Mr. Fairfax did not check her gay exuberance, and all the house heard what was to be with unfeigned joy.  Mrs. Stokes rejoiced too, and pledged her own sons as playfellows for the little visitors.  And when the appointed time came, Bessie did as she had said, and made a journey to Norminster, taking Mrs. Betts with her to bring the children over.  Their father and pretty young mother consented to their going with the less reluctance because it seemed the first step towards the re-establishment of kindly relations with the offended squire; and Sally was sent with them.

“Next Christmas you will come too,” said Bessie, happier than any queen in the exercise of her office as peacemaker, and important also as being put in charge of those incomparable boys, for Sally was, of course, under superior orders.

The first drawback to her intense delight was a whimper from Laury as he lost sight of his mamma, and the next drawback was that Justus asked to be taken home again the moment the train reached Mitford Junction.  These little troubles were quickly composed, however, though liable, of course, to break out again; and Bessie felt flushed and uneasy lest the darling boys should fail of making a pleasant first impression on grandpapa.  Alas for her disquiets!  She need have felt none.  Jonquil received her at the door with a sad countenance; and Macky, as she came forward to welcome the little gentlemen, betrayed that her temper had been tried even to tears not very long before.  Jonquil did not wait to be inquired of respecting his master, but immediately began to say, in reply to his young lady’s look of troubled amazement, “The squire, miss, has gone on a journey.  I was to tell you that he had left you the house to yourself.”

“Gone on a journey?  But he will return before night?” said Bessie.

“No, miss.  We are to expect him this day week, when Mr. Laurence’s children have gone back to Norminster,” explained the old servant in a lower voice.

Bessie comprehended the whole case instantly.  Macky was relieving her pent feelings by making a fuss with the little boys, and giving Mrs. Betts her mind on the matter.  The group stood disconcerted in the hall for several minutes, the door open and the low winter sun shining upon them.  Bessie did not speak—­she could not.  She gazed at the children, pale herself and trembling all over.  Justus began to ask where was grandpapa, and Laury repeated his question like a lisping echo.  There was no answer to give them, but they were soon pacified in the old nursery where their father had played, and were made quite happy with a grand parade of new toys on the floor, expressly provided for the occasion.  Bed-time came early, and Bessie was relieved when it did come.  Never in the whole course of her life had she felt so hurt, so insulted, so injured; and yet she was pained, intensely pained, for the old man too.  Perhaps he had meant her to be so, and that was her punishment.  Jonquil could give her no information as to whither his master had gone, but he offered a conjecture that he had most probably gone up to London.