and soft whisperings between the two who were left, if either had been thereto inclined; but Bessie’s frank, girlish good-humor made lovers’ pretences impossible, and while Mr. Cecil Burleigh felt every hour that he liked her better, he felt it more difficult to imply it in his behavior.  Bessie, on her side, fully possessed with the idea that she knew the lady of his love, was fast throwing off all sense of embarrassment in his kindness to herself; while onlookers, predisposed to believe what they wished, interpreted her growing ease as an infallible sign that his progress with her was both swift and sure.

They were still at the glass door of the verandah when Mrs. Chiverton sought Bessie to bid her good-night.  She seemed to have forgotten her recent offence, and said, “You will come and see me, Miss Fairfax, will you not?  We ought to be friends here.”

“Oh yes,” cried Bessie, who, when compunction touched her, was ready to make liberal amends, “I shall be very glad.”

Mrs. Chiverton went away satisfied.  The other guests not staying in the house soon followed, and when all were gone there was some discussion of the bride amongst those who were left.  They were of one consent that she was very handsome and that her jewels were most magnificent.

“But no one envies her, I hope?” said Lady Angleby.

“You do not admire her motive for the marriage?  Perhaps you do not believe in it?” said Mr. Cecil Burleigh.

“I quite believe that she does, but I do not commend her example for imitation.”

Miss Burleigh, lingering a few minutes in Miss Fairfax’s room when they went up stairs, delivered her mind on the matter.  “My poor ambition flies low,” she said.  “I could be content to give love for love, and do my duty in the humblest station God might call me to, but not for any sake could I go into the house of bondage where no love is.  Poor Mrs. Chiverton!”

Bessie made a very unsentimental reply:  “Poor Mrs. Chiverton, indeed!  Oh, but she does not want our pity!  That old man is a slave to her, just as the girls were at school.  She adores power, and if she is allowed to help and patronize people, she will be perfectly happy in her way.  Everybody does not care, first and last, to love and be loved.  I have been so long away from everybody who loves me that I am learning to do without it.”

“Oh, my dear, don’t fancy that,” said Miss Burleigh, and she stroked Bessie’s face and kissed her.  “Some of us here are longing to love you quite as tenderly as any friends you have in the Forest.”  And then she bade her good-night and left her to her ruminations.

Miss Burleigh’s kiss brought a blush to Bessie’s face that was slow to fade even though she was alone.  She sat thinking, her hands clasped, her eyes dreamily fixed on the flame of the candle.  Some incidents on board the Foam recurred to her mind, and the blush burnt more hotly.  Then, with a sigh, she said to herself, “It is pleasant here, everybody is good to me, but I wish I could wake up at Beechhurst to-morrow morning, and have a ride with my father, and mend socks with my mother in the afternoon.  There one felt safe.”