It was a scorchingly hot day, and Jack was perspiring at every pore, but Bessie was fresh and bright as ever, and eager to go to the Abbey and the Parliament House, and possibly somewhere else, and Jack obeyed her with an inward groan, and went where she wished to go, and marveled at her knowledge of and interest in everything pertaining to Westminster and its surroundings.  Never in his life had Jack Trevellian been as tired as he was that night, with a back which ached so hard that he actually bought a plaster for it next morning, and, thus strengthened and fortified, started again on his mission.  Kensington Museum, the British Museum, the National Gallery, Crystal Palace, Hampton Court, and the Queen’s Stables were all visited by turn, and then they went for a day to Alexandra Palace, and saw an opera, a play, a ballot, two circuses, and rope-walking, all for a shilling, which to Bessie’s frugal mind was best of all.

That night Jack was more worn out than ever, and his back ached worse than after the Tower, and though Bessie was to leave the next day for home, he did not go to Abingdon Road in the evening, but went to bed instead, and deferred his good-by until the morrow.  So Neil had the field to himself, and made good use of his opportunity.  Together he and Bessie walked in the Kensington gardens until they were tired, and then they sat side by side on one of the many seats in a retired part of the grounds, and Neil told her how sorry he was that she was going home, and how lonely he should be without her.

“Ye-es,” Bessie said, doubtfully.  “I think you will survive;” and then he burst out, impulsively; “I say, Bessie, I don’t want you to think me a cad and a sneak, when you go back to Stoneleigh.  Don’t you suppose I’d like to have taken you round just as well—­yes, better than Jack, confound him?”

“Why didn’t you then?  I would rather have gone with you,” Bessie said, beginning to relent at once toward the handsome, good-for-nothing Neil, who had his arm around her, and was looking into her face with his dark, expressive eyes.

“Why didn’t I?” he answered.  “I am going to tell you why I didn’t, and why Jack did.  He is his own master, with money to do as he likes, and no one to question or nag him at home; while I am not my own master at all, and have no money except what mother chooses to give me, and that is not much.  Father, you know, is poor, and mother holds the purse, which is not a large one, and keeps me awful short at times, especially after paying my Oxford bills and a few debts I contracted the last year.  There would have been no end of a row if I had asked her for money to spend on you and your father.”

“Does she then hate us so much?” Bessie asked, and Neil replied: 

“She cannot hate you, as she does not know you; but, you see, she is prejudiced against your mother and visits her anger upon your innocent head.  I wanted her to call upon you and invite you to our house, and I wanted to take you to drive in the park, but I could not; my hands were tied.  Do you suppose it was pleasant for me to see Jack Trevellian doing what I ought to have done?”