Jolly Miss Buff was an immense help, stay, and comfort to her little friend till through this perplexing ordeal.  She was full of harmless satire.  She proposed to give Bessie lessons in manners, and to teach her the court curtsey.  She chuckled over her reluctance to obey commands to tea at the rectory, and flattered her with a prediction that she would enjoy the grand day of the wedding at Fairfield.  “I know who the bridesmaids are, and you will be the prettiest of the bunch,” she assured her.  “Don’t distress yourself:  a bridesmaid has nothing to do but to look pretty and stand to be stared at.  It will be better fun at the children’s feast than at the breakfast—­a wedding breakfast is always slow—­but you will see a host of fine people, which is amusing, and since Lady Latimer wishes it, what need you care?  You are one of them, and your grandfather will be with you.”

Before the day came Bessie had been wrought up to fancy that she should almost enjoy her little dignity.  Its garb became her well.  The Carnegie boys admired her excessively when she was dressed and set off to Fairfield, all alone in her glory, in a carriage with a pair of gray horses and a scarlet postilion; and when she walked into church, one of a beautiful bevy of half a dozen girls in a foam of white muslin and blue ribbons, Mrs. Carnegie was not quick enough to restrain Jack from pointing a stumpy little finger at her and crying out, “There’s our Bessie!” Bessie with a blush and a smile the more rallied round the bride, and then looked across the church at her mother with a merry, happy face that was quite lovely.

Mr. Fairfax, who had joined the company at the church door, at this moment directed towards her the notice of a gentleman who was standing beside him.  “That is Elizabeth—­my little granddaughter,” said he.  The gentleman thus addressed said, “Oh, indeed!” and observed her with an air of interest.

Then the solemnity began.  There was a bishop to marry the happy couple (Bessie supposed they were happy, though she saw the blossoms quiver on the bride’s head, and the bridegroom’s hand shaking when he put the ring on her finger), and it was soon done—­very soon, considering that it was to last for life.  They drove back to Fairfield with a clamor of bells—­Beechhurst had a fine old peal—­and a shrill cheering of children along the roadside.  Lady Latimer looked proud and delighted, and everybody said she had made an excellent match for her charming niece.

Bessie Fairfax was in the same carriage returning as the gentleman whose attention had been called to her by her grandfather in the church.  He paid her the compliment of an attempt at conversation.  He also sat by her at the breakfast, and was kind and patronizing:  her grandfather informed her that he was a neighbor of his in Woldshire, Mr. Cecil Burleigh.  Bessie blushed, and made a slight acknowledgment with her head, but had nothing to say.  He was a very fine gentleman indeed, this Mr. Cecil Burleigh—­tall