The next day Jack left Stoneleigh, as it was necessary for him to be at the castle, he said, alluding for the first time to his new home.

“Yes,” Bessie replied, looking up at him with the first smile he had seen upon her face since her father died, “you are Sir Jack now.  I had scarcely thought of it before, or remembered to give you your title.”

“Don’t remember it now,” he said, with a look of deep pain in his eyes and a tremor in his voice, “Believe me, I’d give worlds to bring poor Hal back to life again, and you do not know what anguish I endured during the few moments I held him in my arms and knew that he was dying.  Just an instant before and he had bandied some light jest with me, and I had thought how handsome he was with that bright, winning smile, which death froze so soon upon his lips.  It was awful, and the castle seems to be so gloomy without him.”

“Is that young girl there still?” Bessie asked, and he replied: 

“Yes, Flossie Meredith, the sweetest, prettiest little wild Irish girl you ever saw; but she cannot stay, you know.”

“Why not?” Bessie asked, and he replied.

“Mrs. Grundy will not let her live there alone with me.  Hal was her cousin, but I am no kin to her, and so she must go back to Ireland, which she hates, unless—­Bessie,” he cried, impulsively, then checked himself as he saw the startled look in her eyes, and added, quite calmly:  “You and Flossie would be the best of friends, and would suit each other exactly.  You are so quiet, she so wild and frolicsome.  Let me bring her to see you this summer.”

“I am sure I should be so glad if you would,” Bessie said, and then Jack went away, promising to write her from London, whither he was first going.

And in a few days his letter came, saying he had learned that Neil had gone to Moscow with a party, and so his silence and absence were explained.

    “I wrote him a savage letter,” he said, “and shall have to apologize
    for it when I see him, I dare say you will hear from him ere long. 
    Remember, I am coming again to Stoneleigh very soon.

    “Always your friend,

    “JACK TREVELLIAN.”

Bessie’s heart beat rapidly as she read this letter, and comprehended its meaning; but she was true to Neil and waited patiently for the letter she knew was sure to come as soon as he heard of her trouble.

Two weeks went by, and then one lovely July day Jack came again, and sitting with her on the bench in the garden where her father once sat and made love to Daisy, he told her first of his home with its wide-spreading pastures, its lovely views, its terraces and banks of flowers, and of Irish Flossie, who cried so hard because she must give up this home and go back to her old house by the wild Irish sea, with only a cross grandmother for company.