At last the letter came, not from Neil, but from his father, who, after thanking Bessie most cordially for her generous offer, which he was glad to accept, wrote as follows: 

“I hope you will not be disappointed because I answer your letter in place of Neil, who said he could not possibly do it.  He is greatly changed, and does not seem like himself at all.  After reading your letter and passing it to me, he sat for a long time staring blankly at nothing, with a look on his face which I could not understand, and when I asked him what was the matter, he put his head upon the table and cried as young men never cry except they are greatly moved, and I cried, too; though why I cannot tell, unless it was for all the trouble which has come upon us at once, the loss of my wife, the loss of our home, and the fact that Neil must now, from necessity, do something to earn his bread.  But I do not think he minds that as much as one might suppose, and when I began to cry he stopped at once and tried to comfort me, and said our lot was not a hard one by any means, when compared with what many had to endure; that it was a good thing to have to bestir himself; that he had been a lazy, conceited, selfish puppy long enough, and that if it were possible he meant to be a man.  And then he spoke of you as his good angel, and said you were the truest, purest, and sweetest woman in all the world, and that neither of us could ever repay you and your husband for your generosity to us.  I am sure I cannot, nor can I tell you how happy I shall be at Stoneleigh.  I am afraid you will have a steady incumbent, for once there, I do not believe I shall care to leave it.  I have seen all of the world I wish to, and the quiet and peace of Stoneleigh will be very grateful to me.  I think, however, that for the winter I shall remain in London, where I hope to see you and Mr. Jerrold, whose father and mother I met years ago at Penrhyn Park.  I do not yet know when Neil will start for India; probably within a few weeks, and then I shall be very lonely.  That God may bless you, my dear Bessie, and give you all the happiness you deserve, is the prayer of your affectionate uncle,

    “JOHN MCPHERSON.”

CHAPTER XVII.

OLD FRIENDS.

Over this letter Bessie had a good cry, with her face on Grey’s shoulder and Grey’s arms around her, and when he asked why she cried she said she did not know, only the world seemed a very dreary world with no one perfectly happy in it except themselves.  But Bessie’s tears in those days were like April showers, and she was soon as joyous and gay as ever, and entered heart and soul into the improvements and repairs which were to make Stoneleigh habitable for the Hon. John, who, greatly to their astonishment, came suddenly upon them one day when they were ankle deep in brick and mortar and lath and plaster, and all the other paraphernalia attendant upon repairing an old house.