Mrs. Carnegie’s reception propitiated Mr. Fairfax still further.  She said a few words in extenuation of the delay there had been in replying to his communication through Mr. John Short; and he was able to reply, even sincerely, that he was glad it had occurred, since it had occasioned his coming to the Forest.  Bessie reddened; she had an almost irresistible desire to say something gruff—­she abominated these compliments.  She was vexed that Lady Latimer should be their witness, and bent her brows fiercely.  My lady did not understand the signs of her temper.  She was only amused by the flash of that harmless fire, and serenely interposed to soothe and encourage the little girl.  Oh, if she could have guessed how she was offending!

“Can you spare Bessie for a few hours, Mrs. Carnegie?  If you can, I will carry her off to luncheon at Fairfield.  Mr. Fairfax, whom I knew when I was not much more than her age, will perhaps come too?” said my lady, and Mr. Fairfax assented.

But tears rushed to Bessie’s eyes, and she would have uttered a most decisive “No,” had not Mrs. Carnegie promptly answered for her that it was a nice plan.  “Your dress is quite sufficient, Bessie,” added my lady, and she was sent up stairs to put on her hat.  Did she stamp her angry little foot as she obeyed?  Probably.  And she cried, for to go to Fairfield thus was horribly against her inclination.  Nevertheless, half an hour later, when my lady had transacted the business that brought her to Beechhurst so opportunely, Bessie found herself walking gently along the road at her side, and on her other hand her wicked grandfather, chatting of a variety of past events in as disengaged and pleasant a fashion as an old gentleman of sixty-five, fallen unexpectedly into the company of an old friend, could do.  As Bessie cooled down, she listened and began to speculate whether he might possibly be not so altogether wicked as his recent misbehavior had led her to conclude; then she began to think better things of him in a general way, but unfortunately it did not occur to her that he might possibly have conceived a liking to herself.  Love, that best solvent of difficulties, was astray between them from the beginning.

Bessie was not invited to talk, but Lady Latimer gave her a kind glance at intervals.  Yet for all this encouragement her heart went pit-a-pat when they came in sight of Fairfield; for about the gate was gathered a group of young ladies—­to Bessie’s imagination at this epoch the most formidable of created beings.  There was one on horseback, a most playful, sweet Margaret, who was my lady’s niece; and another, a dark-eyed, pretty thing, cuddling a brisk brown terrier—­Dora and Dandy they were; and a tall, graceful Scotch lassie, who ran to meet Lady Latimer, and fondled up to her with the warmest affection; and two little girls besides, sisters to Dora, very frank to make friends.  Each had some communication in haste for my lady, who, when she could