such a wonderful
+    thing happened to me yesterday--I actually had a riding-lesson.
+    Do tell father that, for he knows how I used to envy Tom when
+    Colonel Miles gave him a mount. It happened in this way. Edna
+    was talking at breakfast time about her ride in the Row, and Mr.
+    Sefton said suddenly, 'How would you like to learn to ride, Miss
+    Lambert?' and not thinking he meant anything by the question, I
+    said, 'I should like it of all things. I do long for a good
+    gallop.'
+
+    "'Oh, you must not gallop before you trot,' he returned, quite
+    seriously; 'Edna, if you still have your old habit by you, I
+    don't see why I should not give Miss Lambert a lesson. Old
+    Whitefoot is doing nothing for her living.'
+
+    "Well--would you believe it?--he was quite in earnest, and Edna,
+    who is very good-natured, seemed to think it a good bit of fun,
+    for she jumped up from the table and told her brother to bring
+    Whitefoot round in half an hour; and then she made me go
+    upstairs with her and put on a beautiful blue habit, which
+    seemed to me quite new; but she said she had a much better one
+    made for her last season. It fitted me tolerably, and only
+    required a little alteration to be perfect--and I assure you I
+    hardly knew myself in it, I looked so nice; but a dark habit is
+    always so becoming. Edna looks like a picture in hers.
+
+    "Well, when we went downstairs, there was Whitefoot--such a
+    pretty brown mare--with Mr. Sefton standing beside her, and
+    Brown Bess was being brought round from the stable. I was just a
+    little nervous at first, but Mr. Sefton was very kind and
+    patient; he taught me how to gather up my reins, and how to hold
+    myself; and he would not mount for some time, but walked beside
+    me for a little distance, telling me things, and when he saw I
+    felt less strange he jumped on Brown Bess, and we had a canter
+    together.
+
+    "My dear Hatty, it was just delicious! I never felt happier in
+    my life. But Mr. Sefton would not let me ride long; he said I
+    should be very stiff at first, and that we should have a longer
+    ride to-morrow, when Edna would be with us; and of course I had
+    to submit.
+
+    "I was far too lazy to play tennis that afternoon, so Edna made
+    me get into the hammock, and I had a nice, quiet time with my
+    book, while she and the Athertons had their usual games, and bye
+    and bye Grace Donnerton came and sat by me, and we had another
+    nice talk.
+
+    "The next morning Edna said she would ride with us, so Mr.
+    Sefton ordered the horses directly after breakfast, and we had a
+    glorious ride for more than two hours. I found trotting rather
+    difficult at first, but Mr. Sefton would not let Edna laugh at
+    my awkwardness, and he encouraged me by telling me that I
+    should soon ride well, and after that I did not mind a bit. Edna
+    really rides perfectly; it was a pleasure to watch her. Once she
+    left us and had a tearing gallop by herself over the common. The
+    other horses got excited and wanted to gallop too, but Mr.
+    Sefton held Whitefoot's reins, and managed to quiet them both
+    with some difficulty. I thought Edna looked lovely as she rode
+    back to us; she had such a beautiful color, and her eyes looked
+    so bright I don't wonder people admire her so.
+
+    "Edna was going to an archery meeting that afternoon with the
+    Athertons, but as there was no room for me in their wagonette, I
+    stayed at home quietly with Mrs. Sefton, and managed to make
+    myself useful, for several people called, and I had to make tea
+    and help entertain them; but I got a quiet hour in my favorite
+    garden seat. Edna brought Florence and Maud Atherton back to
+    dinner, and we had a very merry evening, playing all sorts of
+    games. Mr. Sefton came into the drawing-room for a little while,
+    but he did not stay long. I think the girls quizzed him, and
+    made him uncomfortable. It is such a pity that he is not more at
+    his ease in society; people think he is stupid and cannot talk,
+    but he is really very intelligent, and knows a great deal about
+    a good many subjects. There is to be no ride to-morrow. Mrs.
+    Sefton is going up to town on business, and Edna is to accompany
+    her to the station, for, although Mr. Sefton suggested that I
+    should go out with him for an hour, I could see that they did
+    not second it.
+
+    "Now, darling, I have told you everything, and I think you will
+    own that I am having a good time. I hope all this pleasure is
+    not spoiling me, but I think of you all as much as ever, and
+    especially of my Hatty. Are you very dull without me, dear? And
+    how do you sleep? Write and tell me everything--how mother
+    looks, and what Tom said in his last letter, and if father is
+    busy. And if any of you want me very badly, you must say so, and
+    I will come home at once, though I do want some more rides, and
+    Edna has promised to drive me over to Kimberley again. But there
+    is the gong, and I must run down to breakfast. Good-bye, my
+    dearest Hatty.
+
+        "Your loving
+            "BESSIE."
+
+Bessie had written out of the fullness of her girlish content. She
+wanted to share her pleasure with Hatty. Happiness did not make her
+selfish, nor did new scenes and varied experiences shut out home
+memories, for Bessie was not one of those feeble natures who are carried
+out of themselves by every change of circumstances, neither had she the
+chameleon-like character that develops new tendencies under new
+influences; at The Grange she was just the same simple, kindly Bessie
+Lambert as she had been at Cliffe.
+
+After all, she was not disappointed of her ride. Jennings, the groom,
+had a commission to do at Leigh, and Richard proposed to his stepmother
+that Bessie should ride over there too. Jennings was an old servant, and
+very trusty and reliable, and she might be safely put in his charge. To
+this Mrs. Sefton made no objection, and Bessie had a delightful morning,
+and made good progress under Jennings' respectful hints. Bessie had just
+taken off her habit, and was preparing for luncheon, when Edna entered
+the room.
+
+"What dress are you going to wear this afternoon, Bessie?" she asked
+rather abruptly, and her manner was a little off-hand. "I shall be in
+white, of course, and I shall wear my gray dust cloak for the roads,
+but----"
+
+"What dress!" returned Bessie, rather puzzled at the question; she was
+hot and tired from her long ride, and had been looking forward to an
+afternoon of delicious idleness. "Is any one coming? I mean, are we
+going anywhere?"
+
+"Why, of course," replied Edna impatiently, and she did not seem in the
+best of tempers; "it is Thursday, is it not? and we are engaged for the
+polo match. You must make haste and finish dressing, for we must start
+directly after luncheon."
+
+"Do you mean that Mr. Sefton is going to drive us over to Staplehurst,
+after all?" asked Bessie, feeling very much astonished at Richard's
+change of plan; he had not even spoken on the subject at breakfast-time,
+but he must have arranged it afterward.
+
+"Richard!" rather contemptuously. "Richard is by this time lunching at
+the Fordham Inn, with half a dozen stupid farmers. Have you forgotten
+that he flatly refused to drive us at all? Oh, I have not forgotten his
+lecture, I assure you, though it does not seem to have made much
+impression on you. Well, why are you looking at me with such big eyes,
+Bessie, as though you found it difficult to understand me?"
+
+"Because I don't understand you Edna," replied Bessie frankly. "You know
+both your mother and brother objected to Captain Grant's invitation; you
+cannot surely intend to go in opposition to their wishes."
+
+"Their wishes! I suppose you mean Richard's wish, for mamma never opened
+her lips on the subject; she just listened to Richard's tirade."
+
+"But she did not contradict him; and surely you must have seen from her
+face that she agreed with every word." Bessie did not dare to add that
+Mrs. Sefton had expressed her strong disapproval of Captain Grant to
+her. "She was looking at you so anxiously all the time."
+
+"Oh, that is only mamma's fussiness. Of course I know she does not want
+me to go. I don't mean to pretend that I am not aware of that, but mamma
+knows that I generally have my own way in this sort of thing, and she
+did not actually forbid it."
+
+"Oh, Edna! what can that matter when you know her real wishes?"
+
+"My dear, don't preach; your words will not influence me in the least. I
+told Richard, before mamma, that I should go, and I mean to carry out my
+word. You are a free agent, Bessie; I cannot oblige you to go with me,
+but as the Athertons are all engaged, I could not get one of them in
+your place."
+
+"But if I say I cannot go, what will you do then?" asked Bessie
+anxiously.
+
+"In that case I should go alone," returned Edna coldly; "but I should
+think you were unkind to desert me."
+
+"I should have to bear that," replied Bessie rather sadly; "it is not
+what you would think of me, but what I ought to do. Oh, Edna, you are
+placing me in a very difficult position. I do not know how to act, and
+the whole thing distresses me so. Do give it up for my sake, and just to
+please me; do Edna, dear."
+
+"I cannot give it up," was Edna's answer; "but I will not argue any more
+about it. Make up your mind quickly, Bessie, for there is no time to
+lose." And so saying, she left the room, and a moment afterward Bessie
+heard her ringing for her maid.
+
+Bessie had never felt more distressed; she was so tired and so perplexed
+how to act, that she could almost have cried from worry. "If I go with
+her, will not Mrs. Sefton and Mr. Richard have a right to be offended
+with me?" she thought. "They will not know that I have tried to turn
+Edna from her purpose; they do not know me well enough to be sure of my
+motives. Edna told him that I wanted to see polo played; they may
+believe that I was willing to go. I cannot bear to put myself in this
+position; and yet, will it be right to let her go alone? Will they not
+blame me for that, too? Oh, how I wish I could speak to Mr. Sefton; but
+he is away. What shall I do? I must decide. It seems such a little thing
+to pray about, and yet little things bring big consequences. No, I can't
+moralize; I am too worried. Why can I not see the right thing to do at
+once?"
+
+Bessie sat and reflected a moment, and then a sudden impulse came to
+her, and she opened her blotting-case, and wrote a few hurried lines.
+
+"Dear Mrs. Sefton," she wrote, "I am so troubled, I hardly know what to
+do. Edna has just told me that she intends to drive over to Staplehurst
+after luncheon to see polo played, and has asked me to accompany her. I
+cannot induce her to give it up. Please do not think that I have not
+tried. I know how much you and Mr. Sefton were against it; but I do not
+think you would wish me to stay behind. She ought not to go alone. I
+feel you will be less anxious if I go with her." Bessie dashed off these
+few lines, and then dressed herself hurriedly; but before she had half
+finished the gong sounded.
+
+As she ran downstairs she met Dixon, the butler, coming out of the
+dining-room, and putting the note in his hand, begged that he would give
+it to his mistress directly she returned.
+
+"Certainly, ma'am," replied Dixon civilly; and it struck Bessie that he
+looked at her in an approving manner. He was an old servant, too, and
+most likely was accustomed to his young mistress' vagaries. "We expect
+my mistress home at six, and I will take care she gets the note," he
+continued, as he opened the door for her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+BESSIE SNUBS A HERO.
+
+
+"So you are going, after all?" was the only remark made by Edna, as she
+caught sight of Bessie's gray gown. "Well, be quick; I have nearly
+finished my luncheon. I thought you were never coming, and there was no
+time to lose."
+
+"I will not keep you waiting," returned Bessie, whose healthy young
+appetite failed her for once. "I am not hungry."
+
+"Nonsense?" said Edna, with restored good-humor. "You will find this
+mayonnaise excellent. You have had a long ride, and the drive to
+Staplehurst will take nearly an hour. We shall have a lovely afternoon
+for our expedition."
+
+Edna was chatting in her old lively fashion. She really looked
+exquisitely pretty this afternoon, and she seemed to take a delight in
+her own naughtiness. Her eyes sparkled mischievously every time she
+looked at Bessie's grave face. She was as frisky as a young colt who had
+just taken his bit between his teeth and had bolted. Her spirits seemed
+to rise during her long drive, and she talked and laughed without
+intermission.
+
+Bessie tried to respond and to make herself agreeable, but her efforts
+failed signally. She looked forward to the afternoon as a long martyrdom
+to be endured; the thought of Mrs. Sefton's and Richard's reproachful
+faces came between her and all enjoyment. Edna took no notice of her
+unusual gravity; she had gained her end, and obliged Bessie to bear her
+unwilling company, and so she was satisfied. It was almost a relief to
+Bessie when the drive was over, and they found themselves at
+Staplehurst.
+
+Polo was to be played in a large park-like meadow belonging to
+Staplehurst Hall. As they drove in at the gate, two or three of the
+officers who were to play were walking about in their bright silk
+jerseys, while their ponies followed them, led by their grooms. One came
+up at once, and greeted the young ladies.
+
+"I was on the lookout for you, Miss Sefton," he observed, with a smile
+that he evidently intended to be winning, but which Bessie thought was
+extremely disagreeable. "I knew you would not disappoint me, even if
+Sefton proved obdurate."
+
+"Richard had some stupid farming engagement," returned Edna, "so I
+brought Miss Lambert instead. Is your mother on the ground, Captain
+Grant?"
+
+"Yes; let me take you to her," he replied, with alacrity; but it was
+some time before Jack and Jill made their way to the central point where
+the ladies were sitting. Several of the officers joined Captain Grant,
+and there was quite a triumphal procession through the field. Edna sat
+like a little queen guiding her ponies, and distributing smiles and gay
+speeches. Admiration and pleasure were as the breath of life to her; she
+was at once peremptory and gracious; she looked down at her escort with
+a sort of benign amusement. When Captain Grant handed her out of the low
+chaise, she made her way through the ladies with the air of a princess.
+
+A tall, high-colored woman, with dark hair, and dressed in rather bad
+taste, held out her hand and welcomed her warmly.
+
+"My dear, I am so glad to see you; Jem told me you were sure to come. Is
+this Miss Lambert? Put those chairs closer, Jem. And so your mother
+could not come. Never mind; I am used to chaperoning young ladies,
+though I never had girls of my own."
+
+Edna answered civilly, but Bessie soon perceived that Mrs. Grant's
+conversation was not exactly to her taste. She spoke in a loud voice,
+and as most of her remarks were about her boy Jem, as she called him,
+his extraordinary cleverness and good luck at polo, and his merits as a
+son and officer, it was extremely desirable that they should not be
+overheard, but Mrs. Grant seemed quite indifferent to the amused looks
+of the ladies round her, and her broad, good-natured face beamed with
+smiles as Jem made a fine stroke and won the goal.
+
+"He rides better than any of the men," she exclaimed proudly. "I'll back
+my boy against any of them. Oh, look, Miss Sefton, Singleton has hit the
+ball away--no, Jem is galloping after him, he means to carry it.
+Yes--no--yes! they are through! Bravo, Jem, bravo!" and Mrs. Grant
+clapped her hands excitedly.
+
+In spite of her uneasiness, it was impossible for Bessie not to become
+first interested and then absorbed in the game, and for a little while
+she forgot all about The Grange. She had never seen polo played before,
+and she was carried away by the excitement of that fascinating but
+perilous game; the mad rush of the horses across the grass, the quick
+strokes of the players, the magnificent riding, and the ease and grace
+with which the officers guided their ponies and leaned over their
+saddles to strike the ball; the breathless moment when young Singleton
+rode alone with all the others pursuing him wildly; no wonder Bessie
+felt enthralled by the novelty of the sight. She uttered a little scream
+once when the horses and riders all crushed together in a sort of
+confused melee.
+
+"Is any one hurt?" she exclaimed in much distress; but Edna and Mrs.
+Grant only laughed.
+
+"You must come with me and have some tea," observed Mrs. Grant, when the
+match was over. "My lodgings are just by."
+
+Edna hesitated for a moment, and Bessie touched her arm.
+
+"It is already five," she whispered. "Do you see those dark clouds? We
+shall have a thunder-shower soon; I think it would be better to start
+for home."
+
+"And be caught in the rain," replied Edna, with a shrug. "And we have no
+umbrellas nor waterproofs. No, Bessie; we must take refuge at Mrs.
+Grant's until the shower is over. Come along; don't make a fuss. I do
+not want to go any more than you do, but it is no use getting wet
+through; we cannot help it if we are late for dinner." And so saying,
+Edna again joined the talkative Mrs. Grant.
+
+Bessie said no more, but all her uneasiness returned as she followed
+Edna. Mrs. Grant had temporary lodgings in the High Street, over a
+linen-draper's shop. She ushered her young guests into a large untidy
+looking room with three windows overlooking the street. One or two of
+the other ladies joined them, and one officer after another soon found
+their way up the steep little staircase, for Mrs. Grant was noted for
+her hospitality. She called Edna to help her at the tea-table, and
+Bessie seated herself by one of the windows. No one took much notice of
+her; her good-natured partner at tennis, Leonard Singleton, was not
+among Mrs. Grant's guests.
+
+Captain Grant brought her some tea, and offered her cake and fruit, but
+he soon left her to devote himself exclusively to Miss Sefton. Bessie
+felt very dull, and out in the cold, and yet she had no wish to join the
+gay group round the tea-table. The room felt close and oppressive; the
+first heavy drops were pattering on the window; two or three children
+were running down the street with a yellow dog barking at their heels.
+
+"You will get wet; shall I close the window?" observed a voice behind
+her, and Bessie started and looked round at the tall, solemn-looking
+young officer who had been introduced to her two hours previously as
+"Captain Broughton, not of ours, Miss Lambert."
+
+"Oh, no, I prefer it open, it is so warm," replied Bessie hastily.
+
+"Oh, ah, yes! Are you fond of polo?"
+
+"I never saw it played until this afternoon; it is very exciting, but I
+am sure it must be dangerous."
+
+"Nothing to speak of; an accident now and then--man half killed last
+Thursday, though."
+
+"Oh, dear, how dreadful!"
+
+The solemn-faced officer relaxed into a smile.
+
+"Well, he might have been killed outright in battle, don't you know;
+accidents will happen now and then; it is just luck, you see, and Owen
+always is such an unlucky beggar."
+
+Bessie refuted this with some vivacity. She explained that though it
+might be a man's duty to die for his country, it was quite another thing
+to imperil a valuable life on a mere game; but she could make no
+impression on the solemn-faced captain.
+
+"But it is an uncommonly good game, don't you know," he persisted; and
+Bessie gave up the point, for Captain Broughton's mind seemed as wooden
+as his face.
+
+"It was no good talking to such a man," she observed to Edna, as they
+drove home; "he said 'Don't you know' at the end of every sentence, and
+seemed so stupid."
+
+"Are you talking about Captain Broughton?" asked Edna calmly. "My dear
+Daisy, it is not always wise to judge by appearances. Captain Broughton
+is not specially amusing in conversation, but he is a brave fellow. Do
+you know, he wears the Victoria Cross for his gallantry in saving a
+wounded soldier; only a private too. Yes; though he was wounded himself,
+he carried him off the field. He was a village lad--one of his own
+tenants--who had followed him out to India, and when another ball struck
+him he just staggered on."
+
+"Oh, dear," groaned Bessie; "this is a punishment to me for judging too
+quickly. To think I had the opportunity for the first time in my life of
+talking to a hero, and that I called him stupid! This is a case of
+entertaining angels unawares. But if one could only know they were
+angels."
+
+Edna only laughed at this; but Bessie found food for uncomfortable
+reflection all the way home. The rain had ceased at last, but not before
+Edna had grown secretly conscious of the lateness of the hour. It was
+nearly seven before the weather allowed them to start, and for the last
+half hour she had stood at the window quite oblivious of Captain Grant's
+entreaties that she would make herself comfortable, and evidently deaf
+to his unmeaning compliments for she answered absently, and with a
+manner that showed that she was ill at ease.
+
+The moment the rain ceased, she asked him peremptorily to order her
+pony-chaise round.
+
+"Mamma will be getting anxious at this long delay," she said, so gravely
+that Captain Grant dare not disobey her.
+
+"You will come over next Saturday and see our match with the Hussars,"
+he pleaded, as she gathered up the reins.
+
+"Perhaps; but I will not promise," she returned, with a nod and a smile.
+"Oh, dear; how tiresome these last two hours have been. You have not
+enjoyed yourself a bit. Bessie. I am so sorry!"
+
+"Oh, never mind." returned Bessie wearily, and then they had both been
+silent. Neither was in the mood to enjoy the delicious freshness of the
+evening; that clear shining after the rain that is so indescribable, the
+wet, gleaming hedges, the little sparkling pools, the vivid green of the
+meadows; for Edna was feeling the reaction after her excitement; and
+Bessie, tired out with conflicting feelings was thinking regretfully of
+her unsatisfactory conversation with Captain Broughton.
+
+"It serves me right, after all," she thought penitently. "Father always
+says that we ought to take trouble to please even the most commonplace,
+uninteresting person, not to let ourselves be bored by anyone, however
+uncongenial they may be, and of course he is right. I was just fidgeting
+about the weather, and how we were to get home, and so I did not try to
+be entertaining." And here Bessie made a mental resolution to be more
+charitable in her estimate of people.
+
+She had no idea that Captain Broughton had said to himself as he left
+her, "Nice little girl, no nonsense about her; not a bad sort, after the
+women one sees; can talk to a man without looking for a compliment; like
+her better than Miss Sefton."
+
+Just as the drive was drawing to a close, Bessie roused up from her
+unwonted depression. They had turned out of the narrow lane, and a wide
+sweep of country lay before them, bathed in the soft tints of the
+setting sun. A mass of golden and crimson clouds made the western
+heavens glorious, the meadows were transfigured in the yellow radiance,
+every hedgerow and bush seemed touched by an unearthly finger, a sense
+of distance, of mystery, of tranquil rest seemed to pervade the world.
+
+"Oh, Edna, how beautiful! If only one were an artist to try and paint
+that."
+
+"Yes; it is a fine evening," remarked Edna carelessly.
+
+"Thank goodness, there is The Grange at last. Yes, there is Richard,
+evidently on the lookout for us. So I suppose they have finished
+dinner."
+
+"Did you think we were lost?" she asked with a little air of defiance,
+as her brother came forward and patted the ponies.
+
+"No," he said gravely; "I told my mother the rain must have detained
+you. It is a pity you went, Edna. Sinclair has been here two hours. He
+came down in the same train with mother."
+
+"Neville here!" And Edna's look changed, and she became rather pale.
+"What has brought him, Richard?"
+
+Richard shrugged his shoulders, and replied that he had not the least
+idea. He supposed it was a whim. It was evident that Edna was not too
+well pleased at the news. A little hardness came into her face, and she
+walked into the house without taking any notice of Bessie.
+
+As Bessie stood hesitating for a moment in the hall, Richard followed
+her. He had not even looked at her, and poor Bessie felt sure that his
+manner expressed disapproval.
+
+"Will you not go into the drawing-room, Miss Lambert?"
+
+"Oh, no. Mr. Sinclair is there, is he not? I would rather go upstairs
+and take off my things. I am very tired." And here Bessie faltered a
+little.
+
+But to her surprise Richard looked at her very kindly.
+
+"Of course you are tired. You had that long ride; but Edna would not
+think of that. Take off your things quickly and come down to the
+dining-room. Dixon will have something ready for you. There is some
+coffee going into the drawing-room. You will like some?"
+
+"Oh, yes, please," returned Bessie, touched by this thoughtfulness for
+her comfort. After all, he could not be angry with her. Perhaps she
+would have time to explain, to ask his opinion, to talk out her
+perplexity. How comfortable that would be! Bessie would not stay to
+change her dress, she only smoothed her hair, and ran down.
+
+Richard was waiting for her, and Dixon had just brought in the coffee.
+When he had gone out of the room she said eagerly:
+
+"Oh, Mr. Sefton, I am so glad to be able to ask you a question. You were
+not vexed with me for going to Staplehurst with your sister?"
+
+"Vexed!" returned Richard, in a tone that set her mind at rest in a
+moment. "You acted exactly as I expected you to act. When mother showed
+me your note I only said, 'I never doubted for a moment what Miss
+Lambert would do; she would go, of course.'"
+
+"Yes; I only hesitated for a moment; but, oh! what a miserable afternoon
+it has been!" And as she touched on the various incidents, including her
+_tete-a-tete_ with Captain Broughton, Richard listened with much
+sympathy.
+
+"I never dreamed for a moment that Edna would go after all, but it was
+just a piece of childish bravado. The foolish girl does not think of
+consequences. It is a most unfortunate thing that Sinclair should turn
+up at this moment; he is a little stiff on these subjects, and I am
+afraid that he is terribly annoyed."
+
+"Did Mrs. Sefton tell him all about it?"
+
+"My mother? No; she would have given worlds to hide it from him. Edna
+told him herself that she was going in her last letter. Oh, you don't
+know Edna," as Bessie looked extremely surprised at this; "her chief
+virtue is truthfulness. She will defy you to your face, and trample on
+all your prejudices, but she will never hide anything."
+
+"And she actually told Mr. Sinclair?"
+
+"Yes she did it to tease him, I believe, because his last letter did not
+please her. Sinclair has to put up with a good deal, I can tell you, but
+he wrote back in a great hurry, begging her not to carry out her plan.
+Sinclair told us both this evening that he could not have written a
+stronger letter. He told her that he had good reasons for wishing her to
+see as little as possible of Captain Grant. And when he came down just
+to give her a pleasant surprise, as he had a leisure evening, it was
+quite a shock to him to find his entreaties had been disregarded, and
+that she had actually gone after all. He is excessively hurt, and no
+wonder, to find Edna has so little respect for his wishes."
+
+"It was a grievous mistake," returned Bessie sorrowfully. "I don't
+believe Edna enjoyed herself one bit."
+
+"No; it was just a freak of temper, and she chose to be self-willed
+about it. I hope she will show herself penitent to Sinclair; she can
+turn him around her little finger if she likes; but sometimes she
+prefers to quarrel with him. I really think Edna enjoys a regular flare
+up," finished Richard, laughing. "She says a good quarrel clears the air
+like a thunder-storm; but I confess that I don't agree with her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+"SHE WILL NOT COME."
+
+
+Bessie did not enter the drawing-room that evening; she felt that her
+presence would be decidedly _de trop_ under the circumstances. She made
+the pretext of fatigue the reason for retiring to her room early, and
+Richard accepted the excuse as though he believed in it.
+
+"Well, I dare say you will be more comfortable," he agreed. "My mother
+will be sure to come up and wish you good-night. Confess now, Miss
+Lambert, are you not wishing yourself at home this evening?"
+
+"No; of course not," replied Bessie briskly. "Have you not promised me
+another ride to-morrow?" But all the same, as she went upstairs, she
+thought a talk with her mother and Hatty would have been very soothing.
+She was sitting by her window, thinking over things in general, when
+there was a tap at her door, and Mrs. Sefton entered.
+
+"Richard told me you were tired and had gone up to bed," she said, more
+kindly than usual. "I am so sorry, my dear, that you have had such an
+uncomfortable afternoon. Edna has been very naughty--very naughty
+indeed; but Richard and I feel very grateful to you for accompanying
+her."
+
+"I thought it was the right thing to do, Mrs. Sefton."
+
+"Yes, of course; there was nothing else to be done; but it was a foolish
+freak on Edna's part." Mrs. Sefton spoke in a worried voice, and her
+face looked tired and harassed. Bessie said as much, and she replied:
+
+"Oh, yes; I am worried enough. I have had a fatiguing day in town, and
+then when Neville and I entered the house, expecting a welcome, there
+was Richard's moody face and your note to greet us. And now, to make
+things worse, Edna chooses to be offended at Neville's coming down in
+this way, and declares he meant to be a spy on her. She won't say a
+civil word to him, and yet it is for him to be displeased; but I think
+he would waive all that if she would only own that she has acted
+ungenerously to him. I must say Neville is behaving beautifully. He
+speaks as gently as possible; but Edna is in one of her tempers, and she
+will not listen to reason."
+
+"I am sorry," replied Bessie, looking so full of sympathy that Mrs.
+Sefton relaxed from her usual cold dignity.
+
+"Oh, my dear," she said, and now there were tears in her eyes, "I am
+afraid it is all my fault. I have indulged Edna too much, and given her
+her own way in everything; and now she tyrannizes over us all. If I had
+only acted differently." And here the poor woman sighed.
+
+Bessie echoed the sigh, but she could think of nothing to say that could
+comfort Mrs. Sefton; she was evidently reaping the effects of her own
+injudicious weakness. She had not taught her child to practice
+self-discipline and self-control. Her waywardness had been fostered by
+indulgence, and her temper had become more faulty. "What man is there of
+you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?" asked the
+Divine Teacher; and yet there are many parents who offer these stony
+gifts to their children, loading them with false kindness and
+indulgence, leaving evil weeds unchecked, and teaching them everything
+but the one thing needful.
+
+"Oh, how different from mother!" thought Bessie, when she was left
+alone, and recalled the time when her young will had been over strong,
+and there had been difficult points in her character, and yet, how
+sensibly and how tenderly her mother had dealt with them.
+
+She had never been blind to one of her children's faults, and up to a
+certain age it had been her habit on the eve of their birthdays, to talk
+quietly to them, pointing out their failings and defective habits, and
+giving her opinion on the year's improvement. "On a birthday one ought
+to begin afresh," she would say, "and make a new start." How well Bessie
+could remember these talks, and the gentle words of praise that
+generally closed them. She was almost sorry when she was too grown up
+for them, and quiet self-examinations took the place of those fond
+maternal admonitions.
+
+When Bessie joined the family at breakfast she found Mr. Sinclair
+helping Edna with the urn. He accosted Bessie with much friendliness,
+and seemed pleased to see her again. She had been prepossessed with him
+at their first meeting, and she thought his manner still pleasanter on
+this second occasion, and she was struck afresh with his air of quiet
+refinement. He took part in the conversation with much animation, and
+talked more to Richard than to any one else.
+
+Edna did not appear to have recovered herself; she took very little
+notice of anybody, and received her _fiance's_ attention rather
+ungraciously. Bessie thought she looked as though she had not slept
+well; her eyes had a heavy look in them, as though her head ached.
+Bessie had her ride directly afterward, and as Richard assisted her to
+mount, Mr. Sinclair stood on the steps and watched them.
+
+"What are you and Edna going to do with yourselves?" asked Richard
+presently.
+
+Mr. Sinclair smiled.
+
+"I shall do whatever Edna likes; perhaps she will drive me somewhere;
+she looks as though the fresh air would do her good. I shall have to go
+back to town this evening, so I must make the most of my day in the
+country."
+
+The house was so still when they returned that Bessie thought they had
+started for the drive, when she ran upstairs to take off her habit. She
+seated herself presently by one of the drawing-room windows with her
+work, wondering what everyone was doing.
+
+Her work interested her, and she was quietly enjoying herself when she
+heard quick footsteps in the hall outside, and a moment afterward a door
+slammed.
+
+"They have come back, I suppose," thought Bessie; and she worked on,
+until the drawing-room door opened and Mr. Sinclair came in alone. He
+seemed surprised to see Bessie, but the next minute he had crossed the
+room hastily.
+
+"Miss Lambert, will you do me a favor? I cannot find Mrs. Sefton, and I
+have no one else to ask."
+
+"Certainly," returned Bessie, and she rose at once.
+
+Mr. Sinclair looked pale and troubled, and his manner was extremely
+nervous.
+
+"Then will you be so good as to beg Edna to come down to me for a
+moment; she has misunderstood--that is, I wish to speak to her--there is
+a slight misconception. Edna has gone to her own room."
+
+"I will go at once," exclaimed Bessie, feeling convinced by his manner
+that something was very wrong. Edna must have quarrelled with him again.
+She ran upstairs and knocked on Edna's door, but received no answer; it
+was not locked, however, and after a moment's hesitation she entered.
+
+Edna had evidently not heard her; she was standing by the window in her
+walking-dress. As Bessie spoke to attract her attention, she turned
+round and frowned angrily; something in her face made Bessie breathless
+with apprehension.
+
+"What do you want?" she asked harshly.
+
+"Mr. Sinclair sent me," pleaded Bessie; "he is very anxious to speak to
+you; he begs that you will come downstairs. He thinks that there is some
+mistake."
+
+"No, there is no mistake," replied Edna slowly; "you may tell him so for
+me."
+
+"Why not tell him yourself, Edna?"
+
+"Because I have had enough of Mr. Sinclair's company this morning.
+Because nothing would induce me to speak to him again. I thought I had
+locked my door to prevent intrusion; but I suppose I forgot. Please give
+him my message that there is no mistake--oh, none at all."
+
+Bessie hesitated, but another look at Edna's face showed her that any
+entreaty at this moment would be in vain, so she went out of the room
+without another word.
+
+Mr. Sinclair was standing just where she had left him; he looked at her
+anxiously. Bessie shook her head.
+
+"She will not come," she said sorrowfully.
+
+"Will not? Did she give no reason--send no message?"
+
+"Only that there was no mistake; she repeated that more than once.
+Perhaps she will change her mind in a little while."
+
+But Mr. Sinclair did not seem to hear her.
+
+"No mistake! Then she meant it--she meant it!" he muttered, and his face
+became quite changed. He had walked to the window, but he came back
+again.
+
+"Thank you, Miss Lambert. I am very much obliged to you," he said, as
+though feeling he had been deficient in politeness; but before she could
+reply he had left the room.
+
+The gong sounded for luncheon directly afterward, but Bessie found the
+dining-room empty, so she sat down to her work again, and bye and bye
+Dixon brought her a message that his mistress was waiting. Mrs. Sefton
+was in the room alone; she motioned Bessie to a seat, and began to carve
+the chicken before her. No one else made their appearance; but Mrs.
+Sefton did not apologize for their absence. She scarcely eat anything
+herself, and made no attempt to sustain the conversation. She looked
+preoccupied and troubled, and as soon as the meal was over she begged
+Bessie to amuse herself, as she had some important business to settle,
+and left the room.
+
+Bessie passed a solitary afternoon; but though her book was interesting
+her attention often wandered. She was sure something was seriously
+wrong, and she felt vaguely unhappy on Edna's account. She could not
+forget Mr. Sinclair's face when she had brought him that message. It was
+as though he had received a blow that he scarcely knew how to bear.
+
+Dixon brought her some tea, and told her that his mistress and Miss Edna
+were having theirs in the dressing-room. Later on, as she went indoors
+to prepare for dinner, she encountered Richard; he had just driven up to
+the door in his dog-cart, and Brand and Gelert were with him.
+
+"Where is Mr. Sinclair?" she ventured to ask, as he smiled at seeing
+her.
+
+"He has gone," he replied. "I have just driven him to the station. Do
+you know where my mother is to be found?"
+
+"I have not seen her since luncheon," answered Bessie. "I think she is
+with Edna."
+
+"Very likely. I will go and see." And Richard sprung up the staircase
+three steps at a time. Bessie thought he looked tired and worried, too;
+and to add to the general oppression, a storm seemed gathering, for the
+air felt unusually still and sultry.
+
+Edna did not join them at dinner, and the meal was hardly more festive
+than the luncheon had been. Mrs. Sefton hardly opened her lips, and
+Richard only made a few general remarks.
+
+Bessie expected that her evening would be as solitary as her afternoon,
+but, rather to her surprise, Mrs. Sefton beckoned her to sit down beside
+her.
+
+"My dear," she said, "you are feeling very uncomfortable, I can see, and
+you do not like to ask questions; you think something is the matter, and
+you are right. Edna is making us all very unhappy. She has quarrelled
+with Neville, and has broken off her engagement with him, and nothing
+that Richard or I can say to her will induce her to listen to reason."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Sefton, how dreadful!"
+
+"Yes, is it not heart-breaking? Poor Neville! and he is so devoted to
+her. They were to have been married next spring, but now Edna declares
+that nothing would induce her to marry him. She will have it that he is
+jealous and monopolizing, and that he distrusts her. Over and over again
+she told us both that she would be the slave of no man's caprice. Of
+course it is all her temper; she is just mad with him because he is
+always in the right, and she knows how ungenerously she has acted; but
+bye and bye she will repent, and break her heart, for she is certainly
+fond of him, and then it will be too late."
+
+"And she has really sent him away?"
+
+"Yes; she told him to go, that she never wanted to see him again; and he
+has gone, poor fellow! Richard drove him to the station. He says he
+never saw a man so terribly cut up, but he told Richard, just at the
+last, that perhaps it might prove the best for them in the end, that
+they were not suited to each other, and never had been, but that Edna
+had never shown him her temper quite so plainly before."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Sefton, how terrible it all seems! Can nothing be done?"
+
+"Nothing," in a voice of despair. "Richard and I have talked to her for
+hours, but it is no use. She declares that it is a good thing she and
+Neville at last understand each other, that she will never repent her
+decision, and yet all the time she looks utterly wretched. But she will
+not own it; it is just her pride and her temper," finished the unhappy
+mother, "and I must stand by and see her sacrifice her own happiness,
+and say nothing."
+
+"May I go up to her, Mrs. Sefton? Do you think she would care to see
+me?"
+
+"I think she will see you now, and it is not good for her to be alone;
+but you will find her very hard and impracticable."
+
+"I shall not mind that, if she will only let me be with her a little;
+but I cannot bear to think of her shut up with only miserable thoughts
+to keep her company;" and here Bessie's eyes filled with tears, for she
+was very sympathetic and soft-hearted.
+
+"Then go to her, my dear, and I hope you may do her some good." And
+Bessie went at once.
+
+Just outside the door she met Richard; he was on his way to the
+drawing-room.
+
+"I am going up to Edna," she said, as he looked at her inquiringly. "Oh,
+Mr. Sefton, I am so sorry for her! She is making herself and every one
+else miserable."
+
+"I am more sorry for Sinclair," he returned, and his face looked very
+stern as he spoke. "She has treated him abominably. Wait a moment, Miss
+Lambert," as she seemed about to leave him; "there is no hurry, is
+there? and I have not spoken to you to-day. Do you think you are wise to
+mix yourself up in this? My mother is thinking more of Edna than of you,
+but you will do no good, and only make yourself miserable. Leave Edna
+alone to-night, and come and play to me instead."
+
+"Mr. Sefton, I never thought you could be so selfish."
+
+He laughed outright as Bessie said this very seriously.
+
+"Never trust any man; we are all of us selfish. But to tell you the
+truth, I was not thinking of my own enjoyment at that minute. I wanted
+to save you an hour's unpleasantness, but I see you prefer to make
+yourself miserable."
+
+"I think I do in the present instance," returned Bessie quietly.
+
+"Very well, have your own way; but if you take my advice, you will not
+waste your pity upon Edna. She is flinging away her happiness with her
+eyes open, just to gratify her temper. You see I can speak plainly, Miss
+Lambert, and call things by their right names. Just out of pride and
+self-will, she is bidding good-bye to one of the best fellows living,
+and all the time she knows that he is a good fellow. She won't find
+another Neville Sinclair, I tell her."
+
+"No; and it is just because she is doing it herself that I am sorry for
+her," replied Bessie. "Please don't keep me, Mr. Sefton; you do not
+understand--how can you? If he had died, if anything else had separated
+them, it would be so much easier to bear, but to do it herself, and then
+to be so sorry for it afterward--oh, how miserable that must be!" and
+Bessie's voice became a little unsteady as she hastily bade him good
+night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+A NOTE FROM HATTY.
+
+
+Bessie knew that she would find Edna in her mother's dressing room--a
+large, comfortable room, much used by both mother and daughter when they
+were tired or indisposed. Mrs. Sefton generally used it as a
+morning-room, and it was fitted up somewhat luxuriously.
+
+Bessie found Edna lying on a couch in her white tea-gown, with a novel
+in her hand. The pink shade of the lamp threw a rosy glow over
+everything, and at first sight Bessie thought she looked much as usual;
+her first words, too, were said in her ordinary tone.
+
+"So you have found your way up at last," she exclaimed, throwing down
+her book with an air of disgust and weariness; "my head ached this
+afternoon, and so mamma thought I had better stay here quietly."
+
+"Is your head better now?"
+
+"Yes, thanks; only this book is so stupid. I think novels are stupid
+nowadays; the heroes are so gaudy, and the heroines have not a spark of
+spirit. You may talk to me instead, if you like. What have you been
+doing with yourself all day?"
+
+Bessie was dumb with amazement. Was this pride or was Edna acting a
+part, and pretending not to care? She could break her lover's heart one
+minute and talk of novels the next. Bessie's simplicity was at fault;
+she could make nothing of this.
+
+"Why are you looking at me in that way?" asked Edna fretfully, on
+receiving no answer; and as she raised herself on the cushions, Bessie
+could see her face more plainly. It looked very pale, and her eyes were
+painfully bright, and then she gave a hard little laugh that had no
+mirth in it. "So mamma or Richard has been talking to you! What a
+transparent little creature you are, Bessie! You are dreadfully shocked,
+are you not, that I have sent Neville about his business?"
+
+"Oh, Edna, please don't talk about it in that way."
+
+"If I talk about it at all it must be in my own way. If Neville thought
+I could not live without him, he finds himself mistaken now. I am not
+the sort of girl who could put up with tyranny; other people may submit
+to be ordered about and treated like a child, but I am not one of them."
+
+"Edna, surely you consider that you owe a duty to the man you have
+promised to marry."
+
+"I owe him none--I will never owe him any duty." And here Edna's manner
+became excited. "It is mamma I ought to obey, and I will not always
+yield to her; but I have never given Neville the right to lecture and
+control me; no man shall--no man!" angrily.
+
+"Edna, how can you bear to part with Mr. Sinclair, when he is so good
+and loves you so much?"
+
+"I can bear it very well. I can do without him," she replied
+obstinately; "at least I have regained my liberty, and become my own
+mistress."
+
+"Will that console you for making him miserable? Oh, Edna, if you had
+only seen his face when I gave him your message, I am sure you must have
+relented. He has gone away unhappy, and you let him go."
+
+"Yes, I let him go. How dare he come down here to spy on my movements?
+Captain Grant, indeed! But it is all of a piece; his jealously is
+unbearable. I will no longer put up with it. Why do you talk about it,
+Bessie? You do not know Mr. Neville--Mr. Sinclair, I mean. He is a
+stranger to you; he has given me plenty to bear during our engagement.
+He has a difficult nature, it does not suit mine; I must be treated
+wholly or not at all."
+
+"Will you not let your mother explain this to him and send for him to
+come back?" But Edna drew herself up so haughtily that Bessie did not
+proceed.
+
+"I will never call him back, if I wanted him ever so; but I am not
+likely to want him, he has made me too miserable. No one shall speak to
+him; it is my affair, and no one has any right to meddle. Mamma takes
+his part, and Richard, too. Every one is against me, but they cannot
+influence me," finished Edna proudly.
+
+"Mrs. Sefton was right; I can do no good," thought Bessie sorrowfully;
+"it seems as though some demon of pride has taken possession of the
+girl. Mr. Sinclair is nothing to her to-night; she is only conscious of
+her own proud, injured feelings." And Bessie showed her wisdom by
+ceasing to argue the point; she let Edna talk on without checking her,
+until she had exhausted herself, and then she rose and bade her good
+night.
+
+Edna seemed taken aback.
+
+"You are going to leave me, Bessie?"
+
+"Yes, it is very late; and your mother will be coming up directly. I can
+do you no good; no one could to-night. I shall go and pray for you
+instead."
+
+"You will pray for me! May I ask why?"
+
+"I will not even tell you that to-night; it would be no use, the evil
+spirits will not let you listen, Edna; they have stopped your ears too;
+to-night you are in their power, you have placed yourself at their
+mercy; no one can help you except One, and you will not even ask Him."
+
+"You are very incomprehensible, Bessie."
+
+"Yes, I dare say I seem so, but perhaps one day you may understand
+better. You want us not to think you unhappy, and you are utterly
+miserable. I never could pretend things, even when I was a child. I
+must say everything out. I think you are unhappy now, and that you will
+be more unhappy to-morrow; and when you begin to realize your
+unhappiness, you will begin to look for a remedy. Good-night, dear Edna.
+Don't be angry at my plain speaking, for I really want to do you good."
+
+Edna made no answer, and yielded her cheek coldly to Bessie's kiss. If
+something wet touched her face she took no apparent notice, but Bessie
+could not restrain her tears as she left the room.
+
+"Oh, why, why were people so mad and wicked? How could any one calling
+herself by the sacred name of Christian suffer herself to be
+overmastered by these bitter and angry passions? It is just temper; Mrs.
+Sefton is right," thought Bessie; and her mind was so oppressed by the
+thought of Edna's wretchedness that it was long before she could compose
+herself to sleep.
+
+But she rose at her usual early hour, and wrote out of the fullness of
+her heart to her mother, not mentioning any facts, but relieving her
+overwrought feelings by loving words that were very sweet to her mother.
+
+"I think it is good to go away sometimes from one's belongings," wrote
+Bessie; "absence makes one realize one's blessings more. I don't think I
+ever felt more thankful that I had such a mother than last night, when
+Edna was talking in a way that troubled me."
+
+When Bessie went downstairs after finishing her letter, she was much
+surprised to see Edna in her usual place pouring out the coffee. She
+looked a little pale and heavy-eyed; but no one could have detected from
+her manner that there was anything much amiss. A slight restlessness,
+however, an eagerness for occupation and amusement, and a shade of
+impatience when any one opposed her, spoke of inward irritability. Now
+and then, too, there was a sharpness in her voice that betrayed nervous
+tension; but none dared to express sympathy by look or word. Once when
+she announced her intention of joining Bessie and Richard in their ride,
+and her mother asked her if she were not too tired, she turned on her
+almost fiercely.
+
+"I tired, mamma! What an absurd idea; as though riding ever tired me! I
+am not an old woman yet. Bessie," turning to her, "the Athertons are
+coming this afternoon, and I have written to the Powers to join them. We
+must have a good practice, because we have to go to the Badderleys'
+to-morrow, and Major Sullivan will be my partner; he is our best player,
+and we have Captain Grant and Mrs. Matchett against us."
+
+It was so in everything. Edna seemed bent all that day on tiring herself
+out. She rode at a pace that morning that left the others far behind,
+but Richard took no notice; he continued his conversation with Bessie,
+and left Edna to her own devices.
+
+In the afternoon she played tennis in the same reckless fashion; once
+Bessie saw her turn very pale, and put her hand to her side, but the
+next minute she was playing again.
+
+"What spirits Edna is in!" Florence said once. "Really I do not know
+what we shall all do next spring when she gets married, for she is the
+life and soul of everything;" for none of the girls had noticed that the
+diamond ring was missing on Edna's finger; some brilliant emerald and
+ruby rings had replaced it.
+
+Edna continued in this unsatisfactory state for weeks and not once did
+she open her lips, even to her mother, on the subject of her broken
+engagement. Every morning she made her plans for the day. It seemed to
+Bessie as though air and movement were absolutely necessary to her. When
+the morning ride was over she would arrange to drive her mother or
+Bessie to some given place, and the intervening hours were always spent
+in tennis or archery. When the evening came she would often lie on the
+drawing-room couch in a state of exhaustion, until she compelled herself
+to some exertion.
+
+"Oh, how stupid every one is!" she would say, jumping up in a quick,
+restless manner. "Ritchie, why don't you think of something amusing to
+do? Bessie, I hate those dreamy old ballads; do come and play some game.
+Mamma," she exclaimed, one evening, "we must have a regular picnic for
+Bessie; she has never been at a large one in her life. We will go to
+Ardley, and Florence shall take her violin, and Dr. Merton his cornet,
+and we will have a dance on the turf; it will be delightful."
+
+Well, to please her, they talked of the picnic, and Richard
+good-naturedly promised to hire a wagonette for the occasion, but she
+had forgotten all about it the next day, and there was to be an archery
+meeting in the long meadow instead.
+
+"Bessie, she is killing herself," exclaimed Mrs. Sefton, for in those
+days she found Bessie a great comfort. "Do you see how thin she is
+getting? And she eats next to nothing; she is losing her strength, and
+all that exercise is too much for her. The weather is too hot for those
+morning rides. I must speak to Richard."
+
+"She does not really enjoy them," replied Bessie; "but I think she feels
+better when she is in the air, and then it is something to do. Mrs.
+Sefton, I want to speak to you about something else. I have been here
+nearly a month, and it is time for me to go home."
+
+"You are not thinking of leaving us," interrupted Mrs. Sefton, in
+genuine alarm. "I cannot spare you, Bessie; I must write to your father.
+What would Edna do without you? My dear, I cannot let you go."
+
+"Hatty is not well," observed Bessie anxiously. "She always flags in the
+warm weather. I don't believe Cliffe really suits her; but father never
+likes to send her away. Christine wrote to me yesterday, and she said
+Hatty had had one of her old fainting fits, and had been very weak ever
+since. I cannot be happy in leaving her any longer, though they say
+nothing about my coming home."
+
+"But she has your mother and Christine. You are not really wanted,"
+urged Mrs. Sefton rather selfishly, for she was thinking of her own and
+Edna's loss, and not of Bessie's anxiety.
+
+"Hatty always wants me," returned Bessie firmly. "I think I am more to
+her than any one else, except mother. I have written to father this
+morning to ask what I had better do. I told him that I had had a long
+holiday, and that I was ready to come home at once if Hatty wanted me."
+
+"Oh, very well, if you have made your plans," returned Mrs. Sefton, in
+rather a chilling manner; but Bessie would not let her proceed.
+
+"Dear Mrs. Sefton," she said, much distressed at her obvious
+displeasure, "you must not think that I leave you willingly. I have been
+so happy here; it has been such a real holiday that I am afraid I am not
+a bit anxious to go home, but if father thinks it is my duty----"
+
+"Your father is a sensible man. I don't believe he will recall you,
+anyhow. I will write to him myself, and tell him how anxious we are to
+keep you. That will do no harm, eh, Bessie?"
+
+"No," hesitated the girl; "I dare say he will only think you are all too
+kind to me." She did not like to offend her hostess by begging her not
+to write. Her father knew her well enough; he would not misunderstand
+her. He knew her love for Hatty would never let pleasure stand in the
+way if she required her. "All the enjoyments in the world would not keep
+me from Hatty if she really needed me, and father knows that; we are
+both quite safe with him."
+
+Bessie was perfectly comfortable in her own mind; she was sure of her
+own motives, and she had implicit faith in her father; but she would not
+have been quite so easy if she had known that Mrs. Sefton intended to
+send a little note to Hatty as well. It was only a kindly worded note,
+full of sympathy for Hatty's little ailments, such as any friendly
+stranger might write; but the closing sentence was terribly damaging to
+Bessie's plans.
+
+    "Please do not let your father recall Bessie unless it be
+    absolutely necessary. We are all so fond of her, and my poor
+    girl, who is in sad trouble just now, is dependent on her for
+    companionship. Bessie is so happy, too, that it would be cruel
+    to take her away. She is becoming a first-rate horsewoman under
+    my son's tuition, and is very much liked by all our friends;
+    indeed, every one makes much of her. If you can spare her a
+    little longer, I shall be truly grateful, my dear Miss Lambert,
+    for my poor child's sake."
+
+And then followed a few kindly expressions of goodwill and sympathy.
+
+Bessie was rather surprised to receive a letter from Christine the
+following morning, with a little penciled note from Hatty inside.
+
+"Father was too busy to write," Christine said. "He had a very anxious
+case on hand, but he hoped Hatty was rather better that day, and he
+thought they could do without Bessie a little longer, as her friends
+seemed to need her so much. He was sorry to hear Miss Sefton had broken
+off her engagement; it was a very serious thing for any young lady to
+do, and he hoped none of his girls would act so dishonorably to any
+man."
+
+Hatty's note was short and much underlined.
+
+    "DARLING BESSIE: You are not to come home on my account. Chrissy
+    is very nice, and does everything for me, and I won't have your
+    pleasure spoiled, and Miss Sefton's too, poor thing, just
+    because I was stupid enough to faint. It is only the hot
+    weather--oh, it is so hot and glaring here! Chrissy and I cannot
+    imagine how you can ride and play tennis in such heat; but
+    perhaps it is cooler in the country. Now, remember, I mean what
+    I say, and that I don't want you one bit. At least that is a fib
+    in one way, because I always want my Betty; but I am quite happy
+    to think you are enjoying yourself, and cheering up that poor
+    girl--she must be very miserable. Write to me soon again. I do
+    love your letters. I always keep them under my pillow and read
+    them in the morning. Good-bye, darling; you are my own Betty,
+    you know.
+
+        "Your loving little
+            "HATTY."
+
+"I suppose I must stop a week or ten days longer," thought Bessie,
+laying down her letters with rather a dissatisfied feeling. "I wish
+father could have written, himself, but I dare say he will in a day or
+two. I will try not to fidget. I will wait a little, and then write to
+mother and tell her how I feel about things. When she understands how
+difficult it is for me to get away without giving offense, she will be
+sure to help me, and six weeks are enough to satisfy Mrs. Sefton."
+
+Bessie spoke of her letters at luncheon-time. Edna heard her with
+languid attention, but Mrs. Sefton was triumphant.
+
+"I knew they could spare you, Bessie," she said, with a look of
+amusement that made Bessie feel a little small.
+
+Richard glanced at her without speaking, and then busied himself in his
+carving. But that evening, as Bessie was pausing in the hall to look out
+at the dark clouds that were scurrying across the sky, she found Richard
+at her elbow.
+
+"There is going to be a storm," he said quietly. "I have been expecting
+it all day. Edna is always nervous; she hates the thunder. What was that
+my mother was saying at luncheon, Miss Lambert? Surely you do not
+intend leaving us?"
+
+"Not just yet--not for another week," returned Bessie, much surprised by
+the gravity of his manner. "They will want me at home after that."
+
+"They will not want you as much as some of us do here," he returned,
+with much feeling. "Miss Lambert, do not go unless you are obliged. My
+sister needs you, and so--" He broke off abruptly, colored, and finally
+wished her good-night.
+
+"I wonder why he did not finish his sentence?" thought Bessie
+innocently, as she went up to her room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+"TROUBLE MAY COME TO ME ONE DAY."
+
+
+Bessie had hardly fallen asleep before the storm broke. A peal of
+thunder crashing over the house woke her; the next minute a flash of
+lightning seemed to fill her room with white light.
+
+"What a terrific clap! It must have woke Edna," she thought; and just as
+she was summoning up resolution to cross the dark passage in search of
+her, there was a hasty tap at the door, and Edna entered, fully dressed,
+and with a candle in her hand.
+
+"Edna! what does this mean? You have not been to bed at all?" exclaimed
+Bessie, regarding her friend with dismay. Edna's pale, disordered looks
+excited her alarm.
+
+"No," she returned, in a tone of forced composure, as she put down the
+candle with a shaking hand; "I was too nervous to sleep. I knew the
+storm was coming, and I sat up and waited for it; but I could not stop
+by myself any longer. Did I wake you, Bessie?"
+
+"The thunder woke me, and I thought of you. I am not a bit frightened;
+but one cannot sleep in such a noise. Hark at the rain; a perfect
+deluge! Come and lie down beside me, Edna, dear. You look quite wan and
+exhausted.
+
+"I have been thinking myself stupid, but I am still too restless to lie
+down. I feel as though I never want to sleep again, and yet I am so
+tired. Ah, you don't know the feeling! One seems on wires, and all sorts
+of horrid, troublesome thoughts keep surging through one's brain, and
+there seems no rest, no peace anywhere." And she shivered, and hid her
+face on the pillow as another peal broke over the house.
+
+Bessie did not speak for a minute, and then she said very tenderly:
+
+"Edna, dear, I know all about it. I am quite sure that you are
+miserable; I have known it all the time. Pride does not help you a bit
+now; in your heart you are sorrowful and repentant. You would give all
+you have in the world to bring him back again."
+
+But Edna silenced her. "Don't, Bessie, you are torturing me. I cannot
+bear sympathy; it seems to madden me somehow. I want people to think I
+don't care--that it is all nothing to me."
+
+"Ah, but you do care, Edna."
+
+"Yes, I know I do," in a despairing voice. "I will own, if you like,
+that I am very miserable, but you must not take advantage of me. I am
+weak to-night, and I seem to have no strength to brave it out. Don't be
+hard upon me, Bessie; you have never been in trouble yourself. You
+cannot put yourself in my place."
+
+A great pity rose in Bessie's heart as she listened to Edna's sad voice.
+"No," she said gently, "I have never known real trouble, thank God,
+except when Frank died. Mine has been a very happy life; but trouble may
+come to me one day."
+
+"Yes, but not through your own fault," replied Edna, in the same dreary
+hopeless voice. "There is no trouble so hard to bear as that. To think
+that I might have been so happy, and that my own temper has spoiled it
+all. Let me tell you all about it, Bessie; it will be a relief, even
+though you cannot help me, for to-night the misery is more than I can
+bear." And here she hid her face in her hands, and gave vent to a few
+choking sobs.
+
+Bessie only answered by a quiet caress or two, and after a few moments
+Edna recovered herself.
+
+"I was unreasonably angry with Neville that day, but I never guessed
+that my passion would overmaster me to that extent. Oh, Bessie! why, why
+was I never taught to control my temper? Why was my mother so cruelly
+kind to me? If I had been brought up differently--but no, I will only
+reproach myself. If Neville had been more masterful--if he had shown
+more spirit; but there again I am ungenerous, for nothing could exceed
+his gentleness; but it only exasperated me. I was bent on quarrelling
+with him, and I fully succeeded; and I worked myself up to such a pitch
+that I almost hated the sight of him. I wanted to be free--I would be
+free; and I told him so. I was still in the same mind when you brought
+me that message, but, all the same, something seemed to whisper to me
+that I should live to repent that day's work; but I would not listen to
+this inward prompting--I would be firm. Bessie, I verily believe some
+evil spirit dominated me--I felt so cold, so inexorable, so determined
+on my own undoing. For one moment I quailed, and that was when I saw
+Neville drive away from the house. I saw his face, and it looked so pale
+and sad. Something within me said, 'Call him back, and he will come even
+now;' but I was too proud to give the sign. I wanted to do it, but my
+demon would not suffer me, and in a moment he was gone. Oh, Bessie, how
+I suffered that night and the night after! But my pride was strong. I
+would not let people see how unhappy I was. But I want him back now.
+There is no one in the world like Neville--so gentle, and brave, and
+good; but I have lost him, and I deserve to lose him, for I was never
+worthy of his love." And here Edna broke into bitter weeping, and for a
+little while there was no comforting her.
+
+"Oh, how selfish I am!" she exclaimed at last, starting up. "I have only
+made you miserable; and, after all, no one can do me any good. Don't
+look at me so reproachfully, Bessie; you are very dear and good to me,
+but you cannot put yourself in my place."
+
+"You are wrong," returned Bessie quickly. "Though I have never been
+through your experiences, I can still sympathize with you. If I were in
+your position, Edna, I would not speak as you are doing now, as though
+there were no hope for you, as though everything were only black and
+miserable. The Lord Jesus is always able and willing to help all who
+penitently and trustfully look to Him for pardon. There are no depths of
+human suffering deep enough to hide us from His tender sympathy and
+forgiving love."
+
+"Oh, but I am not religious, Bessie. I am not good, like you."
+
+"Please don't talk so, Edna; it only pains me to hear you. Let me tell
+you how I think I should try to feel in your place. I would try to bear
+my trouble bravely, knowing that it had come through my own fault. If we
+do wrong, we must surely take our punishment. Oh, I know it is easy to
+talk, but all the same this is how I would strive to carry my burden."
+
+"Ah, but such a burden would crush any girl."
+
+"You must not let it crush you, Edna. You must not let it lead you to
+despair. However heavy the burden, and however much we deserve the
+suffering which our follies and mistakes and sins bring, there is one
+all-sufficient way of deliverance. Jesus, by His death on the cross, has
+made it possible for us to be freely forgiven; and if we come to Him in
+faith and prayer, the Holy Spirit will lead us into the full experience
+of salvation and peace. Your will is very strong; why do you not will
+this one thing--to become worthy of the love of a true man like Mr.
+Sinclair? I do not say that things will be the same between you; I know
+too little about the world to guess how a man acts under such
+circumstances; but if you care for him really--if indeed he stands so
+high in your estimation as a good man whom you have misunderstood and
+wronged, then, even if you lead your lives apart, you may still try to
+live nobly that he may think of you with respect. You may still let the
+influence of this trial guide you to a higher and better life. Would not
+this make things more bearable?"
+
+Bessie's words, spoken with intense earnestness, seemed to stir Edna's
+mind, rousing it from its bitter apathy of hopeless remorse and grief; a
+faint light came into her eyes.
+
+"Do you think I could grow better--that Neville would ever hear of me?
+Oh, I should like to try. I do so hate myself, Bessie. I seem to grow
+more selfish and horrid every year. I thought Neville would help me to
+be good, but without him----" And here the tears came again.
+
+"Without him it will be doubly hard. Yes, I know that, Edna dear; but
+you must lean on a stronger arm than his--an arm that will never fail
+you. Cast all your burden upon the loving sympathy and tender heart of
+the Lord Jesus, and He will lead and comfort you. Now you are utterly
+exhausted, and the storm is quite lulled; do go back to your room; you
+will be able to sleep, and it is nearly three o'clock."
+
+"And I have kept you awake all this time," remorsefully. "Well, I will
+go; the pain is a little easier to bear now. I will think over your
+words; they seem to have a sort of comfort in them. Yes, I deserve to be
+unhappy for making Neville so wretched. Good-bye, dear Bessie; you are a
+real friend to me, for you tell me nothing but the truth."
+
+Bessie kissed her affectionately, and then Edna left the room; but
+Bessie found it difficult to resume her interrupted dreams; the splash
+of the raindrops against her windows had a depressing sound, the
+darkness was dense and oppressive, a vague sadness seemed to brood over
+everything, and it was long before she could quiet herself enough to
+sleep. Strangely enough, her last waking thoughts were of Hatty, not of
+Edna, and she was dreaming about her when the maid came to wake her in
+the morning.
+
+Edna did not come down to breakfast; the storm had disturbed her, Mrs.
+Sefton said. "I think it must have kept you awake, too," she observed,
+with a glance at Bessie's tired face.
+
+Bessie smiled and said a word or two about the wild night, but she did
+not speak of Edna's visit to her room. Afterward she went up to prepare
+for her ride, but during the next hour Richard noticed she was not in
+her usual spirits, and questioned her kindly as to the cause of her
+depression. Bessie made some trifling excuse; she had slept badly, and
+her head ached; but in reality she could find no reason for her vague
+discomfort.
+
+The morning was fresh and lovely, and bore no signs of last night's
+storm. Whitefoot was in frisky spirits, but she found herself looking at
+everything with melancholy eyes, as though she were looking her last at
+the pleasant prospect. In vain she strove to shake off the uncanny
+feeling, and to answer Richard's remarks in her usual sprightly fashion.
+The very effort to speak brought the tears to her eyes, and she had the
+vexed feeling that Richard saw them and thought something was amiss, for
+he told her very kindly to be sure and rest herself that afternoon.
+
+Edna was in the front garden when they returned; she was standing at the
+gate evidently watching for them. Bessie thought she looked very pale.
+As Richard lifted her down Edna opened the gate.
+
+"You have had a longer ride than usual, have you not, Richard? Bessie
+looks very tired. Will you take off your habit, or will you go into the
+drawing-room? Your brother has just arrived, Bessie."
+
+"My brother? Do you mean Tom? Oh, what does he want with me? Hatty must
+be worse." And here Bessie's numb, unaccountable feelings quickened into
+life. "Oh, Edna, speak--what is it?" And then Bessie grew pale with
+apprehension.
+
+"Hatty is not very well," replied Edna gently; "but Mr. Tom will tell
+you himself."
+
+"Yes, go to him," whispered Richard; "your brother will be your best
+informant; don't wait to ask Edna."
+
+And Bessie needed no further bidding. Oh, she knew now what that vague
+presentiment meant! That was her last ride--her last everything, she
+told herself, as she hurried into the house. Of course, Hatty was ill,
+very ill--dying perhaps--she always knew she would die. Tom's boyish
+face looked unusually grave as he caught sight of Bessie. She walked up
+to him and grasped his arm.
+
+"What is it, Tom?" she said almost clinging to him.
+
+Poor Tom was hardly equal to the occasion. He was young, and hated
+scenes, and Mrs. Sefton was looking at them both, and he felt uncommonly
+choky himself; but Edna, who had followed Bessie, said promptly:
+
+"Don't be afraid of telling Bessie, Mr. Lambert; she knows that Hatty is
+not so well. You have come to fetch her--have you not?--because Hatty
+had another bad fainting fit, and your father thinks her very ill."
+
+"That is about it," blurted out Tom. "Can you get ready and come back
+with me, Bessie? Hatty asked for you last night for the first time, and
+then father said I had better come and fetch you; so I took the last
+train to London, and slept at Uncle George's, and came on this morning."
+
+"And Hatty is very ill?" asked Bessie, with a sort of desperate calmness
+that appeared very ominous to Tom, for he answered nervously:
+
+"Well, she is pretty bad. Father says it is a sudden failure. It is her
+heart; and he says he always expected it. He never did think well of
+Hatty, only he would not tell us so--what was the use? he said. But now
+these fainting attacks have made him anxious, for he says one can never
+tell what may happen; and then he said you must be fetched at once."
+
+"I suppose we can start by the next train, Tom?"
+
+"Yes, by the 3:15; there is none before that. We must catch the 6:05
+from Paddington, so you will have time to look about you."
+
+"Let me help you," exclaimed Edna eagerly. "Mamma, will you send Brandon
+to us?" And she followed Bessie.
+
+Richard came into the room that moment, and took possession of Tom,
+carrying him off to the garden and stable-yard, and trying to make the
+time pass in a less irksome manner. Richard could show his sympathy for
+Bessie in no other way than this, and he felt sorry for Tom, who was
+feeling awkward among so many strangers, and was trying to repress his
+feelings, after the fashion of young men.
+
+"I am afraid your sister is very much cut up about this," observed
+Richard presently.
+
+"Oh, yes, she will take it uncommonly badly; she and Hatty are such
+chums."
+
+"Yes, but I trust that your sister is not dangerously ill?"
+
+"Well, she does not seem so to me," replied Tom vaguely. "She is weak,
+of course; any one would be weak after such an attack; but she looks and
+talks much as usual, only she is too tired to get up."
+
+"And it is her heart, you say?"
+
+"Well, my father says so. You see, she has always been weakly, but there
+never seemed much amiss to us; and now my father says that he never
+expects her to make an old woman, and that there is something wrong with
+her heart, and he is afraid that she may go off in one of these attacks,
+and that is why he wants Bessie to come home at once."
+
+"Yes, I see; it looks very serious. Oh, there is the luncheon-bell. I
+have ordered the carriage round directly afterward, so you will be in
+plenty of time."
+
+When the two young men returned to the house they found Bessie in the
+dining-room. She took her old place by Richard, and made some pretense
+of eating. Once, when Richard spoke to her, begging her to remember the
+long journey before her, she looked up at him with a faint smile; that
+smile, so gentle and childlike, haunted Richard during the remainder of
+the day.
+
+Bessie was battling bravely with her feelings all luncheon, and during
+the short interval that elapsed before the carriage was brought round
+she managed to say a few words to Mrs. Sefton, thanking her for all her
+kindness, and just before she left the house she found an opportunity to
+speak to Edna.
+
+"Edna," she whispered, holding her friend's hand, "you will not forget
+our talk. I shall be thinking of you even when I am with Hatty." And
+then for the moment she could say no more.
+
+"Will you come, Miss Lambert?" urged Richard gently. He had followed the
+girls, and had overheard this little speech; but Bessie did not heed
+him.
+
+"Will you try to be brave, Edna?" But her voice was almost inaudible.
+
+"Go with Richard, Bessie, darling; he is waiting for you." And then
+Bessie got into the carriage.
+
+She looked back and waved her hand as they drove away, but this time
+there was no smile on her face. Edna was standing on the porch, and the
+afternoon sun was shining on her face and hair and white dress, and her
+large wistful eyes were full of sadness. Bessie's lip quivered, her
+heart ached. How beautiful it all was! The world seemed glorified in
+sunshine; every one they met seemed happy, and yet Edna was wretched,
+and Hatty ill--perhaps dying; and a great black cloud seemed to
+overshadow everything, a sense of terror and confusion, of utter chaos.
+"In the midst of life we are in death." Why did those words come to
+Bessie? Just before the train moved Richard broke the silence.
+
+"You will let us hear how things are, Miss Lambert?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I will write to Edna."
+
+"And you will take care of yourself?"
+
+"Yes, thank you."
+
+"Things maybe better than you expect; one can never tell." He stopped
+and looked earnestly in her face, and she could see that he was very
+much moved. "I wish you could be spared all this, but I know you will do
+your best for everybody. I will not tell you now how we shall all miss
+you; the house will seem very empty when I go back."
+
+"You have been very good to me, Mr. Sefton; thank you for everything."
+
+"No one can help being good to you," he replied gravely. "Good-bye, God
+bless you!" The train moved on, and he lifted his hat and stood aside.
+
+"Oh, how kind every one is!" thought Bessie, as she leaned back wearily
+and closed her eyes. Was it all a dream, or was her beautiful holiday
+really over? Alas! the dull, aching consciousness told her too truly
+that it was sorrowful reality.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+"FAREWELL, NIGHT!"
+
+
+The journey seemed endless to Bessie, but she restrained her painful
+restlessness for Tom's sake. Tom was very kind after his own fashion; he
+got her some tea at Paddington, and was very attentive to her comfort,
+and every now and then he gave utterance to a few remarks, bidding her
+keep up her heart like a brave little woman.
+
+"'While there is life there is hope,' you know, Bessie," he said. "I
+think my father takes too dark a view of the case; but then, you see,
+Hatty is his own child. I don't believe she is as bad as all that;
+depend upon it, she will take a good turn yet."
+
+"Don't let us talk about it, Tom," pleaded Bessie, with a sick, wretched
+feeling that Tom's boyish testimony was not very reliable. How she
+wished he would be silent; but in a few minutes he was back again on the
+same subject, with another homely axiom for Bessie's comfort.
+
+But the longest day must have an end, and at last they reached Cliffe.
+No one met them at the station, but Tom assured her that he never
+expected to be met; he put Bessie into a fly, and again there was need
+for patience, as the horse toiled slowly up the steep road. It was long
+past nine when they reached the house, and by that time Bessie's
+overwrought feelings bordered on nervous irritability.
+
+The door opened as the fly stopped, and by the hall lamp she saw her
+mother's face, looking paler and sadder, but her voice was as quiet and
+gentle as ever.
+
+"Is that you, Bessie? My dear child, how tired you must be!"
+
+"Oh, mother, mother!" and now Bessie literally fell on her mother's neck
+and wept.
+
+Mrs. Lambert seemed to understand all about it; she made her sit down on
+the couch, and took off her hat, and smoothed her hair with caressing
+fingers.
+
+"You have had a long day, and have been keeping up as well as you could;
+don't be afraid of giving way a little, now you are with your own
+mother," she said tenderly.
+
+"Oh, mother, you are such a comfort; but I must not trouble you like
+this, and I am keeping you from Hatty."
+
+"Hattie is asleep," replied her mother quietly. "Christine is with her;
+you must come into the dining-room with me, and have something to eat
+and drink before you go upstairs;" but Bessie detained her "Wait a
+moment, mother, darling; Tom is there, and I want to speak to you alone.
+What does father really think of Hatty?"
+
+"He thinks her very ill," was the sorrowful answer; "it seems a sudden
+failure. She was much as usual until the warm weather came, and then one
+evening she complained of palpitation and faintness, and the next day
+she seemed very weak, and so it has gone on. Your father says he was
+always afraid there was latent mischief, but I think he hardly expected
+it would be like this. There was a consultation this morning, but they
+say there is no rallying power, and another attack may carry her off."
+
+"Oh, mother, if I had only stayed at home!"
+
+"Don't say that, Bessie; you must not even think of it; no care on your
+part could have prevented this. Hatty seemed as well as usual for a week
+or two after you left, and none of us suspected anything. You are very
+good not to reproach us for not sending for you before, but Hatty
+prevented us; she would not have your pleasure spoiled, and it was only
+last night that your father looked so grave, and said Tom had better
+fetch you."
+
+"But is there no hope--no hope at all, mother?"
+
+"I dare not ask the question," and here Mrs. Lambert's eyes filled with
+tears. "Your father looks so harassed. Dr. Morton said she might go on
+like this for a long time, getting weaker and weaker, or it might be
+sudden. Dear little Hatty is so good and patient, and gives us no
+trouble. Now you must not talk any more, and you must be a good child
+and take your supper; we all need to keep up our strength. I will leave
+Tom to take care of you while I go up to Hatty."
+
+Bessie did as she was told, and Ella and Katie waited on her, and then
+she went up to her own room, and stayed there until Christine came to
+fetch her.
+
+"Hattie is awake now, Bessie, and she is asking for you, and mother has
+gone downstairs to speak to father."
+
+"Thank you, Chrissy dear. I will go to her at once;" and Bessie went
+hurriedly across the passage.
+
+Hattie lay on her little bed with her eyes closed. As she opened them a
+sudden sweet smile came over her face, and she held out her arms to
+Bessie. "My own Betty, is it really you?"
+
+"Yes, it is really I," returned Bessie, trying to speak brightly; but
+now her heart sunk as she looked at her sister. There was no need to
+tell her Hatty was very ill; the life was flickering in the feeble body,
+the mysterious wasting disease had made rapid strides, even in these few
+days. "Oh, Hatty darling, to find you like this! Why--why did you not
+let them send for me? You wanted me; I am sure you wanted me."
+
+"Why, of course I wanted you," returned Hatty, in a weak, happy voice,
+"and that is just why I would not let them send. You know how unhappy I
+have always been because of my horrid selfishness, and I did want to be
+good for once, and I said to myself when Mrs. Sefton's letter came,
+'Bessie shall not know how poorly I feel, nor what strange suffocating
+feelings I have sometimes. I won't try to get my own way this time; she
+shall be happy a little longer.'"
+
+"Oh, Hatty! as though I cared for any happiness without you!"
+
+"You must not say that, Bessie dear," replied Hatty, stroking her
+sister's hand; "and yet it seems nice to hear you say so. Do you
+recollect what I used to say--that it would take very little to kill me,
+because I was so weak? Well, I think it is coming true."
+
+"Don't talk so, Hatty; I can't bear it. I feel as if I want to lie there
+in your stead."
+
+But Hatty shook her head.
+
+"No, darling, no; that would not do at all. You are so strong and full
+of life, and people could not spare you. It does not matter for a weakly
+little creature like myself. I have never been strong enough to enjoy
+anything. I have just been 'Little Miss Much-Afraid,' full of
+troublesome fears and fancies; but they seem gone somehow."
+
+"I am so glad, my Hatty; but ought you to talk?"
+
+"Yes, when I feel like this. Oh, I am so comfortable, and it is so nice
+to have you with me again. What talks we will have! Yes, I don't feel
+like dying yet. Oh, there's mother, and she is going to send you away."
+
+"Yes, for to-night, love. Bessie is tired, and it is not good for you to
+talk so much. Bessie shall be head nurse to-morrow, if she likes, but
+father says she is to go to bed now."
+
+"Very well, mother," replied Hatty meekly. "Bid me good-night, Bessie. I
+don't mean to be selfish ever again." And as Bessie kissed her without
+speaking and moved away, she said to herself, "It was Bessie that always
+helped me to be good; but bye and bye I shall be quite good. Oh, how
+nice that will be!"
+
+Bessie's life was changed, indeed, from this day. No more thoughtless,
+merry hours, no more rides and drives and pleasant musical evenings. Her
+days were passed in a sick-room, and from hour to hour she seemed only
+to live on Hatty's looks and words. Bessie had for many years been her
+mother's right hand, and now she shared her watch beside the sick-bed.
+Her bright, healthy color began to fade from fatigue and anxiety, and it
+needed her father's stringent orders to induce her to take needful rest
+and exercise. For the first time in her life Bessie found it difficult
+to submit, and she had to fight more than one battle with herself before
+she yielded. More than once her mother remonstrated with her tenderly
+but firmly.
+
+"Bessie dear," she said once, "this may be a long illness, and it is
+your duty to husband your strength most carefully. You are looking pale
+from confinement to the house and want of exercise. You know your father
+insists that Christine should relieve you for two hours in the
+afternoon."
+
+"Yes, mother; and of course father is thinking of me; but what does it
+matter if I look a little pale? I cannot bear to lose an hour of Hatty's
+company when--when--" but Bessie could not finish her sentence.
+
+"My dear, the feeling is natural; but don't you think Chrissy likes to
+have her to herself sometimes? We all love Hatty; you must remember
+that."
+
+"Oh, mother, how selfish I am, after all! I see what you mean. I want to
+monopolize Hatty, and I grudge her to every one else--even to you and
+Chrissy. I never knew I could be so horrid; but I see even trouble has
+its temptations."
+
+"Indeed it has, Bessie; but I will not have you say such hard things
+about yourself. You are our dear child, and our greatest comfort, and I
+do not know what your father and I would do without you. Don't fret any
+more, darling; go out with Katie, and get a little turn in the woods,
+and come back fresh for the evening work."
+
+Mrs. Lambert's words were not thrown away. Bessie's sweet, reasonable
+nature was easily guided; her passionate love for Hatty had blinded her
+to her own selfishness, but now her eyes were open. The mother's heart
+was often touched by the cheerful alacrity with which Bessie would yield
+her place to Christine. Even Hatty's plaintive, "Oh, must you go,
+Bessie?" seemed to make no impression; but how long those two hours
+seemed!
+
+Bessie did not forget her friends in her trouble; she sent frequent
+notes to Edna, and heard often from her in return. Now and then a kind
+message came from Richard, and every week a hamper filled with farm
+produce and fruit and flowers were sent from The Grange. Hatty used to
+revel in those flowers; she liked to arrange them herself, and would sit
+pillowed up on her bed or couch, and fill the vases with slow, tremulous
+fingers.
+
+"Doesn't the room look lovely?" she would say, in a tone of intense
+satisfaction. When her weakness permitted she loved to talk to Bessie
+about her friends at The Grange, and was never weary of listening to
+Bessie's descriptions.
+
+"What a nice man Mr. Richard must be, Betty!" she would say. "I should
+like to see him." And she often harped on this theme, and questioned
+Bessie closely on this subject; but often their talk went deeper than
+this.
+
+One evening, about five weeks after Bessie's return, she was alone with
+Hatty; she had been reading to her, and now Hatty asked her to put down
+the book.
+
+"Yes, it is very nice, but I feel inclined to talk. Come and lie on the
+bed, Bessie, and let us have one of our old cosy talks. Put your head
+down on the pillow beside me. Yes, that is how I mean; isn't that
+comfortable? I always did like you to put your arm round me. How strong
+and firm your hand feels! Look at the difference." And Hatty laid her
+wasted, transparent fingers on Bessie's pink palm.
+
+"Poor little Hatty?"
+
+"No, I am not poor a bit now. You must not call me that. I don't think I
+have ever been so happy in my life. Every one is so kind to me--even
+Tom--he never finds fault with me now."
+
+"We are all so sorry for you."
+
+"Yes, but you must not be too sorry. Somehow I am glad of this illness,
+because it makes you all think better of me. You will not remember now
+how cross, and jealous, and selfish I used to be. You will only say,
+'Poor little thing, she always wanted to be good, even when she was most
+naughty and troublesome.'"
+
+"Don't, Hatty; I can't bear to hear you!"
+
+"Yes, let me say it, please; it seems to do me good. How often you have
+helped me over my difficulties. 'If I could only tell Bessie,' that was
+what I used to say. I am glad you went away and gave me something to
+bear. I used to be glad every night when I prayed; it was something to
+do for you, and something to bear for His sake." And Hatty dropped her
+voice reverently, for she was speaking of the Lord Jesus.
+
+"Yes, darling, I see what you mean."
+
+"I am glad that it has not been too easy, and that I have really tried
+for once not to be selfish. I don't want to get well, Bessie. I should
+have all the old, miserable feelings over again. I have been 'Little
+Miss Much-Afraid' all my life, and the fears have been a part of me. Do
+you recollect what Bunyan said about Much-Afraid? 'She went through the
+river singing;' that was because she had left all her fears and troubles
+on the bank."
+
+"And you are not afraid to die, Hatty?"
+
+"No, not really afraid. Sometimes in the night, when I lie awake with
+that strange oppression, I think how strange it will be without you all,
+and to have only the angels to talk to me. But I suppose I shall get
+used to it. I always say that psalm over to myself, and then the queer
+feeling leaves me. Don't you know? 'He shall give His angels charge over
+thee. They shall bear thee up in their hands.' That verse gives one such
+a restful feeling; just as though one were a little child again."
+
+"Dear Hatty, you will be in that city where 'the inhabitants shall not
+say, I am sick, and they that dwell therein shall be forgiven their
+iniquity.' You will be where Jesus is.
+
+    'Peace, perfect peace with loved ones far away!
+     In Jesus' keeping we are safe--and they.'
+
+It does me good to hear you; but you must not talk any more, your voice
+is so weak. Let me repeat one of your favorite hymns, and then perhaps
+you will get drowsy." And then Hatty consented to be silent.
+
+After all, the end came very suddenly, just when it was least expected.
+Hatty had seemed better that day; there was a strange flicker of life
+and energy; she had talked much to her mother and Bessie, and had sent a
+loving, playful message to Tom, who was away from home.
+
+It had been her father's custom to take the early part of the
+night-watch, and then to summon one of the others to relieve him. He had
+persisted in this, in spite of long, laborious days. Hatty was very dear
+to her father's heart, and he loved those quiet hours beside her. Bessie
+had retired to bed early, as it was her turn to be roused, but long
+before the usual hour her mother was beside her.
+
+"Come, my child, come; do not wait to dress, Hatty is going home fast."
+
+One startled, non-comprehending look, and then the truth rushed on
+Bessie, and she threw on her dressing-gown and hurried to the sick-room.
+
+"Going home fast!" nay, she had gone; the last sigh was breathed as
+Bessie crossed the threshold "Thank God, she has not suffered!"
+murmured her father. Bessie heard him as she flung herself down beside
+Hatty.
+
+There had been no pain, no struggle; a sudden change, a few short sighs,
+and Hatty had crossed the river. How peaceful and happy she looked in
+her last sleep--the sweet, deep sleep that knows no awaking! An innocent
+smile seemed to linger on her face. Never more would Hatty mourn over
+her faults and shortcomings; never more would morbid fears torment and
+harass her weary mind; never more would she plead for forgiveness, nor
+falter underneath her life's burden, for, as Maguire says, "To those
+doubting ones earth was a night season of gloom and darkness, and in the
+borderland they saw the dawn of day; and when the summons comes they are
+glad to bid farewell to the night that is past, and to welcome with joy
+and singing the eternal day, whose rising shall know no sunset."
+
+Many and many a time during that mourning week did Bessie, spent and
+weary with weeping, recall those words that her darling had uttered, "I
+don't want to get well, Bessie; I should have all the old miserable
+feelings over again." And even in her desolation Bessie would not have
+called her back.
+
+    "My Hatty has gone," she wrote to Edna, in those first days of
+    her loss. "I shall never see her sweet face again until we meet
+    in Paradise. I shall never hear her loving voice; but for her
+    own sake I cannot wish her back. Her life was not a happy one;
+    no one could make it happy, it was shadowed by physical
+    depression. She had much to bear, and it was not always easy to
+    understand her; it was difficult for her to give expression to
+    the nameless fears, and the strange, morbid feelings that made
+    life so difficult. She loved us all so much, but even her love
+    made her wretched, for a careless word or a thoughtless speech
+    rankled in her mind for days, and it was not easy to extract the
+    sting; she was too sensitive, too highly organized for daily
+    life; she made herself miserable about trifles. I know she could
+    not help it, poor darling, and father says so too. Oh, how I
+    miss her. But God only knows that, and I dare say He will
+    comfort me in His own good time. Mother is ill; she is never
+    strong, and the nursing and grief have broken her down, so we
+    must all think of her. Pray for us all, dear Edna, for these are
+    sorrowful days. I do not forget you, but I seem to look at you
+    through the mist of years; still, I am always your loving
+    friend,
+
+        "BESSIE."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+"I MUST NOT THINK OF MYSELF."
+
+
+Bessie's words to Edna had been strangely prophetical--"Trouble may come
+to me one day;" it had come already, in its most crushing form. The bond
+of sisterhood is very strong; it has peculiar and precious privileges,
+apart from other relationships; a sort of twinship of sympathy unites
+many sisters who have grown up together. Their thoughts and interests
+are seldom apart. All their little pleasures, their minor griefs,
+youthful hopes, disappointments, are shared with each other. They move
+together through the opening years of their life. Sometimes old age
+finds them still together, tottering hand in hand to the grave. Of all
+her sisters, Bessie could least spare Hatty, and her death left a void
+in the girl's life that was very difficult to fill. From the first,
+Bessie had accepted the responsibility of Hatty. Hatty's peculiar
+temperament, her bad health and unequal spirits, had set her apart from
+the other members of the family, who were all strong and cheerful and
+full of life.
+
+Bessie had realized this and had made Hatty her special charge and duty;
+but now there was a gap in her daily life, a sense of emptiness and
+desolation. There was no need now to hurry through her morning's task
+that she might sit with Hatty. When she went out, there was no Hatty to
+watch for her return and listen to all her descriptions of what she had
+seen. At night, when Bessie went upstairs, she would creep softly into a
+certain empty room, which was dearer to her than any other room. Hatty's
+little gowns, her few girlish possessions, were all locked away in the
+wardrobe; but her Bible and Prayer-book, and her shabby little
+writing-case, lay on the table. Bessie would pull up the blinds, and
+kneel down by the low bed; she liked to say her prayers in that room.
+Sometimes as she prayed the sense of her sister's presence would come
+over her strongly; she could almost feel the touch of the thin little
+hands that had so often toiled in her service. Hatty's large wistful
+eyes seemed to look lovingly out of the darkness. "Oh! my Hatty, are you
+near me?" she would sob; but there was no answer out of the silence.
+
+Who has not tasted the bitterness of these moments, when the craving for
+the loved presence seems insupportable, hardly to be borne? How our poor
+human hearts rebel against the unnatural separation, until the thrilling
+words make themselves heard: "He is not the God of the dead, but of the
+living." Oh, yes, of the living! Cease, then, to mourn, poor soul, as
+one without hope. Somewhere, not here, but in the larger room of a
+purified existence, your beloved one lives, breathes, nay, thinks of
+thee. Be comforted; one day we shall meet them, and the friendship of
+time will become the love of eternity.
+
+Bessie strove hard not to be selfish in her grief. Her mother's
+strength, never very great, had broken down utterly for a time. Bessie
+knew that this failure of power added to her father's anxiety, and in
+the most touching manner she tried to console them both. When she looked
+back at these sad days, Bessie owned that she had been marvellously
+helped and supported. With the day's burden had come daily strength to
+bear it.
+
+"I must not think of myself; I must think of father and mother," she
+would say, as she awoke in the morning with that blank sense of loss.
+"There is nothing to do for Hatty now, but there are others who need
+me." And this thought helped her through the day.
+
+In that busy household there was no time to sit alone and brood. A quiet
+walk now and then, and that half hour in Hatty's room, was all Bessie
+could conscientiously spare. If she stayed away for an hour, Christine
+complained of dullness, and her mother looked sadder on her return.
+Ella and Katie, too, made constant demands on her time and patience.
+Christine was very unlike Bessie in temperament. She was a pretty,
+bright girl, warm-hearted and high-spirited, but she did not possess
+Bessie's contented nature. Christine often found her quiet life irksome.
+She was inquisitive, restless, eager to see the world. She had
+insatiable curiosity; a love of change, her small girlish ambitions. She
+wanted to plume her wings a little--to try them in flights hither and
+thither. The gay world seemed to her ignorance a land flowing with milk
+and honey. She had yet to spell the meaning of the words illusion and
+vanity. Bessie was fond of Christine. She loved all her sisters dearly,
+but there was less sympathy between them than there had been between
+herself and Hatty.
+
+Hatty, in spite of her morbid humors and difficult tendencies, had a
+refined and cultured mind; her chief source of fretfulness was that she
+loved the best, and failed to reach it. The very loftiness of her
+standard produced despondency akin to despair.
+
+Hatty's faith was pure, but feeble. She hated everything false and mean.
+She despised the conventionalities of life, while Bessie laughed at
+them. She and Bessie had their ideals, their simple secrets, their crude
+girlish notions, that were nevertheless very true and sweet.
+
+Bessie could make allowances for Hatty's sharp speeches as she watched
+her daily struggles with her faulty temper. She could rejoice in Hatty's
+victories all the more that she had borne so patiently with her
+failures, and there was no abiding sting in her grief now, no remorseful
+feelings for duties undone and opportunities wasted; but with Christine
+things were different.
+
+One Sunday afternoon when Bessie was stealing away for a quiet half hour
+in Hatty's room, she was surprised to find Christine following her.
+
+"May I come in too, Bessie?" she said very humbly, and her eyes were
+full of tears; "I do so want a little comfort, and I can't talk to
+mother. I am making myself miserable about Hatty."
+
+"About our dear Hatty! Oh, Chrissy, what can you mean?" asked Bessie
+reproachfully. "We can talk here, and perhaps our poor darling may be
+listening to us. I do love this room; it seems to breathe of Hatty
+somehow. There, I will open the window. How sweet the air is? and look,
+how red the leaves are, though it is only the end of September!" And
+then she added, softly: "Hatty has been six weeks in her new home."
+
+"Oh, how I envy you, Bessie!" sighed Christine, "you can talk and think
+happily about our dear little Hatty, but with me it is all so different.
+If I had only been good to her, if she had not made me so impatient But
+I cannot help remembering how horrid I used to be." And here one tear
+after another rolled down Christine's pretty, troubled face.
+
+Bessie's soft heart grew very pitiful. "Dear Chrissy," she said gently,
+"there is no need to fret over that now. Hatty was always fond of you,
+and you of her; she told me that night, when I came home, how kind you
+had been to her. There was no one but you to do things, and you were
+such a comfort to her."
+
+"How could I help being kind to her, when she was so ill, and there was
+the fear of losing her? Somehow, I never thought there was much amiss
+with Hatty. I could not get it out of my mind that she always made the
+most of every little ailment, and that it was wrong of you and mother to
+give in to her. I never thought it would come to this." And Christine
+sobbed afresh.
+
+"Yes, I know what you mean; but, indeed, Chrissy, dear, you need not
+distress yourself so. Hatty forgave everything long ago; she was never
+one to bear malice--no, her nature was too sweet for that."
+
+"But I might have made her happier," persisted Christine. "I need not
+have minded her worrying so over every little trifle, but I was always
+losing patience, and getting vexed with her. I used to wonder at your
+bearing with her as you did, and I thought it a mistake to give way to
+all her humors. I never imagined that she was cross because she was
+suffering, but father says all her gloomy fancies and tiresome little
+ways came from her bad health."
+
+"I might have made her happier!" That speech went to Bessie's heart.
+"Listen to me, darling," she said eagerly; "think rather of how, by your
+waywardness, you have wounded the loving heart of Jesus, and sinned
+against Him. Let the sense of Hatty's loss send you to him in penitence
+for pardon. Nothing can now undo the past; but you can set yourself in
+the grace and strength which Jesus gives to do all in your power to make
+the lives of those around you happier. I do not want to make you more
+miserable, but what you have just said reminds me so of a passage I
+copied only the other day out of one of Tom's books; it was written by a
+man who failed in his own life, but was very gentle and very tolerant of
+other people. 'Oh, let us not wait,' he says, 'to be just, or pitiful,
+or demonstrative toward those we love, until they or we are struck down
+by illness, or threatened with death. Life is short, and we have never
+too much time for gladdening the hearts of those who are travelling the
+dark journey with us. Oh, be swift to love, make haste to be kind!' And
+then in another place he says, and that is so true, too, 'Never to tire,
+never to grow cold; to be patient, sympathetic, tender; to look for the
+budding flower and the opening heart, to hope always like God; to love
+always--this is duty.'"
+
+Christine made a despairing gesture. "It is a duty in which I have
+utterly failed," she said bitterly.
+
+"You think you might have been kinder to Hatty; that is just what Tom
+said of himself the other day. I am afraid many people have these sort
+of reproachful thoughts when they lose one they love. Everything seems
+different," she continued, in a musing tone; "we see with other eyes.
+Death seems to throw such a strange, searching light over one's life;
+big things are dwarfed, and little things come into pre-eminence; our
+looks and words and actions pass in review before us--we see where we
+have failed, and our successes do not comfort us."
+
+"But you, at least, are free from these thoughts, Bessie?"
+
+"Not entirely. There were times when I found Hatty trying, when she
+depressed me, and made me impatient. Indeed, Chrissy dear, we must
+remember that we are human, and not angels. None of us are free from
+blame; we have all failed in our turn. You have never been morbid
+before; try to forget the little everyday frictions, for which Hatty was
+to blame as well as you, and only remember how good you were to her in
+her illness--what a comfort to me as well as to her. 'Chrissy has been
+such a darling,' Hatty said to me one day."
+
+After all, Christine was quite willing to be comforted, and presently
+she dried her eyes.
+
+"You must let me talk to you sometimes, Bessie," she said; "it will do
+me good, because you have such a nice clear way of putting things, and
+you never mind trouble. I know I can't take Hatty's place, but if you
+will let me do things for you sometimes, and feel that I am a help, for
+we are sisters as much as you and Hatty were, and I want to get nearer
+to you somehow."
+
+"And so you shall, dear," replied Bessie, touched by this humility. "You
+must not think that I do not love you because Hatty was so much to me.
+There is nothing I would not do for you, Chrissy--oh, you may be sure of
+that;" and Bessie kissed her affectionately.
+
+This conversation made Christine happier, for she was a good-hearted
+girl, and her repentance was very real, and it strengthened Bessie in
+her resolve to do her best for them all. Sorrow is a great test of
+character; it makes the selfish more selfish, and hardens the proud, but
+Bessie grew softer under its influence. After all, Edna was right in
+saying that it was harder to suffer through one's own fault. An
+affliction that comes straight from God's hand (though, in one sense,
+all trouble is permitted by His providence) wounds, and yet heals at the
+same time, and Bessie was to learn this by degrees; and, after all, her
+cross was wreathed with the soft flowers of hope.
+
+One morning early in October Bessie had a most unexpected pleasure. She
+had just returned from a long walk, and was on her way to the
+morning-room in search of her mother, when Christine opened the
+drawing-room door and beckoned to her with a very excited face.
+
+"Do come in, Betty," she said, in a loud whisper that must have been
+distinctly audible inside the room. "What a time you have been! and
+there is a friend of yours waiting for you."
+
+Bessie quickened her steps, feeling somewhat mystified by Christine's
+manner, and the next moment she was face to face with Edna. Bessie
+turned very pale and could hardly speak at first for surprise and
+emotion; but Edna took her in her arms and kissed her.
+
+"My dear Bessie," she said softly; and then she laughed a little
+nervously, and it was not the old musical laugh at all--"are you very
+surprised to see me? Oh, it was a bright idea of mine. I have been
+visiting those same friends (I had returned from them that day, you
+know, when we were snowed up together). Well, when I saw Sheen Valley,
+all of a sudden the thought popped into my head that I would stop at
+Cliffe, and take a later train; so I telegraphed to mamma, who is in
+London, and now I have a whole hour to spend with you. Is not that
+nice?"
+
+"Very nice indeed. I am so glad to see you, Edna; but you are looking
+delicate; you have lost your color."
+
+"What nonsense!" with a touch of her old impatience. "You are as bad as
+mamma; she is always finding fault with me. People who live in glass
+houses should not throw stones at their neighbors. You do not look like
+yourself either, Bessie."
+
+"Oh, that is different," and Bessie's lips trembled a little; "I have
+gone through so much since we parted. I try to take it properly, and
+every one helps me, but I think I miss my Hatty more every day."
+
+"You want a change," returned Edna kindly, for she was much touched by
+the alteration in her friend's looks.
+
+Bessie had lost her pretty fresh color, and looked pale and subdued in
+her black dress; her gray eyes had a sad look in them, even her voice
+had lost its old cheery tones, and her very movements were quieter; the
+bright elasticity that had been her charm was missing now, and yet Edna
+thought she had never looked so sweet.
+
+"My poor little Daisy," she continued, "you have a crushed look. You
+want country air to revive you. Will you come to us? Mamma will be
+delighted; you are such a favorite of hers; and as for myself, I want
+you more than I can say."
+
+"Not yet; I could not leave mother yet," returned Bessie; but a faint
+color stole into her face. No, she could not leave her post, and yet it
+would have been nice to see The Grange again, and Richard's friendly
+face; he had been so kind to her; and there was Whitefoot, and the dear
+dogs, and the lanes would be full of hips and haws. "No, not yet; but I
+should like to come again one day."
+
+"Well, well, I will not tease you; bye and bye I will make another
+appeal, but if your mother be not well----" She paused, and then
+something of the old mischief came into her eyes. "You see I am
+improving, Bessie; I am not always trying to get my own way; my goodness
+makes mamma quite uneasy. I think she has got it into her head that I
+shall die young; all good young people die--in books. No, it was wrong
+of me to joke," as a pained look crossed Bessie's face. "Seriously, I am
+trying to follow your advice; but, oh! it is such hard work."
+
+"Dear Edna, do you think I do not see the difference in you?"
+
+"Am I different?" she asked eagerly, and a wistful look came into her
+lovely eyes. "Richard said the other day how much nicer I was; we are
+quite friends, Ritchie and I, now, and I won't let mamma be so hard on
+him. He was very kind to me when--when--Neville went away; he tells me
+about him sometimes, for once or twice he has seen him in London; but
+just fancy, Bessie, he never even asked after me. 'Are your people
+well?' That is all he said; but of course he will never forgive me; men
+are like that."
+
+"He may not think that you want to be forgiven," returned Bessie.
+
+Edna's color rose.
+
+"He will never know it," she said proudly; but the next moment her tone
+changed. "Oh, Bessie, what shall I do? Sometimes I am so miserable that
+I hardly know how I am to go on living. I never thought I should miss
+Neville like this, but I do--I do."
+
+"Do not think me unkind if I say that I rejoice to hear it; it proves
+how deep and real your affection was."
+
+"It was the only real part of me," was the reply. "Now it is too
+late, I have discovered it for myself. I never would let myself
+think seriously of my engagement. I liked Neville, and I meant to
+marry him one day, and that was all I thought about it; but now I
+see that the real feeling was there all the time, only choked up
+with rubbish, and I am quite sure that I could never care for any
+one else in the same way--never--never."
+
+"Poor Edna! it is very hard, and I am so sorry for you."
+
+But as Bessie spoke Christine came back into the room with a small tray
+of refreshments, and her mother followed, so she and Edna were obliged
+to break off the conversation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+"BESSIE'S SECOND FLITTING."
+
+
+Just before Edna left them Dr. Lambert came into the room. He seemed
+very pleased to see her, and at once offered to drive her to the
+station. Bessie was a little disappointed at this, for she had hoped to
+walk down with her friend; it would have given them time to finish their
+conversation; but Edna certainly looked tired, so she refrained from a
+dissenting word.
+
+Edna bade her good-bye very affectionately, and begged her to write to
+her frequently, and just before they reached the station she said a word
+or two to Dr. Lambert; would he spare Bessie to them bye and bye--not
+now, but a little later--for Oatlands was pleasant even in the winter?
+
+"Yes, bye and bye," he returned hastily; "but her mother cannot spare
+the girl now; she is not well; her strength has flagged since Hatty's
+death, and Bessie is mother's crutch; but later on you shall have her;
+and indeed she looks pale, and in need of change, and I shall be
+thankful to let her go." And when he reached the home he told them all
+of Edna's invitation to Bessie, and how he had answered her.
+
+Mrs. Lambert looked wistfully at her daughter.
+
+"You would like to go, Bessie; it would do you good, and indeed I am
+growing stronger every day. I would spare you willingly."
+
+"No, mother, I am not going to leave you just now. Why, you have not
+been down yet to breakfast. When you are quite well and strong I will
+think of it." And Bessie looked tenderly at her mother's thin, faded
+face.
+
+Perhaps it was not quite so thin as it was, not so pinched and anxious,
+but there was plenty of room for improvement; and though Mrs. Lambert
+sighed, she could not conscientiously own that she was well. But when
+she was alone with her husband, she spoke to him about Bessie's looks.
+
+"She is not like the same girl," she said sadly. "She feels darling
+Hatty's loss more than the others. What does it matter about me,
+Herbert? A mother must think of her children before herself."
+
+"Perhaps so," he replied rather dryly, "but it is my duty to think first
+of you, my dear Dora. We both love our children, and would willingly do
+our best for them. I am not blind to Bessie's looks; but she is really
+strong, and her health will not suffer."
+
+"No; but the change will do her good," she pleaded.
+
+"I do not doubt it, and I wish you were strong enough to spare her; but
+Bessie is young enough to wait a little. It is we who are growing old,
+my dear, and who need to be comforted quickly; the young have their life
+before them."
+
+But though the doctor expressed himself after this stoical fashion, he
+was very tender in his manner to Bessie, and though he would not have
+avowed it to his wife, he watched the girl narrowly, and often took her
+for drives, or contrived errands for her at the other end of the town.
+Nay, more, he became extravagant, and brought home books for her and
+Christine, bidding them improve their minds, and Bessie found herself
+the possessor of several nice books, not wholly instructive--for "Lorna
+Doone," and Miss Austen's "Emma," and "A Sister's Story," by Mrs.
+Craven, were among them.
+
+Bessie had other little surprises that pleased her greatly; every week
+or two a hamper came from Oatlands--new-laid eggs and cream, a chicken
+or two, and often a brace of partridges or a pheasant. Bessie, who was
+housekeeper, used to rejoice over the contents of these hampers; she
+knew the game would tempt her mother's sickly appetite. Many of Dr.
+Lambert's patients remembered that he had an invalid wife, and fruit and
+flowers and all sorts of delicacies found their way to the doctor's
+house, for the Lamberts were much respected in Cliffe, and even the poor
+people would step up with a couple of new-laid eggs from a speckled
+hen, or a pot of blackberry-jam, or a bottle of elderberry wine for Mrs.
+Lambert.
+
+"The world is very full of nice people," observed Bessie one day, when,
+near Christmas, she looked at the larder shelves fairly laden with good
+things. One kind friend had sent them a barrel of oysters. Aunt
+Charlotte's contribution had been a stock of apples that would last them
+half through the winter.
+
+The hamper from Oatlands had been unusually rich, for a turkey, and a
+great fat goose dangled from the ceiling, and Edna had added a rich cake
+and a packet of bonbons and chocolate for Ella and Katie. But the letter
+that accompanied it had made Bessie somewhat anxious. Edna had a cold, a
+severe cold, for she could not shake it off, and her mother had decided
+to take her to Brighton for a month or two. The doctor had recommended
+Hastings or Bournemouth as being warmer, but Edna had a fancy for
+Brighton, so her mother had taken a suite of rooms in the Glenyan
+Mansions--a big drawing-room overlooking King's Road and the sea, and a
+small dining-room leading out of it.
+
+    "And we have four bedrooms," wrote Edna, "for Richard proposes
+    to run down for a night or two now and then, and mamma suggests
+    an invitation to you. Do you think you could come, Bessie--that
+    your mother could spare you? We are going on the third of
+    January, and want you to join us a few days afterward. Do try,
+    there's a dear! My cold has made me so weak and miserable, and
+    the cough will not let me sleep properly at night, so of course
+    my life is not very pleasant. It will be such a comfort to have
+    you, for I never can talk to mamma; she frets herself into a
+    fuss over everything, and that makes me, oh, so impatient, I
+    should like to jump into the sea! But you are such a patient,
+    reasonable little creature, Daisy dear, and I am so fond of you.
+    Bye the bye, Richard has sent you a message. He was very
+    particular in repeating it more than once. Let me see; oh, this
+    is it: 'Do you not think that you owe some duty to your friends,
+    especially when they need you?' That he was sure you could do me
+    good, and that he hoped you would make every effort to come, if
+    only for my sake. Was that not kind and brotherly of him? But
+    then Richard is very much improved, too."
+
+Bessie hardly knew what she was to say in reply. Her mother was better,
+certainly; but she could not propose to leave her. She was much
+surprised when her father asked her that evening if no letter had
+accompanied the hamper, and on her replying in the affirmative, he
+coolly asked to see it.
+
+"Well," he said interrogatively, as he handed back the letter, "what
+answer do you propose to give, Bessie?"
+
+"I do not know; at least, I have not thought about it," she answered.
+
+Her father looked at her steadily.
+
+"You have never been to Brighton?"
+
+"Never, father."
+
+"So much the better; it will be all new to you. Sit down and write to
+Miss Edna at once, and tell her that you will be glad to spend a week or
+two with her and her mother. Let me see, what time did she say? The
+first week in January, that will fit in well. I am going up to town on
+the seventh, and we can travel together. That will do famously, will it
+not, mother?"
+
+"Do you think you can spare me, mother?" asked Bessie anxiously.
+
+And Mrs. Lambert answered without hesitation: "I certainly can and will
+spare you, Bessie, and I am very grateful to Mrs. Sefton for her
+invitation. My dear," as the girl still hesitated, "your father and I
+have long wished you to have a little holiday, so your mind may be quite
+at rest." And after this Bessie was satisfied.
+
+But it was with very different feelings that Bessie left her home in the
+mild-tempered sunshine of that January day, to those when, seven months
+ago, she paid her first visit to The Grange. Things had been well with
+her then; no trouble since her brother's death had checkered her bright,
+sunshiny existence. She had gone in holiday mood to seek fresh interests
+and new enjoyments; but now how utterly changed were her feelings! She
+could no longer look out upon the world through the rose-colored
+spectacles that youth generally wears. For the second time in her life
+she had been brought face to face with death, and the great reality had
+sobered her. A deep sense of responsibility, of the inner meaning of
+life, seemed to cast a weight of gravity over her. A bond of sympathy
+seemed to unite her with all those who were in sorrow; so many were
+unhappy, so many had lost their nearest and dearest. Oh, how she longed
+to comfort them all!
+
+Bessie was not one to speak of her feelings; the best of her life was
+out of sight. Only once she said to Christine, as they were walking home
+from church in the starlight:
+
+"People are very proud when their relatives achieve any worldly honor or
+attain to any rank, yet no one seems to feel an added dignity when any
+dear one has finished his or her earthly conflict most gloriously, and
+has won a heavenly crown. Why is it, Chrissy? Somehow it seems such an
+honor to me to feel I have a sister as well as a brother in heaven; it
+makes one more careful not to do anything unworthy of them."
+
+Bessie's gray eyes had a softer look in them than they had of old; her
+voice had grown more gentle. Mrs. Sefton, who was at the station, hardly
+recognized the girl as she came quickly toward her; the black dress and
+crape bonnet made her look older, but when she smiled it was the same
+Bessie.
+
+"My dear, are you very tired?" she asked, looking at her kindly. "It is
+such a cold evening that I dare not let Edna come with me, for her
+cough is still troublesome. I had some difficulty with her, but at last
+I got my way. Edna is not nearly so self-willed as she used to be." But
+here Mrs. Sefton sighed.
+
+"Do you think Edna is really better?" asked Bessie, when the carriage
+door was closed, and they drove away from the station.
+
+"I do not know," returned Mrs. Sefton, in a troubled voice. "Dr. Milton
+assures me that there is nothing radically wrong with her health, only
+want of tone and a severe cold; but I cannot feel comfortable about her.
+She is losing appetite and flesh, and her spirits are so variable. She
+is not happy, Bessie, and she cannot always hide her feelings from her
+mother. Richard says that we can do nothing; but how are we to go on
+like this?"
+
+Bessie hardly knew what to answer; she was full of sympathy for the
+anxious mother; she knew Edna was her one thought in life, and that no
+happiness was possible to her if her child suffered. They were in the
+King's Road now, and the brightly lighted shop-windows almost dazzled
+Bessie. On the opposite side she could see a dark line that was
+evidently the sea; a dull, heavy surging of waves broke on her ear; now
+and then the splash of the white surf was clearly visible.
+
+"Edna is young," she said vaguely; but, after all, there was scant
+consolation in this truism, for the young suffer very keenly; a sense
+of impatience, of injustice, aggravates their pain. The old accept their
+sorrows more meekly; their reason comes to their aid. "Man is born to
+trouble," they say, and the philosophy enables them to endure at least
+with some show of dignity.
+
+"Yes, she is young; perhaps she may be consoled," replied Mrs. Sefton,
+with another sigh; and then the carriage stopped. "Our rooms are on the
+first floor," observed Mrs. Sefton, as they stood in the large,
+brilliantly lighted hall, and she conducted Bessie up the staircase and
+down a narrow corridor, and then into a long, well-furnished
+drawing-room, where they found Edna.
+
+She was sitting on a low chair, looking at the fire, but she sprang up
+and welcomed Bessie warmly.
+
+"My dear little Daisy, how delighted I am to see you!" she said, with
+something of her old animation. "Mamma, is it not delicious to have her
+again? Sit down there; you look tired and cold, and I mean to wait on
+you. Mamma, the tea is all ready, and I am going to pour it out. Take
+off your warm jacket, Bessie; oh, and your bonnet too; and then you will
+look more like yourself."
+
+Bessie did as she was bidden, but her eyes followed Edna's graceful
+figure. How delicate she looked--far, far too pretty! She was almost
+dazzling to-night. The ruby velveteen set off her fair hair and white
+skin; her face was flushed, and her eyes were too bright; and as she
+moved about Bessie heard her cough once or twice--a hard, dry cough. But
+there seemed nothing wrong with Edna's spirits to-night. She was
+evidently overjoyed to have her friend with her again; she talked and
+laughed after her old fashion.
+
+"You will be sure to like this place, Bessie," she said. "The shops are
+delightful, and it is so amusing to see the people; and the sea is
+magnificent. I have my ponies here, so we can have plenty of drives; and
+there are some people that we know at the Bedford. We don't intend to
+mope, mamma and I; we are going to the grand bazaar at the Pavilion, and
+there are some first-rate concerts. But you shall be as quiet as you
+like," with a sudden change of tone, as Bessie looked grave; "your only
+duty will be to talk to me. Now I will show you your room, and you shall
+unpack and get ready for dinner."
+
+Bessie was not sorry to be left alone in her comfortable room. When she
+had finished her unpacking, she put on her best cashmere dress, with its
+soft white frilling, and fastened a few white flowers at her throat.
+Then she sat down before the fire, and had a quiet quarter of an hour
+before Edna came in search of her and carried her off.
+
+All the evening Edna was as merry as possible. She played several of
+her favorite pieces, and even sung a little; only as the evening drew to
+its close she began to have a white, exhausted look; but she followed
+Bessie into her room, and sat down on the rug, with the evident
+intention of having a talk.
+
+"Edna, you must not stay; you look far too tired," remonstrated Bessie;
+"and we shall have plenty of time for talk to-morrow."
+
+"But I like fireside talks best," replied Edna willfully; "and I am not
+inclined to sleep yet. I do hate the night!" with sudden petulance. "It
+is so stupid to lie awake and watch the fire go out, and count sheep
+jumping through a gap in the hedge; anything to cheat one's self into
+oblivion. Do you sleep well, Bessie?"
+
+"Yes, always; trouble never keeps me awake. I always think of Hatty when
+I lie down, and wonder what she is doing, and what the angels are
+teaching her, but I fall asleep in the middle of a thought, and it is
+morning before I wake."
+
+"Oh, you have a good conscience," replied Edna bitterly; "you have no
+remorseful thoughts to goad you into wakefulness. If one could only have
+one's life over again, Bessie? I want you to help me while you are here,
+to think what I had better do. I cannot go on like this. Is there
+anything that I can do? Any work? If it were not for mamma, I would go
+to some hospital and learn nursing; it is too dreadful living like this
+just to amuse one's self, and try to forget. I must do something,
+something for the good of myself, if not for my fellow-creatures."
+
+Bessie listened to her with some surprise. Edna's manner was excited;
+she looked feverish; her voice had a hard ring in it.
+
+"Tell me what I must do," she said, fixing her large eyes on Bessie.
+
+"Dear, you must get well first," replied Bessie tenderly. "You are far
+from strong; your mother is right, Edna."
+
+Edna shook her head impatiently.
+
+"It is nothing--a cold; what does it signify? How can one feel well with
+all these worrying thoughts? It is work that I want, Bessie--work that
+will take me out of myself and make me forget."
+
+"Are you sure that God wishes you to forget?" asked Bessie softly. "Oh,
+my dear," stroking her hand, "you can never say again that I do not know
+what trouble is, that I cannot feel for you; but I have learned that we
+must not run away from our trouble; girls so often talk like that," she
+went on, "about going into a hospital, but they do not know what they
+want. Nursing is too sacred a work to be done from such a motive. What
+good would such a work, undertaken in a selfish, self-seeking spirit, do
+them? Edna, when God wounds He heals, but it must be in His own time,
+and in the proper place; and even troubles caused by our own
+recklessness must come under this head."
+
+"But, Bessie----"
+
+"Wait a minute, dear; I seem to see it so clearly. You have work, only
+you are throwing it aside and asking for more. 'Thou earnest not to thy
+place by accident; it is the very place God meant for thee.' Don't you
+remember those lines? Surely, surely, an only daughter's place must be
+with her mother; to make her happy must be no light duty. You are her
+one thought from morning to night; it breaks her heart to see you
+unhappy. Edna, if your mother died, and you had not tried to make her
+happy!"
+
+"Do you mean--oh, I see what you mean, but I am too selfish to find it
+out for myself. I am only thinking of my own good, not of her at all. I
+have never been good to her; she gives all, and I just take it."
+
+"Make her your work," whispered Bessie, "and bye and bye comfort will
+come to you, as it would not in any hospital, in any self-chosen duty;
+for where God puts us, He must find us, or we shall have to give an
+account of why we have erred and strayed," finished Bessie reverently.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+ON THE PARADE.
+
+
+Bessie had spoken out of the simplicity of her honest heart; but there
+is a great power in earnestness, and her words were not to fall to the
+ground. In spite of Edna's faults, many and glaring as they were, she
+was very susceptible to good influences; her affection for Neville
+Sinclair proved this, as well as her friendship with Bessie; underneath
+the leaven of selfishness and self-will engendered by a false education
+there was a large margin of generosity and truth; if she were quick to
+sin, she was also quick to repent.
+
+Edna did not again allude to the subject of her unhappiness; there were
+no more fireside confidences with Bessie, but for two or three days she
+was very quiet and thoughtful, and there were no excited moods of
+merriment to jar on Bessie. She was gentle and affectionate in her
+manner to her mother, and this unusual docility seemed to add to Mrs.
+Sefton's uneasiness.
+
+Bessie did not feel comfortable in her mind about Edna; the old spring
+and elasticity seemed gone forever; there was manifest effort in
+everything she did through the day, and yet she never rested willingly.
+She laid out plans for every hour, she made appointments with her
+friends; every day there was driving, shopping, tea-drinking, often a
+concert or recitation to finish off the evening; but now and then, in
+the midst of a lively conversation, there would be the look of utter
+exhaustion on her face, and when her friends had left she would throw
+herself on the couch as though all strength had gone. On these
+occasions, when she was spent and weary, it was not always easy to
+control her irritability. Mrs. Sefton was not a judicious woman, and, in
+spite of her devotion to her daughter, she often showed a want of tact
+and a lack of wisdom that galled Edna's jaded spirits. She was always
+urging Edna to seek new distractions, or appealing to her sense of
+vanity.
+
+"Mamma thinks a new dress or ornament can make any girl happy," she said
+one day, with a curl of her lip; "but she is mistaken; I don't care
+about them now."
+
+One afternoon Mrs. Sefton had been lunching with a friend, and when she
+returned she brought Edna a present; it was a pin brooch set with
+brilliants, a most costly toy, and Edna had admired it in an idle
+moment; but as she opened the little case there was no pleased
+expression on her face.
+
+"Oh, mamma, why have you bought this?" she asked, in a dissatisfied
+voice.
+
+"You admired it so much, my darling, and so I thought I would please
+myself by giving you this surprise."
+
+"It is very pretty," holding it out for Bessie's inspection; "but I have
+more ornaments than I know how to use now. I am sorry you bought it,
+mamma; it must have cost so much money."
+
+"Do you think I begrudge you anything?" replied Mrs. Sefton, who was
+much chagrined by this reception of her gift.
+
+Edna looked up at this moment, and saw the disappointed look on her
+mother's face. Her better feelings were touched, and she threw her arms
+round her neck.
+
+"Mother dear, why will you load me so with things?" she remonstrated.
+"You give me everything, and I do nothing for you in return; please
+don't give me anything more for a long time. I am horribly discontented,
+nothing seems to give me pleasure; even this beautiful pin is wasted on
+me."
+
+"Don't talk so, Edna," returned her mother, with the tears in her eyes;
+"if you knew how it troubled me to hear you. There is nothing that I
+would not do to make you happy, but if you talk in that way you take all
+the spirit out of me."
+
+"Then I won't talk so any more," replied Edna, repentantly; and she
+fastened the brilliant pin in some lace she wore, and begged them both
+to admire it; and she was very affectionate to her mother all that
+evening, and seemed bent on making her smile.
+
+Mrs. Sefton looked almost happy that night; she thought Edna looked
+better and more like herself, and she had not coughed once, and no one
+knew that as the girl took off her trinket that night she suddenly hid
+her face in her hands and wept.
+
+"It is all no use, mother," she sobbed; "no money can buy me content nor
+make me good and happy; if I were only like Bessie--Bessie is worthy of
+him, but I never was--I never was!"
+
+When Bessie had been with her friends more than a week she began to
+wonder that there was no news of Richard, and one day she asked Edna if
+he were all alone at The Grange.
+
+"Yes, I believe so," was the careless answer; "but Richard is a regular
+old bachelor, and he will not be dull."
+
+"But he comes to see you sometimes?"
+
+"He has not been yet, but that is mamma's fault, and not Ritchie's; he
+wrote on Wednesday to say he was coming from Saturday to Monday, but
+mamma said she wanted the room for Miss Shelton, and after all, she did
+not come; so it was a pity Richard should be disappointed; and now Miss
+Shelton may come next week, and there is no room for him again. Mamma
+has just written to say that she cannot possibly have him until Saturday
+week."
+
+Bessie felt a pang of disappointment; she was going home on the
+Thursday, and would just miss him. What a pity! He had been so kind and
+friendly to her during her visit at The Grange, and she would have liked
+to have seen him. She wondered vaguely if he would be disappointed too
+when he heard that she had gone. It was thoughtless of Mrs. Sefton to
+invite Miss Shelton, but most likely she had done it on purpose to keep
+her stepson away. Edna had told her rather sorrowfully the other day
+that her mother did not understand Richard any better.
+
+"He is never at his ease with her, and so he never appears to advantage
+in her presence," she said. "Poor Ritchie! I am afraid he has a dull
+life at The Grange!"
+
+Bessie was afraid so too, but she dared not say so; she could only
+appeal to Edna's generosity, and beg her to consider that she owed a
+duty to her brother. But she could not say much on this point. A girl
+cannot well enter the lists on a young man's behalf; however sensible
+and free from nonsense she may be, she is bound by a sense of
+conventionality; and though in her heart Bessie was very sorry for
+Richard, very much interested in his behalf, she felt her pity must be
+kept to herself.
+
+Bessie was not ashamed to own her disappointment, and she was human
+enough to bear a grudge against the offending Miss Shelton, who proved
+to be an old governess of Edna's, and a most worthy woman.
+
+In consequence of Edna's temporary indisposition, which made her languid
+in the morning, the family breakfast was unusually late, and was rarely
+ready before ten. It was Bessie's habit, therefore, to go out, after an
+early cup of cocoa, for an hour's solitary walk; she enjoyed this more
+than any other part of the day. The Parade was almost deserted at the
+time, and she met few people. She loved to stroll down to the beach and
+watch the waves rolling on the shore; the cold, fresh air invigorated
+her, and her old color returned. Her mother would have been at rest
+about her if she could have seen the girl's strong, elastic step, or
+noticed how the sea breezes had brought back her fresh color. Bessie
+would return from these morning walks with refreshed spirits and
+vigorous, youthful appetite that Edna good-naturedly quizzed.
+
+"You would be hungry, too, if you had swallowed those delicious sea
+breezes," Bessie would answer, nothing daunted by these remarks, and she
+persevered in these early strolls.
+
+The morning after their little conversation about Richard, Bessie went
+out as usual. There had been rain during the night, and the seats on the
+Parade were soaking, but the sun was shining now, and the little pools
+in the road were sparkling in the warm sunlight, and the sea looked
+clear and blue.
+
+"What a delicious morning," thought Bessie, as she walked on briskly.
+"There is rather a strong wind, though. Oh, that gentleman has lost his
+hat!" The gentleman in question had been leaning on the railings,
+looking down on some boys playing on the shingle; but as his hat took to
+itself wings, and rolled playfully down the Parade, after the manner of
+hats, he followed it in quick pursuit. Happily, it rolled almost to
+Bessie's feet, and she captured it.
+
+"Thank you so much," observed the young man, gratefully; but as Bessie
+held it to him with a smile, they mutually started, and a simultaneous
+exclamation rose to their lips.
+
+"Mr. Sinclair!"
+
+"Miss Lambert!" and then rather awkwardly they shook hands. "Who would
+have thought of seeing you here?" went on Mr. Sinclair, rather
+nervously, as he brushed the wet from his hat. "But of course one meets
+every one at Brighton, so I ought not to be surprised. I only came down
+last night, and I have already exchanged greetings with half a dozen
+acquaintances. Have you been here long?"
+
+"About ten days. I am staying with the Sefton's at Glenyan Mansions.
+Mrs. Sefton and Edna are both here."
+
+"Edna here?" and then he bit his lip, and a dark flush crossed his face.
+"I hope Miss Sefton is quite well," he continued coldly.
+
+"Indeed she is not," returned Bessie bluntly. But this sudden encounter
+had taken her by surprise, and she hardly knew what she was saying. "She
+is very far from well. Oh, quite ill, I should say; though she will have
+it that there is nothing the matter. But she is so changed that she is
+hardly like the same girl. Oh, no; she is perfectly different; not like
+Edna at all, and----"
+
+"What has been the matter with her?" he asked abruptly; but he turned
+his face away as he put the question. They were both standing by the
+railings, and now he crossed his arms upon them, leaning heavily against
+them, so that Bessie could not see his face. There was no one in sight,
+except the boys playing beneath them, and an old man hobbling on
+crutches. "What has been the matter with her?" he repeated, as Bessie
+hesitated.
+
+"She caught cold, and could not shake it off, and so her mother got
+frightened about her, and brought her here. But it does not seem to do
+her much good. It is her spirits, I think, for she has lost all her fun,
+and she is not at all like the old Edna, and it grieves me to see her,"
+stammered Bessie, confused at having said so much, and yet not willing
+to be silent. "What can I say? What ought I to do for them both?" she
+thought, in much distress.
+
+"There has never been anything wrong with her spirits before," replied
+Mr. Sinclair, in rather an incredulous tone. But Bessie had caught sight
+of his face; it was quite pale now, and he was pulling his mustache
+nervously, and she was not a bit deceived by his voice. "Do you mean
+that she is not happy? I hope--that is--I trust nothing has occurred to
+trouble her."
+
+"Nothing fresh. Oh, Mr. Sinclair!" and here Bessie burst out, regardless
+of conventionality, of probable consequences, of everything but her
+honest heart. "Why do you not understand what it is that ails Edna? If
+you do not know, no one can--no one--no one;" and then, frightened at
+her own audacity, Bessie colored up to her forehead and walked on; but
+Mr. Sinclair was by her side the next moment.
+
+"Don't go, Miss Lambert. Please do not leave me yet. Tell me plainly
+what it is you mean. You are Edna's friend, and I know you will be true
+to her. You have a good heart. I see in your eyes that you are sorry for
+me; do not be afraid to speak out. Why am I to know what is the matter
+with Edna?"
+
+"That is a strange question for you to ask; surely you know Edna well
+enough to be aware how deeply she can repent of her faults!"
+
+"Do you mean--speak plainly, I beseech you; do you--can you mean that
+Edna repents of her cruel treatment of me?"
+
+"Repents! Of course she has repented. Mr. Sinclair, you were very wrong
+to leave her. Why did you take her at her word? It was all temper; her
+pride was piqued because she believed herself distrusted. I know Edna so
+well; in spite of her faults, she is true and generous. When she loves,
+she loves once and forever; if she sent you away, she has been sorry for
+it ever since. What must you think of me for telling you this? I am so
+ignorant of the world, most likely I have acted foolishly, but it seems
+to me that truth is everything."
+
+"I think that you have acted nobly, Miss Lambert; you have made me your
+debtor for life, if this be true;" and then he stopped and passed his
+hand across his forehead, as though the sudden relief had bewildered
+him. "Oh, thank God!" she heard him say, as though to himself.
+
+"It is true."
+
+"I will believe it; I can trust you; my good angel brought me out this
+morning. The last seven months have not been the happiest time in my
+existence. I had my own trouble to bear, and then my mother fell ill. I
+thought I should have lost her, but I was spared that; still, her life
+hangs on a thread. I am afraid from your deep mourning that you have
+been in trouble, too, Miss Lambert."
+
+"I have lost a dear sister."
+
+"That is sad; but you have other sisters left to comfort you."
+
+"Yes; three."
+
+"I had no one but my mother and Edna; I should have been lonely indeed.
+But now I must not keep you standing any longer; the wind is cold, and
+you are beginning to look tired."
+
+"Yes, and breakfast will be ready; I must not be late."
+
+"Is Sefton with you?" he asked suddenly.
+
+"No; he is at Oatlands; he is not coming until Saturday week."
+
+"I am sorry to hear it; he would have helped me in a great difficulty.
+Sefton has always been my friend. Miss Lambert, I confess I don't
+clearly see my way. I can hardly present myself at Glenyan Mansions, and
+yet how am I to see Edna? If we could only meet, as it were,
+accidentally, it would be better for both of us."
+
+"I see what you mean," returned Bessie, whose ready sympathy made her
+quick to detect his meaning "Edna is very proud; you think it would be
+wiser to leave her in ignorance of this interview. Yes, you are right;
+there must be some other way;" and then, after a moment's consideration,
+she added, "There is a fancy bazaar at the Pavilion this afternoon; some
+friends of the Sefton's are stall-holders, and we are all going; every
+one will be there; why should you not go too?"
+
+"Thank you," was all he said; but his face brightened perceptibly, and
+then in an eager tone: "What time will you go?"
+
+"Mrs. Sefton said she should order the carriage at half-past three, so I
+suppose we shall be there about a quarter to four. The Crawfords' stall
+is at the end of the room, and Minnie and Eleanor Crawford are to be
+dressed in sacques and hoops, with powdered hair, in the fashion of
+George III.'s time. Edna is very anxious to see their stall in its first
+glory, before there is a rush of buyers."
+
+"You have made me your friend for life," he said lightly. "I must not go
+any farther, for I see the windows of Glenyan Mansions;" and then he
+shook hands with her, and quietly retraced his steps to his hotel.
+
+"I wonder if mother would be shocked," thought Bessie. "I think I should
+have been shocked myself under any other circumstances; but when I
+thought of poor Edna, and saw him looking so pale and grave, I felt I
+must help them both. Was it very forward of me? Have I betrayed Edna's
+confidence? But, no; I found it all out for myself; surely, no one could
+blame me for speaking the truth. If Mr. Richard were here, I would ask
+him. Truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, after all. One
+cannot be wrong if only one be absolutely true."
+
+Bessie found it very difficult to preserve her ordinary demeanor that
+morning. The consciousness that she had a secret oppressed her, but
+neither Mrs. Sefton nor Edna seemed to notice any difference in her
+manner. Edna looked languid and depressed, and seemed to have lost all
+interest in the bazaar. She alarmed Bessie in the course of the morning
+by saying that, after all, she did not care to mix with such a crowd.
+
+"Oh, Edna, I shall be so disappointed if we do not go!" exclaimed
+Bessie.
+
+"My dear, I was not talking about you," replied Edna wearily. "Mamma
+will go, of course, and you can accompany her; but I am sick of bazaars,
+and the noise and chatter will make my head ache. You may take my purse,
+Bessie, and buy something of Minnie and Eleanor;" and Edna threw down
+her work and began looking over the batch of novels that her mother had
+sent in from the circulating library, leaving Bessie to digest her
+dismay and disappointment as well as she could.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+BESSIE BUYS A JAPANESE FAN.
+
+
+Edna continued in this unsatisfactory mood until luncheon. Nothing
+pleased her. The novels were stupid. She was tired of love tales--why
+could not people find something else to write about? She was sick of
+such namby-pamby sentimentality; and then they were so untrue to life.
+Stories in real life did not always end happily, or there would not be
+so many old maids in the world.
+
+"Single women, Edna; I like that term ever so much better."
+
+"No; old maids," persisted Edna, obstinately; "cross, cranky old maids."
+
+"Old maids, as you call them (and you are very rude to a lot of good,
+nice women, Edna), are not necessarily cross and cranky; the unmarried
+women I know are all busy, cheerful creatures, full of life and energy,
+and very useful in their generation. Father says he always enjoys a talk
+with an unmarried lady; so many of them keep their freshness and youth,
+even though they have wrinkles on their faces. I know some of them get
+soured and narrow, but perhaps they have had much to try them."
+
+"Bessie, I do believe you will be an old maid yourself, some day."
+
+"Your prophecy does not frighten me in the least If I am to be an old
+maid, I mean to be a very happy one. You know, Edna, how often I have
+talked to you of my dear Mr. Robertson. Well, he said something on this
+subject in one of his sermons that pleased me very much. I remember dear
+Hatty liked it too. I cannot recollect the exact words, but it was to
+this effect--that much of our happiness depends on the way we look on
+life; that if we regard it as a complete and finished existence, then no
+doubt those who fail in their aims are disappointed and discontented. In
+this the unmarried and childless woman, and the widow who has lost her
+treasure, will be agreed; but if we regard our present existence as only
+a prelude to a better--as an education, a training for a high and
+happier sphere--then the disappointed may take heart, for they have only
+come to the beginning of their life, and may surely wait with some
+degree of patience until a future life expands their happiness. Grown-up
+people do not want their sugar-plums all at once, as children do--don't
+you see it, Edna?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I know what you good people mean." But she spoke with a
+degree of pettishness. "But I have not climbed as high as you, and I
+shall be a shriveled, cantankerous old maid."
+
+"You will be nothing of the kind," replied Bessie, kissing her. "But
+luncheon is ready, and here comes your mother; pray, don't say anything
+to her about not going to the Pavilion, or she will be so disappointed;
+she never enjoys anything without you." And to her great relief Edna
+acquiesced.
+
+Mrs. Sefton talked a great deal about the bazaar during luncheon. The
+Tozers and Lady Hampton were going, and she had heard that Minnie
+Crawford's costume was perfect, and suited her admirably.
+
+"I suppose I had better go and get ready," observed Edna, pushing back
+her chair, "or mamma will never survive the disappointment. The carriage
+will be here at half-past three." And she marched out of the room with
+rather a bored expression on her face.
+
+"Nothing pleases her," complained Mrs. Sefton; "she seems tired of
+everything. I believe she is only going to the bazaar because she thinks
+it will give me pleasure; and the crowd and hot room will make her ill.
+Run after her, Bessie, and beg her not to go. You and I will do very
+well together, and we can choose something pretty for her off the
+Crawford's stall. I would rather she did not go, I would indeed."
+
+"It will do her good," pleaded Bessie; "the room will not be crowded
+just at first, and it will be such a pretty sight. She would be dull if
+we left her at home and the drive will refresh her."
+
+"Do you think so?" returned Mrs. Sefton doubtfully. "But I am beginning
+to lose heart; nothing we can do seems to please her. I believe she is
+getting tired of Brighton; last night she said she wished we were at
+home; but Oatlands is far too quiet for her. I think I shall take rooms
+in town for the season, and afterward we will go abroad. The Crawford's
+are going to the Engadine, and they are lively young people, and their
+society will be good for Edna. Perhaps," looking at Bessie wistfully,
+"your mother might be induced to spare you, and we could take you with
+us. You have never seen Switzerland, Bessie?"
+
+"No, none of us have ever been abroad. Oh, it would be too delightful!"
+but as Bessie went off smiling to get ready for the drive, she told
+herself that any Swiss journey would be very dubious. "That is one of
+the things one has to long for all one's life," thought Bessie, "one of
+the denied good things that are to come presently."
+
+Edna came down to the carriage looking quite bright and pretty; she was
+no longer in a misanthropic mood, the mere exertion of dressing to
+please her mother had done her a world of good. It was a brilliant
+afternoon and already groups of well-dressed people were moving in the
+direction of the Pavilion. "There are the Tozers, mamma!" she exclaimed
+beginning to look interested; "and there is Lady Hampton in that
+victoria; she has her old bonnet on; what a dear old dowdy she is! I
+tell you what, Bessie, I mean to dress well, even when I am a cranky old
+maid; there is a great support in clothes--and--no, it can't be----"
+
+"Well, finish your sentence," observed Bessie. "Have you seen a ghost,
+Edna?" laughing rather nervously, for Edna had changed color in a
+singular manner.
+
+"No, only a likeness; but of course I was mistaken;" but, all the same,
+Bessie knew that Edna had really seen Mr. Sinclair, however much she
+might doubt the evidence of her eyes. She had caught a glimpse of him,
+too--he was on his way to the Pavilion with the other people.
+
+Edna did not recover herself in a hurry; she looked white and shaken;
+the likeness must have been a strong one, and brought back the past too
+vividly. Bessie glanced at her anxiously. Certainly, Edna's looks
+verified her words. Mr. Sinclair would read the truth for himself. They
+had arrived at the Pavilion now, and Mrs. Sefton and Edna were already
+exchanging greetings with their friends.
+
+"Does it not look like a picture of Vanity Fair?" she whispered, when
+they at last made their way into the bazaar.
+
+Well, it was a curious sight, certainly; a young man with powdered hair,
+in a blue velvet coat, offered them programmes of the entertainment; a
+little Moorish girl, with a necklace of gold coins, showed them her
+flower-basket, and a stately Queen Elizabeth smiled at Edna across the
+counter. A harlequin and a cavalier mounted guard over the post-office,
+and a gypsy presided over a fish pond. Mary Stuart and a Greek lady were
+in charge of the refreshment stall. It was a relief when the band struck
+up one of Strauss' waltzes, and drowned the din of voices; but as the
+sad, sweet strains of "Verliebt und Verloren" floated through the room,
+a pained expression crossed Edna's face.
+
+A moment later Bessie felt her arm grasped, and Edna whispered
+excitedly:
+
+"Look, Bessie; is it my fancy--that gentleman standing by the
+flower-stall--is it----"
+
+"Yes, it is Mr. Sinclair," returned Bessie calmly. "Oh, he sees us now;
+he is coming to speak to us. Dear Edna, please don't look so pale over
+it; you surely do not mind seeing him."
+
+But Edna was beyond answering; there was not an atom of color in her
+face as Mr. Sinclair came up to them and lifted his hat.
+
+It was very odd that just at that minute Bessie was seized with an
+uncontrollable longing to become the possessor of a Japanese fan. It was
+excessively dear and excessively ugly, and the young person in the
+Catherine de Medicis ruff who was in charge of that part of the stall
+was otherwise engaged; nevertheless, Bessie would not give up her point.
+Mrs. Sefton was on the other side of the room, talking to Lady Hampton;
+and though it was clearly Bessie's duty to remain with Edna, she was
+perfectly blind to the fact; she did not even wait to greet Mr.
+Sinclair, but turned her back on him in the rudest manner, and kept her
+eyes on the gaudy specimen of Japanese art.
+
+It was ten minutes before the coveted article was in her possession, and
+even then the stall seemed to fascinate her, and she was just making up
+her mind that a certain little blue vase would please Christine when
+Mrs. Sefton touched her arm.
+
+"My dear child, why have you hidden yourself? and what has become of
+Edna?"
+
+"Edna?" looking round; but there was clearly no vestige of her, or of
+Mr. Sinclair either. It was easy to escape detection in that crowd. "She
+was here just now. Mr. Sinclair was with her, and----"
+
+"Neville here!" in intense surprise.
+
+"Yes; and Edna seemed rather upset at seeing him, and so I left them."
+
+"You have taken my breath away," exclaimed Mrs. Sefton. "Oh, Bessie, do
+you think---- Come and let me sit down somewhere; my sight-seeing is
+over What did he say to her? How did they meet? Did he speak first?"
+
+"Don't ask me; I know nothing," replied Bessie, with an odd little
+laugh. "She pointed him out to me, and asked if it were her fancy; and
+then he saw us, and Edna looked very white, and he held out his hand and
+said something; and then there was that Japanese fan, and of course, I
+heard nothing more."
+
+"You left them. That was right; you were very sensible, my dear."
+
+"Let me tell you everything," said Bessie, feeling burdened by her
+secret. "I have seen Mr. Sinclair before; I met him on the Parade, and
+it was I who told him to come here." And she related the purport of her
+conversation with him.
+
+Mrs Sefton seemed much moved. "It will come right;" she said, in an
+agitated voice. "My poor child will be happy again. Bessie, I cannot
+tell you how grateful I am to you. I love Neville like a son. It is the
+wish of my heart to see Edna his wife. He has brilliant prospects. He is
+a rising man, and immensely clever; and Edna will never care for any one
+else."
+
+Bessie forgave this worldly speech on account of the motherly tone in
+which it was said.
+
+"He must have taken her away; they are certainly not in this room," she
+said bye and bye. "Perhaps they are in the gardens; they will be quieter
+there."
+
+"Never mind, we will not look for them. You must amuse yourself, Bessie,
+until they come of their own accord. Suppose we buy something at the
+Crawfords' stall. I want you to choose something pretty for each of your
+sisters. Throw that hideous fan away! It is not worth sixpence. Where
+did you pick up such an ugly thing?"
+
+"It was the first handy article," replied Bessie. "Throw it away! No
+indeed! I shall keep it forever as a memento of this day."
+
+But Mrs. Sefton, in high good-humor, vowed that she should have a
+prettier remembrance of the day than that. A few minutes afterward she
+put a lovely little work-case in Bessie's hands. It was fitted up very
+tastefully, and was really a most useful present; and then she proceeded
+to select work-bags and pretty knick-knacks for the Lambert girls.
+
+Bessie remonstrated in vain. Mrs. Sefton had come there to spend money,
+and she lavished one article after another on Bessie.
+
+"This soft white shawl will just suit your mother," she said. "And, oh!
+here is a pocketbook for Dr. Lambert. Your father will find that useful.
+Does your brother smoke? No? Well, we will buy that letter-case for him;
+and now I think we have finished."
+
+But it was quite half an hour afterward before the truants returned.
+
+"Here they come!" exclaimed Bessie, as Mrs. Sefton began to get
+restless.
+
+"Oh, mamma, dear, I hope we have not kept you," said Edna penitently;
+but she blushed very prettily as she spoke, and there was no mistaking
+the happy look in her eyes.
+
+"You must blame me, Mrs. Sefton," interrupted Mr. Sinclair, who also
+looked radiant. "There was such a crowd that I took Edna into the
+gardens, and we have been sitting quietly under the trees. I hope we
+have not really inconvenienced you and Miss Lambert."
+
+"Not a bit," replied Mrs. Sefton cheerfully. "But we may as well go home
+now, as Bessie and I have made all our purchases. Will you see if the
+carriage be there, Neville?"
+
+"Neville is coming back with us, mamma," observed Edna, in her old
+bright manner; and then Mrs. Sefton looked at her meaningly. Just then
+the band struck up with a military march, and Bessie lost Edna's low
+answer. There was nothing particular said during the drive home. Mr.
+Sinclair observed he must go to his hotel to dress, and Edna questioned
+Bessie about her purchases.
+
+When they reached Glenyan Mansions, Edna shut herself up with her
+mother, and Bessie went off to her own room and inspected her treasures,
+and then she dressed herself and sat down to read. Bye and bye there
+was a knock at the door, and Edna came in; she looked perfectly lovely
+with that soft look of happiness on her face.
+
+"May I come in, Bessie? Mamma is talking to Neville in the drawing-room,
+and I can spare you a few minutes. Neville has told me everything. He
+says it is you who smoothed the way for our meeting and reconciliation.
+Bessie, darling, how am I to thank you?" and Edna wrapped her arms round
+her and kissed her fondly.
+
+"It is all right, then?"
+
+"It was all right the moment I saw him; he just looked at me, and said,
+'I wonder if you are glad or sorry to see me, Edna?' and I managed to
+gasp out the word 'Glad!' And then he took my hand and asked me to come
+out of the crowd, and let him talk to me quietly. It seemed to me we
+understood each other at once."
+
+"Dear Edna, I congratulate you from my heart."
+
+"Yes, and it is all owing to you; we shall neither of us forget that.
+Bessie, you don't half know how good Neville is, how gentle and generous
+he has been. He would not let me humble myself, or ask for his
+forgiveness. But, oh, he has been so unhappy! His mother has been nearly
+dying, poor fellow, and I never knew it; and even now her health is in a
+critical state. It is so sad for him, for he dotes on her, and they are
+everything to each other. He says if it had happened, and he had not
+had me to comfort him, it would almost have broken his heart."
+
+"But he will have you now."
+
+"Yes, and it must be my one thought to make up to him for these wretched
+seven months. Do you know, Bessie, he seems more distressed about me
+than about himself. He says I am quite altered, so thin and pale. He
+said it so gravely that I asked him if I had grown too plain for his
+taste; but there--I don't mean to repeat his answer."
+
+"He will soon find out that you are as vain as ever."
+
+"I actually told him so, for he was so depressed at my changed
+appearance that I had to make one or two mischievous speeches just to
+rouse him, and that did him good; he punished me, though, by pointing
+out some of his gray hairs; but he has really grown handsomer, Bessie.
+Mamma said so, too, though Neville was never really handsome. Poor
+mamma! she is so happy, she has been crying for joy."
+
+The dinner-bell rang at that moment, and they were obliged to break off
+their talk. Mr. Sinclair had evidently found Edna's absence irksome, for
+he met her with a reproach at her delay; but she answered him so sweetly
+that he was mollified in a moment.
+
+It was the happiest evening Bessie had had since Hatty's death; it was
+such a relief to see Edna's face bright with smiles, and to hear the
+satisfied tones of her voice, and to meet the quiet look of content on
+Mr. Sinclair's face. He was not a demonstrative man, and a stranger
+would hardly have thought his manner lover-like, but it was evident that
+he and Edna understood each other perfectly. After dinner he asked her
+to sing for him, and she went to the piano at once.
+
+"This is your favorite song, Neville," she said, looking at him quietly,
+and a flush of pleasure crossed his face. If he had ever doubted the
+reality of her affection for him, he could not have doubted it to-night,
+when every moment her gentleness and soft, appealing manner seemed to
+plead for forgetfulness of the past, and to hold out a safer promise for
+the future.
+
+"I must come and see your mother," Bessie heard her say later on. "Mamma
+thinks of taking rooms for the season, and then I shall see her often;
+shall you like that, Neville?"
+
+"There is only one thing I should like better," he replied, and there
+was a smile on his face as he got up and wished them good-night; and
+then he said something in a low voice to Edna.
+
+"Very well," she answered, with a bend of her graceful head, and she
+rose from her seat and walked to the door.
+
+Mrs. Sefton looked after them with an indulgent smile.
+
+"He wants a word with her alone; Edna won't refuse him anything
+to-night. How happy they are, Bessie! Dear Neville is so satisfied; he
+told me that he was struck with the improvement in Edna; he thinks her
+so much more womanly and so gentle, but he is troubled about her
+delicacy; but she will get better now all this worry is at an end." And
+Bessie acquiesced in this.
+
+When Edna came back, a little while afterward, she went straight to her
+mother and knelt down by her chair.
+
+"Mother dear," she said, tenderly, "Neville has forgiven me, and you
+must forgive me, too."
+
+"I forgive you my darling!" in a startled tone.
+
+"Yes, for being such a bad daughter; but I will be good; indeed, I will
+be good now;" and, worn out with the emotions of the day, Edna laid her
+head on her mother's lap and burst into tears.
+
+Bessie, touched to the heart by this little display of feeling, went
+softly out of the room, and left the mother and child together.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+MRS. SEFTON HAS ANOTHER VISITOR.
+
+
+It was impossible for Neville Sinclair to tear himself away from
+Brighton for another twenty-four hours, so he telegraphed to his mother
+and made arrangements to take another day's holiday. He settled this
+before he slept that night, and presented himself at Glenyan Mansions
+long before the late breakfast was over. He and Bessie exchanged an
+amused glance as they shook hands, which was instantly detected by Edna,
+and she at once insisted on an explanation.
+
+Mr. Sinclair laughed mischievously.
+
+"The fact is," he said, "Miss Lambert and I have met before this
+morning;" which was the truth, for Bessie had encountered him coming out
+of his hotel, and they had spent a pleasant hour together talking about
+many things; and this conversation had raised Mr. Sinclair very much in
+Bessie's estimation, and her interest was warmly reciprocated.
+
+"You have never had a friend I liked so well as I do Miss Lambert," he
+said, as he and Edna were walking together. "She is a genuine
+girl--absolutely true, and without any pretense or nonsense."
+
+"Daisy is a dear little thing, and I am as fond of her as possible. I am
+so glad you like her, Neville," and Edna looked very pleased.
+
+Mr. Sinclair left on the following morning, and in the afternoon Miss
+Shelton arrived. She was a pleasant-looking woman, with a tranquil face
+and silvery-gray hair, and Bessie was prepossessed in her favor at once.
+She was evidently warmly attached to her old pupil, and the news of her
+reconciliation with her lover filled her with unbounded satisfaction,
+and her congratulations were very hearty.
+
+"I have lived a great many years in the world," she said, "but I have
+never seen two better young men than Mr. Sinclair and Mr. Richard."
+
+They were sitting round the fire in the twilight as Miss Shelton made
+this little speech; they had come in from their drive half an hour ago;
+the tea things had just been taken away, and Edna was sitting on the rug
+at Miss Shelton's feet.
+
+"They are both admirable," she murmured; and this encomium on the absent
+Richard gratified Bessie.
+
+"I don't think they are to be compared," observed Mrs. Sefton, rather
+superciliously. "My dear Miriam, Neville is infinitely superior. Richard
+has not got Neville's brains."
+
+"Cleverness is not everything," replied Miss Shelton. "I respect Mr.
+Sinclair, and have the highest opinion of his abilities; but Mr. Richard
+has always been a favorite of mine. Very few people guess how much he
+has in him; but I found it out myself a long time ago."
+
+"You and Ritchie were always good friends, dear Miss Shelton. Hush! I
+hear some one in the corridor; it cannot be Neville come back;" and Edna
+sprung up from her low seat with a heightened color; but as the door
+opened her voice fell. "No, it is only Ritchie," in a disappointed tone.
+
+"Whom were you expecting, Edna?" asked her brother, advancing toward the
+fireside circle. "Your tone does not sound very promising for me.
+Mother, you see I have taken you by surprise. Miss Shelton, I am
+delighted to see you again. How do you do, Miss Lambert?" with a swift
+glance in her direction.
+
+Bessie greeted him quietly, and went back to her corner; the surprise
+was a very pleasant one for her. Richard looked well, and more animated
+than usual.
+
+"I thought we arranged that you were not to come until to-morrow week,
+Richard," observed Mrs. Sefton, in her usual cold manner: and it was
+evident that she was not pleased at her stepson's arrival. "I told you
+particularly Miss Shelton was coming this week."
+
+"Oh, yes, I knew Miss Shelton would be here; but Saturday week would not
+have suited me at all. I don't mean to put you out, mother. I have taken
+a room at the Grand Hotel. I can have my meals there, too, if you like."
+
+"Nonsense, Ritchie!" returned Edna, good-humoredly; "our dining-room is
+not so small as that. You may have your breakfast at your hotel, and
+then spend the rest of the day with us. Miss Shelton will be delighted
+to have you; she was singing your praises just now."
+
+"I saw Neville in town this afternoon," observed Richard, with a
+significant glance at his sister. "'All's well that ends well,' eh,
+Edna? So the comedy of errors is played out."
+
+"Come into the other room and I will tell you all about it," replied
+Edna, taking hold of his arm in a friendly fashion. "Mamma, I suppose
+there is enough dinner for Richard, but I don't mean to let him go
+away."
+
+"Neither do I mean to go," added Richard, with a laugh, as he allowed
+himself to be led out of the room.
+
+"How well he looks! older and nicer, I think," observed Miss Shelton, as
+the young people left the room.
+
+"Do you think so?" replied Mrs. Sefton, indifferently. "Richard is
+always terribly boorish in appearance; and as to his manners, nothing
+will polish them. But what can you expect, when he affects the company
+of farmers? Neville is worth a hundred of him," she continued, as she
+rose, with a discontented expression, to give some further orders.
+
+Miss Shelton shook her head in a disapproving fashion.
+
+"What a mistake," she said quietly, "always to undervalue that poor boy!
+I am glad to see Edna is improved in that respect. He is a great
+favorite of mine, Miss Lambert. I found out he had a kind heart when I
+was in trouble once. As Edna says, we are great friends."
+
+"He is very nice," agreed Bessie, and then she went to her room to
+prepare for dinner. Yes, she was very glad he had come, though the sight
+of his familiar face had brought back the memory of that last sad day at
+The Grange. They had not met for seven months; how much had happened
+since then!
+
+But when the evening was over, she was obliged to confess that it had
+somehow disappointed her. Richard had said very little to her. Miss
+Shelton had engrossed his conversation; he hardly looked in Bessie's
+direction.
+
+When dinner was over, and Edna went to the piano, he placed himself
+beside her; but he did not ask Bessie to sing. She sat at her work, and
+tried to think that she was enjoying herself, but she felt left out in
+the cold; she missed the old friendliness in Richard's manner; she
+wondered why he did not ask about her home. Could a few months have
+cooled his friendship? When she bade him good-night he hardly looked at
+her; he shook hands far more cordially with Miss Shelton.
+
+Bessie felt chilled and depressed, for she was a faithful little soul,
+and was true to all her likes and dislikes; fickleness to her friends
+was not in her nature; if she liked a person she liked him or her
+always.
+
+"It is very strange, very disappointing. I think I would rather he had
+not come," she thought; "but perhaps he will be nicer to-morrow;" and
+with this vague hope she fell asleep.
+
+The next morning she was out at her usual time, and, as before, the
+crisp morning air seemed to dispel all uneasy thoughts; she felt
+brighter, more sanguine and cheerful than she had last night. Nature
+holds a store of comfort for those who love and seek her--she has all
+sorts of balmy messages to give them; a thousand mellow influences steal
+upon the jaded consciousness; hope is written legibly in the blue sky,
+the clear air, the sunshine; every flower, every leaf is a token of
+love; the birds sing, and, in spite of ourselves, our hearts grow
+lighter.
+
+"It must have been my fancy," thought Bessie; "I hope I am not growing
+self-conscious;" and then she gave a little start of surprise, for
+surely she knew that brown tweed coat, and there was Richard coming to
+meet her; and it was with his old pleasant smile that he greeted her.
+
+"What a lovely morning, Miss Lambert! I knew you would be out." He had
+expected her then. "Miss Shelton is an early riser, too, but she never
+walks before breakfast. I wanted to find you alone, and to tell you that
+I was at Cliffe the day before yesterday."
+
+"At Cliffe?" And Bessie raised her clear eyes to his with such intense
+surprise that Richard laughed a little nervously.
+
+"I had some business there," he began awkwardly, "and I wanted to see
+your father. I saw them all," hesitating, "except your brother--he has
+gone back to Oxford; they were very well, and sent their love."
+
+"And you saw mother?"
+
+"Yes; what a nice woman she is! I like her so much, and your father too;
+they were very kind--kinder than I expected. You are a little like your
+mother--at least, I saw a sort of likeness. I never felt more at home
+anywhere."
+
+"I am so glad;" and Bessie did look glad. He was quite like himself this
+morning; she had got her friend back again. "Did father send me no
+other message?" she asked presently.
+
+"No, I believe not; at least, I have no recollection of a message. Miss
+Lambert," and here Richard's manner was decidedly nervous, "don't you
+wonder what my business was at Cliffe?"
+
+"Why, no," she said, so frankly and innocently that in spite of his
+nervousness Richard could not restrain a smile. "I suppose there was
+something you wanted."
+
+"Yes, indeed," he replied promptly, for this remark helped him; "and I
+wanted it so much that I was obliged to apply to your father."
+
+"Could father help you?" much astonished at this.
+
+"He helped me a great deal. I should not be speaking to you now but for
+him. Miss Lambert--Bessie--can't you guess? It is so hard for me to
+bring it out. Can't you guess what it was I wanted from your father? I
+have never wanted anything so much in my life."
+
+Richard's manner grew so earnest and imploring, that an idea of his
+meaning flashed across her with a suddenness that made her giddy; but
+she only said very gravely:
+
+"I cannot understand unless you speak out."
+
+"May I speak out, then--may I tell you plainly what I want? It is
+yourself, Bessie;" and, in spite of his nervousness, Richard spoke a
+few forcible words, very eloquent from their intense earnestness. "I
+have cared for you all this time, but I would not obtrude myself on your
+trouble; I thought it better to wait."
+
+"It was very kind, very thoughtful of you," replied Bessie, in a low
+voice. And then she added, shyly: "This is all new to me. I never
+expected this, Mr. Sefton."
+
+"I was afraid not, from your manner; but, Bessie, for my sake you will
+think of it now. We have been friends, and now you have grown necessary
+to my happiness. I have been very lonely all these years; I shall be
+lonelier than ever if you cannot bring yourself to love me." His voice
+was so sad that the tears came to Bessie's eyes. She longed to comfort
+him; but how was she to be sure of her own mind?
+
+"Will you give me a little time, a few hours to think of it?" she said
+at last. "It will not be right to answer you now. Do my mother and
+father know about this?"
+
+"Yes," he returned eagerly, for her words filled him with hope; she had
+not repulsed him, and her manner, though confused, was as gentle as
+ever. "They quite approved. You see, I knew you so well that I would not
+have ventured to speak to you without their sanction."
+
+"You were right," she said softly; and then she looked at him in a
+beseeching way that made Richard say:
+
+"You would like me to leave you alone for a little, would you not?"
+
+"If you please--that is, if you do not mind."
+
+"I will go, then. But, Bessie, you will be here to-morrow morning?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I will be content with that promise, then," and Richard lifted his hat
+and moved away, and Bessie went home.
+
+Breakfast was ready when she arrived, and she took her place at once,
+and made an effort to talk as usual. Once Edna made a remark about
+Richard.
+
+"I have promised to drive him over the downs," she said. "Bessie, Miss
+Shelton wants to do some shopping; do you mind taking charge of her for
+the morning?"
+
+"Certainly not," replied Bessie, who would have given worlds to be
+quiet; but she could not refuse Edna. She was afraid, however, that Miss
+Shelton found her a stupid companion; every now and then her attention
+wandered; she was conscious that a grave decision, one that would affect
+her whole life, was hanging in the balance; she had promised Richard to
+think about it, but no such thought seemed possible.
+
+"I am tiring you out, my dear," observed Miss Shelton at last, "and it
+must be nearly luncheon time. I dare say Edna has returned from her
+drive."
+
+Yes, Edna was standing in the window when they entered, but Richard was
+not with her.
+
+"Ritchie said he would lunch at his hotel," she observed; "and he is
+going over to Lewes this afternoon, and may be late for dinner; and in
+that case he will have a chop somewhere, as he does not want us to wait
+for him."
+
+"He will come in afterward, I suppose," replied Miss Shelton; but Bessie
+said to herself that he would do no such thing. How thoughtful he was
+for her comfort! He was staying away purposely, that his presence might
+not confuse her; and Bessie felt grateful to him for the delicacy that
+shielded and spared her.
+
+The afternoon was not much better than the morning. Edna carried off
+Miss Shelton to the Aquarium, and left Bessie to drive with her mother;
+and as Mrs. Sefton was very talkative and in excellent spirits, Bessie
+had to maintain her share of the conversation. They found visitors on
+their return, and Bessie had to pour out the tea, and help entertain
+them, as Edna was tired from her exertions.
+
+As she had predicted, Richard never made his appearance at all, although
+Miss Shelton and Edna both expected him, and indulged in wondering
+comments on his prolonged absence. Bessie found her position unbearable
+at last, and she made an excuse to retire early to her room. She gave a
+sigh of relief when she closed the door.
+
+"At last I can think," she said to herself, as she drew her chair to the
+fire.
+
+How was she to answer Richard to-morrow? But even as she asked herself
+the question she knew she had her answer ready. True, he had taken her
+by surprise; she had never suspected that this was his meaning. Bessie's
+unconsciousness, her humble estimate of herself, had blinded her to the
+truth. She hardly knew herself how much he was to her until his words
+had broken the spell; but now there was no room for doubt. She respected
+him; he had claimed her sympathy long ago, and now he had won her love.
+
+"Oh, if only my Hatty knew!" were her last thoughts that night, after
+she had finished her thanksgiving for the new blessing that had come
+into her life; and though she was still tremulous and confused with
+happiness, she quieted herself with a few childlike prayers, and soon
+slept soundly.
+
+Bessie felt a little nervous as she left the house the next morning, but
+she tried not to think of herself. Richard was waiting for her on the
+Parade. One glance at him banished her nervousness; he looked pale and
+anxious, as though he had not slept, but he made an effort to smile as
+he held out his hand.
+
+"Is there any hope for me, Bessie?"
+
+"Yes," she said simply, as she left her hand in his; and Richard needed
+no further answer.
+
+It was a bright, peaceful hour that followed, as they walked side by
+side, looking at the shining sea and speaking of the dim future that lay
+before them.
+
+"I was afraid you were too good for me, Bessie," Richard said, bye and
+bye, when he had exhausted his gratitude a little. "Sometimes I used to
+lose hope. 'She will never care for such a rough fellow,' I often said
+to myself."
+
+"You must not speak against yourself now," returned Bessie shyly.
+
+"No, dear, for you have promised to take me just as I am, and that would
+make any fellow think more of himself. Bessie, you must not mind if my
+mother is not quite pleased at first; she is an ambitious woman, and her
+notions are very different from mine." Bessie did not answer for a
+moment, and her silence seemed to alarm Richard.
+
+"She is only my stepmother; I am my own master, Bessie."
+
+"Yes, I know," in a low voice. "I was thinking about that last night. I
+am afraid she will not like it, and it troubles me a little. We are not
+rich, and----"
+
+"What does that matter?" with a touch of impatience. "I thought you were
+free from that sort of nonsense, Bessie."
+
+"It does not matter to us," replied Bessie, with a slight emphasis on
+the "us" that was exquisite to Richard's ear. "I am only speaking of
+Mrs. Sefton; but she is not your own mother, and she has never made you
+happy, and she has no right to prevent you pleasing yourself."
+
+"That is spoken like a sensible girl. I must thank you for that speech.
+Your father said much the same thing to me. 'You are your own master,'
+he remarked, 'and your stepmother has no right to control your choice;
+but, knowing her as I do, she will not be pleased.'"
+
+"You will tell her as soon as possible, will you not--and Edna, too?"
+
+"I will tell them this morning. You must leave everything to me. You
+shall be subjected to no unpleasantness that I can prevent. And, Bessie,
+I am going to take you down to Cliffe. I have made my mind up to that."
+
+"Very well," she said, with a smile. And it was a new thing for Richard
+to assert himself and meet with no contradiction; and as he looked at
+the girl beside him, and met her clear, candid glance, his heart
+swelled within him for very gratitude.
+
+"It is getting late; we must go home now," observed Bessie, wondering a
+little at his sudden silence.
+
+"Yes, we will go home," he replied, rousing himself. "I was just
+thinking, dear, what life will mean to me when I have you beside me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+IN THE COOMBE WOODS.
+
+
+Breakfast was a more difficult affair than it had been on the preceding
+morning, and Edna, who was very quick-witted, soon saw there was
+something amiss with Bessie; but she was a kind-hearted girl, and she
+threw herself with such animation into the conversation that Bessie's
+silence was unnoticed.
+
+When the meal was finished Bessie withdrew to her room, and Edna would
+have followed her, but just then Richard came in, and begged her in a
+low voice to get rid of Miss Shelton for half an hour, as he wanted to
+speak to her and her mother; and then in a moment Edna guessed the
+truth.
+
+Bessie remained a long time alone. She had finished her letter to her
+mother, and had just taken up her work, before Edna came in search of
+her.
+
+Edna looked excited, and there were tears in her eyes as she kissed
+Bessie.
+
+"You naughty little thing!" she said, trying to laugh. "Who ever would
+have thought of you and Ritchie falling in love with each other? I
+don't think I have ever been more surprised in my life."
+
+"I was surprised, too," replied Bessie naively. "Dear Edna, are you very
+much shocked?"
+
+"Not at all. On the whole, I am very much pleased at the idea of having
+you as a sister. I fell in love with you myself, Bessie. I told Ritchie
+that, so I ought not to be so surprised that he has followed my example.
+I am not quite sure that he is good enough for you. I suppose you think
+he is," doubtfully.
+
+"Yes, indeed. It is I who am not good enough for him," replied Bessie,
+blushing, and looking so pretty that Edna hugged her again.
+
+"You are very kind to me, Edna, but I am afraid your mother will not be
+pleased about this;" and then Edna's face grew somewhat grave.
+
+"No, Bessie, she is not; and she is very hard upon poor Richard, as
+usual, and I had to take his part. Mamma is very proud, and that is why
+she approved so much of Neville, because he belongs to county people and
+is his uncle's heir. Neville will be terribly rich one day."
+
+"And I am poor!" in a troubled voice.
+
+"Yes, but Richard has plenty of money, and, as I tell mamma, I cannot
+see what that matters. You are a lady, Bessie; your mother is a perfect
+gentlewoman; and as for Dr. Lambert, mamma knows what he is--she cannot
+say a word against him. She says she is very fond of you personally, but
+all the same she does not want Richard to marry you. You see,"
+hesitating a little, "mamma will have to leave The Grange when Ritchie
+marries, and she does not like the idea of that; but, as Richard justly
+said, his father hoped he would marry early, and he had a right, like
+any other man, to take a wife when he wishes. Of course, mamma has not a
+grain of right on her side, but she chooses to be angry with Richard
+because he has been down to Cliffe and settled everything without
+reference to her; she says it is the way he always treats her."
+
+"I think I will go to your mother, Edna. Is--is your brother with her?"
+
+"Yes, I believe so; but they are not talking now. Ritchie sent me to
+you. Must you go, Bessie, dear? mamma will not be a bit nice to you."
+
+"I cannot help that; but I am as much to blame as your brother is, and I
+shall not leave him to bear the brunt of it all." And though Bessie
+looked a little pale as she said this, she carried out her resolve much
+to Mrs. Sefton's astonishment.
+
+Richard met her at once, and took her hand.
+
+"I have told my mother, Bessie," he said, in a clear, high voice that
+was a little defiant.
+
+"Yes, I know now, when everything is arranged," returned Mrs. Sefton, in
+an injured tone.
+
+"Dear Mrs. Sefton," said Bessie gently, "nothing was settled until this
+morning. Mr. Sefton took me by surprise yesterday, and I was hardly
+prepared. Indeed, I had no answer to give him until this morning, so not
+an hour has been lost."
+
+"My mother knows all that," interrupted Richard, "but I cannot convince
+her no offence is intended. Mother, I think you might give Bessie a
+kinder reception; she has promised to marry me, and I think my future
+wife should be treated with consideration and respect."
+
+"No, no; how can you talk so?" interrupted Bessie, for the young man
+spoke in a fiery manner. "Mrs. Sefton, please don't listen to him. You
+shall treat me as you will; but I shall always remember how good you
+have been to me. Of course you are not pleased with a poor girl like me;
+but you will be kind to me all the same--will you not? and I will try to
+follow all your wishes. It is not your son's fault either," very shyly,
+but trying to speak out bravely, "for he could not help caring for me, I
+suppose. Do, do try to forgive us both, and be kind to him." And here
+Bessie faltered and broke down.
+
+Nothing could have been better than Bessie's little impetuous speech.
+Mrs. Sefton was a proud, ambitious woman, but she was not wholly without
+feelings, and she had always been fond of Bessie. The girl's sweetness
+and humility, her absence of all assumption, the childlike way in which
+she threw herself upon her womanly kindness, touched Mrs. Sefton's cold
+heart, and she kissed the wet, flushed cheek.
+
+"Don't cry, Bessie. I suppose as things are settled we must just make
+the best of them. Richard put me out, and I said more than I meant. I
+was not pleased. I think I ought to have been consulted at least, not
+left so wholly in the dark."
+
+"I am very sorry, mother, but you have never invited my confidence,"
+replied Richard; but his lips quivered as he spoke.
+
+"Yes; but you will be kinder to him now," and Bessie looked imploringly
+at her; "indeed, he has always loved you, but you have repelled him so.
+Richard," very softly, "will you not tell your mother that you mean to
+be good to her?"
+
+Mrs. Sefton looked up, and her eyes met her stepson's. "It was not my
+fault, mother," he said, with suppressed emotion.
+
+Bessie thought that he was speaking of their engagement, but Richard's
+words conveyed a different meaning to his stepmother's ears. He was
+going back to the past. Again he saw himself a shy, nervous boy,
+standing before the proud, handsome girl who had just become his
+father's wife. "He can never be anything to me," he heard her say; and
+her low, bitter tones lingered long in his ears. "If I had known of his
+existence it might have been different; but now--" and she turned away
+with a gesture of dislike.
+
+"Ritchie, my boy, you must ask this lady to forgive us both," his father
+had observed, rather sadly.
+
+How well Richard remembered that little scene! the discomfited
+expression of his father's face; his own puzzled, childish feelings. All
+these years he had suffered the consequences of his father's rash act.
+"He can never be anything to me," she had said, and her words had come
+true.
+
+"Mother, it was not my fault," he said, looking into her eyes.
+
+And for the first time she quailed before that sad, reproachful gaze; it
+seemed to compel her to acknowledge the truth. "No, Richard; it was your
+father's; it was he who estranged us," she returned slowly. "I was not
+the woman to forgive deceit. I wish--I wish things could have been
+different."
+
+"They shall be different," he replied gently, "if you will have it so,
+mother; it is not too late yet;" and though she did not answer, and
+there was no response to that burst of generous feeling, there was
+something in her face that gave Richard hope; neither did she repulse
+him when he stooped over her and kissed her.
+
+"Try to make the best of me," he said; and Mrs. Sefton sighed, and left
+her hand in his.
+
+Richard took Bessie out with him after that. He was agitated and
+dispirited by the interview with his stepmother, and needed all the
+comfort Bessie could give him.
+
+"It is very hard to bear," were his first words, when he found himself
+alone with her.
+
+"Yes, it is very hard," she replied gently; "but you behaved so well it
+made me so proud to hear you;" and Richard felt a glow of satisfaction
+at her words.
+
+"You were beside me, helping me all the time," he said simply. "Bessie,
+if you only knew what it is to me to be sure of your sympathy. My little
+blessing, I think you were born to be a peacemaker. It was you who
+softened my mother's heart; before you came in she was so hard, and said
+such bitter things, and then I lost my temper, and----"
+
+"Do not go back to that," she said quietly. "Your mother was taken by
+surprise. She said herself that she spoke hastily. Let us give her time.
+She cannot alter her nature all at once. You have been very patient a
+long time, Richard; be patient still for my sake."
+
+"There is nothing I would not do for your sake," he replied; and Bessie
+was pleased to see him smile.
+
+After all, it was not difficult to comfort him; the cloud soon passed
+away from his face, and in a little while they were talking as happily
+together as though no unkind words had been said.
+
+They had a quiet, peaceful Sunday together, and then Richard went back
+to Oatlands, on the understanding that he was to return on Wednesday
+night and take Bessie down to Cliffe the next day.
+
+Bessie was not sorry to be left alone for two days to realize her own
+happiness; but, all the same, she was glad to welcome him back again on
+Wednesday, though she was secretly amused when Richard declared those
+two days of absence had been intolerably long; still she liked to hear
+him say it.
+
+It was a happy evening to Bessie when she saw Richard for the first time
+in her own dear home, making one of the family circle, and looking as
+though he had been there for years. How kindly they had all greeted him!
+She saw by her mother's expression how pleased and excited she was. She
+took the young man under her motherly wing at once, and petted and made
+much of him; and it was easy to see how proud her father was of his
+son-in-law elect. Bessie thought she had never seen Richard to such
+advantage before. There was no awkwardness in his manner; he was alert,
+cheerful, and at his ease, ready to talk to Christine or to the younger
+girls, and full of delicate little attentions to his _fiancee_.
+
+"A fine, manly fellow!" observed Dr. Lambert, as he wished his daughter
+good-night. "You have won a prize, my girl; I am perfectly satisfied
+with my future son-in-law," and Bessie blushed and smiled over her
+father's encomium.
+
+But the most comfortable moment was when she had her mother to herself,
+for Mrs. Lambert had stolen upstairs after Bessie.
+
+"Oh, mother, this is what I wanted," she said, drawing her mother down
+into the low chair beside the fire, and kneeling on the rug beside her.
+"How good of you to come up to me! I was so longing for a talk."
+
+"I think your father wanted Mr. Sefton to himself, so I left them
+together."
+
+"You must call him Richard," corrected Bessie; "he wants you to do so.
+It was so nice to see him with you to-night; he will never want a mother
+now. You like him, do you not?" rather shyly.
+
+"Yes, indeed; we all like him; there is something so genuine about him.
+My darling, I have not felt so happy since our poor Hatty's death."
+
+"I think she would have been pleased about this, mother; it is the one
+drop of bitterness in my cup of happiness that her congratulations are
+missing. You were all so dear and kind to me, and to Richard, too; but I
+missed my Hatty;" and Bessie leaned against her mother's shoulder, and
+shed a few quiet tears.
+
+"I think I must tell you something," returned her mother soothingly.
+"Dear little Hatty used to talk in the strangest way sometimes. One
+night when she had been very ill, and I was sitting beside her, she
+told me that she had had such a funny dream about you--that you and Mr.
+Sefton were going to be married, and that she had seen you dressed in
+white, and looking so happy, and then she said very wistfully,
+'Supposing my dream should come true, mother, and our Bessie really
+married him, how nice that would be!' and she would speak of it more
+than once, until I was obliged to remind her that I never cared to talk
+of such subjects, and that I did not like my girls to talk of them,
+either. 'But, all the same, mother, Bessie will not be an old maid,' she
+persisted, with such a funny little smile, and then she left off to
+please me."
+
+"How strange!" replied Bessie thoughtfully. "I must tell Richard that;
+he was so kind about Hatty. Mother, is it not nice to be able to tell
+some one all one's thoughts, and be sure of their interest? That is how
+I begin to feel about Richard. He is always so kind and patient, and
+ready to hear everything, and he never laughs nor turn things into fun,
+as Tom does; and he is so clever; he knows things of which I am quite
+ignorant;" and Bessie rambled on in an innocent, girlish way of her
+lover's perfections, while her mother listened with a smile, remembering
+her own young days.
+
+"She is very simple," she said to her husband that night; "she thinks
+only of him; she does not seem to remember that he is rich, and that
+one day she will be mistress of The Grange. That is so like our Bessie;
+she always goes to the heart of things."
+
+"I am very much pleased with him," replied Dr. Lambert; "he is just as
+unsophisticated in his way as Bessie is in hers. You would have liked to
+have heard him, Dora. He seems to think there is no one like her. 'She
+is worth a dozen of me,' he said; and he meant it, too."
+
+Richard spent several days at Cliffe, and they were golden days to him
+and Bessie. On the last evening they went out together, for in the
+Lamberts' crowded household there was little quiet for the lovers, and
+Richard had pleaded for one more walk. "I shall not see you for six
+whole weeks," he said disconsolately; and, as usual, Bessie yielded to
+his wishes.
+
+They climbed up by the quarry into the Coombe Woods, and walked through
+the long, green alleys that seemed to stretch into space. The Coombe
+Woods were a favorite trysting-place for young couples, and many a
+village lad and lass carried on their rustic courtship there. The trees
+were leafless now, but the February sky was soft and blue, and the birds
+were twittering of the coming spring.
+
+"And Edna is to be married in June," observed Bessie, breaking the
+silence. "I am glad Mrs. Sefton has given her consent."
+
+"I suppose they gave her no option," replied Richard. "I knew when
+Sinclair went down on Saturday that he would settle something. Edna
+would not be likely to refuse him anything just now. You will have to be
+her bridesmaid, Bessie, so I am sure of some rides with you in June."
+
+"Dear old Whitefoot! I shall be glad to mount him again."
+
+"I shall get you a better horse before next winter. Whitefoot is growing
+old. Bessie, I ought not to be dissatisfied when you have been so good
+to me; but do you not think it would be possible to induce your father
+to change his mind?"
+
+Bessie did not pretend to misunderstand his meaning; she only said
+gently:
+
+"No, Richard; and I do not think it would be right to ask him;" and then
+she added, "You know dear Hatty will only have been dead a year."
+
+"Yes, I see what you mean," he replied slowly, "and I must not be
+selfish; but next October is a long time to wait, Bessie."
+
+"It will not seem so," she answered brightly, "and we must not hurry
+your mother; there will be Edna's marriage in June, and my visit to The
+Grange, and every now and then you will come here."
+
+"Yes, and there will be my mother to settle in her new house--you see
+what Edna says in her letter, that they have decided not to separate;
+that means that my mother will take a house at Kensington. Well, I dare
+say that will be for the best; but when my mother goes The Grange will
+want its mistress."
+
+"It will not want her long," she said very gently, "and Richard, dear,
+you have promised not to be impatient. Mother is not ready to part with
+me yet. I shall not like to think of you being lonely in that big house;
+but it will not be for long."
+
+"And, after all, I shall not be lonely," he returned, for he was not to
+be outdone in unselfishness. "I shall be getting the house ready for
+you, and the new mare. Oh, and there will be a hundred things to do, and
+in the evenings I shall talk to Mac about his new mistress, and he will
+look up in my face with his wise, deep-set eyes, as though he understood
+every word, and was as glad as I was that October would soon come."
+
+"Poor old Mac!" she exclaimed; and there was a soft color in her face as
+she interrupted him. "You must give him a pat from me, and to all the
+dear dogs--Leo, and Gelert, and Brand, and Bill Sykes--we must not
+forget Bill Sykes--and Tim, and Spot; and tell them--" And then she
+stopped and looked at him with a smile.
+
+"What shall I tell them?" he asked coaxingly; "that you will be glad
+too, when October comes?"
+
+"If you like," she answered quietly, "you may tell them that; but,
+Richard, when I think of the future, it is all like a dream. I cannot
+imagine that the dear old Grange is to be my home."
+
+"You will find it very real," he replied. "Think what walks we shall
+have on Sunday afternoons, with Bill Sykes and his companions; and when
+you go into the drawing-room to make tea, Tim and Spot will not be left
+outside."
+
+"Wait a moment, Richard look at that sunset;" and Bessie pointed to the
+western heavens, which were bathed in a glow of golden light. They had
+reached the end of the wood; a wide stretch of country lay before them.
+How still and quiet it was! even the birds' twitterings had ceased.
+Bessie's eyes grew soft and wistful; the sunset glories had reminded her
+of Hatty in her far-off home.
+
+Down below them lay the bay, like a sea of glass mingled with fire.
+"Thank God, all is well with my Hatty!" she thought; and then she turned
+to Richard with a gentle smile, and they went slowly back through the
+wood again, talking quietly of the days that were to be.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+
+    Changes to the original publication have been made as follows:
+
+    Table of contents
+    The Oatland Post-mark _changed to_
+    The Oatlands Post-mark
+
+    Page 7
+    "I am sure I don't know" returned _changed to_
+    "I am sure I don't know," returned
+
+    Page 17
+    in ice in Artic _changed to_
+    in ice in Arctic
+
+    Page 56
+    I dont think Aunt _changed to_
+    I don't think Aunt
+
+    Page 79
+    proudly to show her treassure _changed to_
+    proudly to show her treasure
+
+    Page 80
+    manners My Bessie is _changed to_
+    manners. My Bessie is
+
+    Page 92
+    embarrased manner _changed to_
+    embarrassed manner
+
+    Page 94
+    live anywhere else?" _changed to_
+    live anywhere else!"
+
+    Page 95
+    inintellect, of art _changed to_
+    intellect, of art
+
+    Page 103
+    then her mother dotes on her. _changed to_
+    then her mother dotes on her."
+
+    Page 109
+    "You may come in if you like, old fellow. _changed to_
+    "You may come in if you like, old fellow."
+
+    Page 111
+    Hatty! Oh, you mean the little _changed to_
+    "Hatty! Oh, you mean the little
+
+    Page 113
+    but for my part I think him _changed to_
+    "but for my part I think him
+
+    Page 130
+    but I I can imagine what a _changed to_
+    but I can imagine what a
+
+    Page 139
+    muff, but the man be has _changed to_
+    muff, but the man he has
+
+    Page 162
+    he returned hastiiy _changed to_
+    he returned hastily
+
+    Page 164
+    step-mother was young, and did not _changed to_
+    stepmother was young, and did not
+
+    Page 173
+    I go there very often because _changed to_
+    'I go there very often because
+
+    Page 209
+    and the heorines have _changed to_
+    and the heroines have
+
+    Page 216
+    "Hatty is not well," observed Bessie anxiously _changed to_
+    "Hatty is not well," observed Bessie anxiously.
+
+    Page 222
+    What a terriffic clap! _changed to_
+    What a terrific clap!
+
+    Page 267
+    effort to come, if only for my sake.' _changed to_
+    effort to come, if only for my sake.
+
+    Page 283
+    is quite well," he continueed coldly _changed to_
+    is quite well," he continued coldly
+
+    Page 297
+    You father will find that _changed to_
+    Your father will find that
+
+    Page 309
+    "I had some business there, he began awkwardly _changed to_
+    "I had some business there," he began awkwardly
+
+    Page 310
+    "Yes, indeed, he replied promptly _changed to_
+    "Yes, indeed," he replied promptly
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Bessie, by Rosa Nouchette Carey
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR BESSIE ***
+
+***** This file should be named 28651.txt or 28651.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/6/5/28651/
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/28651.zip b/28651.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eb26faf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/28651.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf47f13
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #28651 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/28651)