Anybody might see that Bessie remembered; not her face only, but her neck, her very arms, burned.

“Secrets are not to be told out of the confessional,” said Mr. Bernard.  “Miss Fairfax, you blush unseen by me.”

There was a general low ripple of laughter, and everybody began to talk at once, to cover the young lady’s palpable confusion.  Afterward, Lady Latimer, who had been amused, begged to know what that mysterious nest-egg might be.  Bessie hesitated.  “Tell us, do tell us,” urged Dora and Mrs. Bernard; so Bessie told them.  She had to mention the schemes for sending her to the Hampton Training School and Madame Michaud’s millinery shop by way of making her story clear, and then Lady Latimer rather regretted that curiosity had prevailed, and manifested her regret by saying that Mr. Wiley was one of the most awkward and unsafe guests she ever invited to her table.  “I should have asked him to meet Mr. Harry Musgrave last night, but he would have been certain to make some remark or inquiry that would have hurt the young man’s feelings or put him out of countenance.”

“Oh no,” said Bessie with a beautiful blushing light in her face, “Harry is above that.  He has made his own place, and holds it with perfect ease and simplicity.  I see no gentleman who is his better.”

“You were always his advocate,” Lady Latimer said with a sudden accession of coldness.  “Oxford has done everything for him.  Dora, close that window; Margaret, don’t stand in a draught.  Mr. Harry Musgrave is a very plain young man.”

“Aunt Olympia, no,” remonstrated Mrs. Bernard, who had a suspicion of Miss Fairfax’s tenderness in that quarter, and for kind sympathy would not have her ruffled.

But Bessie was quite equal to the occasion.  “His plainness is lost in what Mr. Logger calls his power of countenance,” said she.  “And I’m sure he has a fine eye, and the sweetest smile I know.”

Lady Latimer’s visage was a study of lofty disapproval:  “Has he but one eye?—­I thought he had two.  When young ladies begin to talk of young gentlemen’s fine eyes and sweet smiles, we begin to reflect.  But they commonly keep such sentiments to themselves.”

Dora and Bessie glanced at one another, and had the audacity to laugh.  Then Mrs. Bernard laughed and shook her head.  My lady colored; she felt herself in a minority, and, though she did not positively laugh, her lips parted and her air of severity melted away.  Bessie had cast off all fear of her with her old belief in her perfection.  She loved her, but she knew now that she would never submit to her guidance.  Lady Latimer glanced in the girl’s brave, bright face, and said meaningly, “The nest-egg will not have been saving up unnecessarily if you condescend to such a folly as that.”  And Bessie felt that my lady had got the last word for the present.

She looked guilty yet indignant at this open reference to what was no more than an unspoken vision.  She had a thousand shy silent thoughts in her heart, but it was not for any one to drag them into the light.  Lady Latimer understood that she had said too much, but she would not retract, and in this way their contention began.  They were henceforward visibly in opposition.  Mr. Harry Musgrave called the next morning at Fairfield and asked for Miss Fairfax.  He was not admitted; he was told that she was not at home.