“Ye-es—­no—­I don’t know,” Jack answered, thoughtfully, while it seemed to Bessie that a shadow passed over his face, and he sat for a few moments in a brown study as if revolving something in his mind.  Then rousing up he said he must leave them, as he was due at a party at the West End, and it was time he was making his toilet.  “I shall be very glad to see you at Trevellian Castle,” he said to Grey, “and if you will come I will treat Mistress Bessie to the biggest fox-hunt she ever saw.  I have no end of hounds and horses, and Flossie is an admirable horsewoman.  Why, she can take the highest fence and clear the widest ditch in the county.  Come and see her do it.  Good-by.”

The next day Bessie wrote to Flossie, urging her to go with her to her new home, and saying that she knew she would like America, and be very happy there.

A week later and Neil started for India.  He said good-by, at the hotel, to his father, who had come from Wales to see him; but Grey and Bessie went with him to Southampton, where he was to embark.  It was hard for Neil to seem cheerful and natural, but he succeeded very well until the last, when he said good-by to Bessie.  Then he broke down entirely, and, taking her in his arms, cried over her as a mother cries over the child she is losing.

“You have always been my good angel, Bessie,” he said, “and if I ever make anything of myself, it will all be owing to you.  Good-by, and may God bless you and make you the happiest woman in the world, as you deserve to be.  I may never see you again, and I may.  If I succeed, and really think I am a man, and not a sneak as you have always known me, I shall come to you sometime, and show you that there was something in Neil McPherson besides selfishness and conceit.  Good-by.”

Releasing her, he turned to Grey, who, during this little scene, had considerately turned his back upon them, and stood looking from the window as unconcernedly as if no tall, handsome cousin were kissing his wife and crying over her.  He had perfect faith in Bessie, and he pitied Neil, and when the latter offered him his hand he took it, and pressing it warmly, said: 

“Good by, and God bless you.  As long as I live you will have a friend in me.  I think you will succeed in India, but if you fail, try America.  You are sure to succeed there, if you only have the will, and I can help you some, perhaps.  Good-by.”

Neil made no answer, except to wring Grey’s hand, and then he passed out from the old life to the new, with a pretty equal chance for failure or success.

This was in April, and the latter part of May the Jerrolds sailed for America, but before they did so Bessie received a letter from Flossie, who was at her grandmother’s home near Portrush, in Ireland, and who wrote as follows: