 Part 3, chapters 3 and 4 of Bessie's Fortune by Mary Jane Holmes. This sleeper-box recording is in the public domain. 3. DEAD That was what Adolf, a messenger boy from the Kirinal, said to Gray three days later, when the latter accidentally met him in Florence and inquired for the young English girl who was so sick with the fever. Adolf had left the Kirinal for Florence his home on the evening of the same day of Gray's departure from Rome. The next afternoon the two met accidentally on one of the bridges which crossed the river Arnaud. DEAD. Gray repeated, turning white to his lips and staggering as if he had been smitten with a heavy blow. How can she be dead? They told me she was better the morning I left. When did she die? A little after twelve, the boy replied, and Gray continued, Did her cousin come, a young man from Naples? Yes, the boy answered. Some gentleman was there, a big swell. He swore awfully at the clerk about the bills. There was no end of a row. The bills? What does it mean? Gray thought, for he had paid them all up to the time of his leaving. Then remembering to have heard what exorbitant sums were demanded by the proprietors of hotels when a person died in their house, he concluded that this must be the bill which Neil was disputing so hotly and bidding good day to the boy he walked on across the river, with a feeling that life could never beat to him again just what it had been before. On the morning when he left the hotel he had seen the nurse and inquired after the patient who she reported had slept well and seemed a little better. And now she was dead, the girl he loved so much. Dead in all her soft beauty with only the sons of nineteen summers upon her head. Dead in Rome, and he not there with her to take a last look at the fair face which, as he walked rapidly on through street after street, seemed close beside him, sometimes touching his own and making him shiver, it was so cold and dead. Dead and gone. Dead and gone. He kept repeating to himself as he tried to fancy what was passing in the room where he had spent so many hours and where he had kissed the girl now dead and gone forever. If I were only there, he thought, if I could but kiss her again and hold her hand in mine. And for a moment he felt that he must go back and take the matter away from Neil who could swear at the expense however great it was. He must go back and himself carry Bessie to the old home in Wales and bury her in the nook between the father and the wall. The spot which, when he saw it last, he little dreamed would be her grave and she so young and fair. But to go back would necessitate his telling Aunt Lucy of the fever and to excite in her alarm and anxiety for his safety. So he gave it up but walked on mile after mile until the nightshades were beginning to fall and he realized how late it was and that his aunt must be getting anxious about him. Hailing a carriage he was driven back to his hotel and found, as he expected, his aunt alarmed at his protracted absence and still more alarmed at the whiteness of his face and the strange look in his eyes. He had never told her a word of Bessie or the fever and he would not do so now. So he merely said he had walked too far and was tired. He should be all right in the morning and he asked permission to retire early to his room where he could be alone with his sorrow. They left Florence the next day for Miss Gray, who had made a long stop there early in the winter when on her way to Rome was anxious to leave Italy as soon as possible, fancying that the climate did not agree with Gray, who had not seemed himself since he came from Egypt and joined her in Rome. Arrived in Venice, Gray's first act was to inquire for letters but there was nothing from Rome, nothing from Flossy who had promised him to write. They were too busy with their preparations for taking Bessie home. They must be on their way by this time, he thought, and with a heavy heart he journeyed on from Venice until Vienna was reached and there at the Hotel Metropolle he found Jack Trevelyan's name registered. It would be a relief to talk to him, Gray thought. He had known Bessie too and Gray must speak to someone of the sorrow weighing so heavily upon him or the burden would break him down. That night in Jack Trevelyan's room two young men sat opposite each other with only a small table between them and on it a single wax candle which threw a faint, glimmering light upon the white faces which looked so sadly at each other as in dumbed silence the two sat motionless for a few moments after Gray had told his news. What is it, old fellow? Jack had said cheerily as after expressing his joy and surprise at meeting his friends so unexpectedly and motioning him to a seat he noticed the care worn look upon his face and the said expression upon his mouth. What makes you look so like a graveyard? Crossed in love, eh? I thought it would come to that some time and knew you would be hard hit when hit at all. Tell me about it, do. Maybe I do know how it feels. And Jack laughed a little meaning laugh as he remembered the time when Bessie's blue eyes had looked at him and Bessie's voice had said, I cannot be your wife. Hush, Jack. And Gray put up his hand deprecatingly. You don't know how you hurt me. Bessie is dead. Dead? Bessie dead? Oh, Gray. And Jack nearly leaped from his chair in his first surprise and horror. Then he sat down again and there was a silence between the two for a moment when he said in a voice Gray would never have known as his. When did she die? Tell me all about it, please, but tell it very slowly, word by word, or I shall not understand you. I seem to be terribly unstrung. It is so sudden and awful. Bessie dead, and he stared at Gray with eyes which did not seem to see anything before them, but rather to be looking at something far away in the past. And Gray, who was regarding him curiously, knew that mere friendship, however strong, never wore such semblance of grief as this, and there flashed upon him the conviction that, like himself, Jack, too, had loved the beautiful girl now lost forever to them both, while he'd chill ran through his veins as he thought that possibly Jack was an accepted lover, and that was why Bessie had shrunk from his words of love as something she must not listen to. She was engaged to Jack Trevelyan. Nothing could be planer, and with this conviction which each moment gathered strength in his mind he resolved to conceal his own heart wound from his rival and talk of the dead girl as if he had only been her friend. Slowly, as Jack had bidden him, he told the story of her sickness, dwelling long on flossy meridous untiring devotion, but saying nothing of the services he had rendered, saying only that he was so glad he was there as a gentleman friend was necessary at such a time, and in such a place, where greed is the rule and not the exception. They were expecting Neil from Naples the day I left or I should have stayed, he said, and then into Jack's eyes there crept a strange, hard expression, and he wiped the perspiration from his forehead and lips as he said. Neil, yes. It was his place, not yours or mine, but oh, Gray, if I might have seen her, if I could have held her dead hand but for a moment and kissed her dear face. Here Jack stopped for his voice was choked with sobs, and ere he knew what he was doing Gray said to him, Jack, you loved Bessie MacPherson. Yes, Jack answered him unhesitatingly. I do not mind telling it to you. I think I have loved her since I first saw her, a demure old-fashioned little thing in the funniest bonnet and dress you ever saw sitting with her father in Hyde Park and looking at the passersby. I watched her for some time, wondering who she was, and then at last I ventured to speak to her, and standing by her chair told her who the people were, and found out who she was and called upon her in Abingdon Road, and then she went away, but her face haunted me continually and even the remembrance of it and of her helped me to a better life than I had led before. You knew her mother, or rather you knew of her. Not the woman you saw in Rome full of anxiety for her child, but a vain selfish intriguing woman whom no good man could respect much as he might admire her dazzling beauty. Well, she had me on her string when I met her daughter, but something Bessie said to me made me strong to resist coils and arts which Satan himself would find it hard to withstand. I used to ride with her and flirt with her and bet with her and play at her side in Monte Carlo and let her fleece me out of money just as she did every one with whom she came in contact, but after I knew Bessie I broke with her mother entirely and have never played with her or anyone since for money. You remember the Christmas we spent together at Stonely? You did not guess perhaps how much I loved her then, or that I would have asked her to be my wife if I had not been so poor. Then her father died and you were there before me and I was horribly jealous for I meant she should be mine. There was nothing in the way I thought. Poor Hal was dead and had left me his title and estate. I could pour some brightness into her weary life and two weeks after the funeral I went back to Stonely and asked her to marry me. Jack paused a moment and leaning forward eagerly Gray said, Yes, you asked her to marry you and she consented? No, oh no, Jack groaned. If she had she might not now have been dead. My Bessie whom I loved so much. She refused me and worst of all she told me she was plighted to kneel her cousin. To kneel? Bessie plighted to kneel. That is impossible for he is to marry Blanche Trevelyan so everybody says, Gray exclaimed, conscious of a keener pang that he had experienced when he thought Jack his rival. And everybody is right, Jack replied. He will marry Blanche but he was engaged to Bessie under the promise of strict a secrecy until his mother who had threatened to disinherit him was reconciled or he found something which would support him without any effort on his part. Neil McPherson would never exert himself or deny himself either, even for the woman he loved. And Gray, I speak the truth when I tell you that I would rather know that Bessie was dead than to see her kneel's wife. Gray did not answer but something in the pallor of his face and the expression of his eyes struck Jack suddenly and stretching his hand across the table he said very low and very sadly, Gerald you loved her too. I see it in your face. Yes, Gray answered him. I loved her too and would have given years of my life to have saved her though not for Neil. Better far as it is, better for her, I mean, though our lives are wrecked. At least mine is. But for you there may still be a happy future and on the ashes of the dead love a new one may arise to bless you. Never! Jack answered emphatically. Then after a moment as if his thoughts had followed Gray's he asked. Do you know how long Mrs. Meredith intends remaining in Rome or where she expects to go after leaving there? Gray replied that he did not while a faint smile played round his mouth as he looked at his friend who detected the smile and comprehending its meaning he said with a heightened color. I know you are thinking of Flossie. Bessie thought of her too and asked why I did not marry her. But that will never be though. She is as bright and beautiful and Irish lassie has ever glattened the eyes of a man and the castle is so lonesome without her buzzing about and stirring up things generally that I have serious thoughts of inviting her grandmother to take up her abode there so I can have Flossie back. The servants adore her but she will never be my wife. She would tire and worry me to death with her restlessness and activity. When I lost Bessie I lost everything and have nothing left but her memory not even a flower which she has worn. Gray hesitated a moment then taking from his pocket the package which Flossie had given him he opened it and holding to view the long silk and curl said to Jack, Flossie cut this from Bessie's head when the fever was at its height and though there is not in the world gold enough to buy it from me I will divide it with you and parting it carefully he laid one half of it upon Jack's hand around which it seemed to cling with a loving tenacity. It was strange how vividly that wavy hair brought Bessie back to the young man who had loved her so much and who at sight of it broke down entirely and laying their heads upon the table cried for a moment as only strong men can cry for the dear little girl who they felt sure was lying in her grave in far-off stonely. 4. 4 Daisy. Four weeks passed away and Gray with his aunt Lucy was journeying through Russia bearing with him a sense of loss and pain. The males were very irregular and he had never heard a word either from Flossie or Neal nor had he written to them. He could not yet bring himself to speak of Bessie even upon paper though he sometimes felt a little aggrieved that Neal did not write to him and tell him of his loss. And so the weeks went on and one day toward the middle of April when the English skies were at their best and the hyacinths and crocuses were blooming in the Eew Garden at Stonely a little band of mourners went down the broad graveled walk to the enclosure where in the narrow space between Archie's grave and the wall another grave was made and there in silence and in tears they buried not Bessie but her mother, poor, weak, frivolous Daisy who had succumbed to the fever and died after a three-week illness. Bessie was not dead as the messenger boy had reported to Gray in Florence but the young girl from America sick on the same floor had died about noon on the day of Gray's departure and with his rather limited knowledge of English the boy had mistaken her for Bessie. And as her brother had arrived that morning and had sworn roundly the frightful bill presented to him the boy had naturally confounded this party with the one for whom Gray inquired and this had been the cause of so much needless pain and sorrow to both Jack Travalion and Gray. Neal had come from Naples on the morning train very tired and worn with his trip to Egypt and a good deal out of sorts because of a letter received from his mother in Naples in which she rated him soundly for his extravagance telling him he must economize in that the cheque she sent him a very small one must suffice until his return to England where she confidently expected him to marry cousin Blanche before the season was over. I hear she wrote in conclusion that the widow of Archibald MacPherson is in Rome with her daughter but I trust you will not allow them to entangle you in any way the mother will fleece you out of every farthing you have while the daughter well I do not know her so will not say what she may do only keep clear of them both and shun that crafty woman as he would the plague with this letter in his pocket and barely enough money to defray his own expenses for a few weeks longer it is not to be wondered at if Neal was not in a very jubilant state of mind when he reached the Kirinal and found matters as they were. Vessi very low with the fever of which she had a mortal terror and her mother destitute of funds except as Grey Gerald had supplied them or as she had borrowed from Mrs. Meredith to whom she owed twenty pounds with no possible means of paying. All this and more she tearfully explained to Neal who listened to her with a great sinking at his heart and a feeling that he had plunged into something dreadful from which he could not escape. There was manliness enough in his nature to make him wince a little when he heard what Grey had done while at the same time he was conscious of a pang of jealousy as he reflected that only a stronger sentiment than mere friendship for Vessi could have actuated Grey, generous and noble as he knew him to be. Oh, if I were rich, he sighed, as with a conviction that he was about the most abused person in the world he went into the room where Vessi lay, white and worn and emotionless almost as the dead for though the fever had left her she was very weak and could only whisper her welcome while the great tears rolled down her cheeks. Neal was awfully afraid of her. There might still be infection in her breath and infection in the room. He fancied he smelled it and involuntarily put his hands to his mouth and nose as he drew near the bed. Vessi saw the motion and interpreted it right. Oh, Neal, she said with a sob. You are not afraid of me? No, certainly not. Only this fever is a confounded thing when it takes hold of a great hulking fellow like myself and just now I am very tired, he said. Then, heartily ashamed of himself as he saw the look of distress on Vessi's face, he bent and kissed her forehead and told her how sorry he was to find her so sick and that he would not leave her till she was strong again. But all the time he talked he fidgeted in his chair and kept looking at the door as if anxious to escape into the fresher air. Do you think there is any danger? He said to Flossy whom he encountered in the adjoining room. Flossy knew he was afraid and there was mischief in the Mary Irish Lassie's heart as she replied. Danger, oh no! If she has kept quiet and carefully nursed the doctor says she will soon get well enough to be moved. Yes, I know that, of course, Neil stammered. I mean, is there any danger of my taking it from her, from the room, from the air, you know? Are you afraid of it? Flossy asked him very demurely and he replied. No? Yes, I believe I am. Does that make any difference? I should say it did, very decidedly, Flossy answered with great earnestness and evident concern. Mr. Gerald was not one bit afraid and he was in there all the time, this with a saucy twinkle in her black eyes as she saw the flush in Neil's face and guessed its cause. You did not kiss her, of course, she continued with the utmost gravity. Yes, I did, he answered promptly. Do you think, do you think? Yes, I do, she said, decidedly adding to herself, I think you are a fool. To him she continued, I'll tell you what to do. Grandma is afraid like you so I know all the preventives. Let me burn a match or two under your nose so that the fumes will saturate your face, that will counteract any bad effects from the kiss and to prevent contagion hereafter get a good-sized leak. You can find one at any grocers, put it in a bit of cloth with a piece of camphor gum and wear it over the bit of your stomach. You may even brave the smallpox with that about your person. But won't it smell awfully? Neil asked with a shudder as he thought of wearing about his person an obnoxious leak whose odor he abominated. It will smell some, but what of that? You can endure a great deal in order to feel safe, Flossy replied. Neil could endure a great deal where his personal safety was concerned and wholly deceived by Flossy's manner he submitted to the burnt matches which nearly strangled him and brought on so violent a fit of coughing as made him fear lest he should burst a blood vessel. I guess you are all right as far as the kiss is concerned, Flossy said, nearly bursting with merriment. And now for the leak and camphor. I'll fix it for you. He found the leak and the camphor and Flossy tied them up for him in a bit of linen and bet him be quite easy in his mind as with these disinfectants he was impervious to the plague itself. What a coward he is to be sure, she said as she watched him hurrying down the hall to his room with his disinfectants. Sir Jack told me he was a milk-sop and not half worthy of Vessie and he was right. I think him an idiot. A leak's indeed. Won't he smell, though, when the leak gets warmed through and begins to fume? Phew! And the little nose went up higher than its want as Flossy returned to the sick room. That night Neil wrote to his mother the exact condition of affairs, telling her how he had found his aunt and cousin whom he could not leave without being stigmatized as a brute, telling her what Gray had done for them, telling her that they owed old Mrs. Meredith twenty pounds and that unless she wished a subscription paper to be started for them in the hotel among the English, many of whom were her acquaintances, she must send money to relieve their necessities and pay their bills. Neil felt almost sure that this last would touch his mother when nothing else could reach her and he was right. Neither she nor her husband cared to have their friends contribute to the needs of anyone who bore their name and the letter which Lady Jane sent to her son contained sixty pounds, which she bad him used to the best possible advantage, adding that he was to leave Rome as soon as he could with any show of decency. This, Neil would gladly have done if he could, but when his mother's letter arrived it found him plunged into a complication of difficulties from which he could not extricate himself. Daisy had suddenly been stricken down with the fever, which developed so rapidly and assumed so violent a form that Neil's strength and courage and patience were taxed to the utmost and he might have succumbed entirely if it had not been for Flossie who was equal to any emergency and who resisted all her grandmother's efforts to get her out of the fever-hole as she designated the hotel. Flossie would not go so long as best he needed her. She was not afraid, she said, and every morning her eyes were just as saucy and mirthful and the roses on her cheek just as bright as if she had not been up half the night soothing the wildly delirious Daisy and encouraging Neil who as the days went by rose a little in her estimation. He threw the obnoxious leak from his window when as Flossie had predicted its fumes became intolerable and he gave up the large sunny room which he had occupied at first and took a smaller, less expensive one and he learned to deny himself many things before that terrible fever had burnt itself out. He gave up Tabledote and lunch and took to the restaurants outside. He gave up driving on the Pinchion Hill or having carriages at all and patronised the street cars and omnibuses when he went out for an airing as Flossie insisted that he should do each day. I do believe I could make something of him in time, the energetic little lady thought, but dear me, Bessie would humor all his fancies and be a perfect slave to his caprices. Even now she will not let him wait upon her much for fear of tiring him. And so the days went on until two weeks were gone and then one April morning it was whispered among the few guests remaining in the hotel that death was again in the house and more trunks were packed in haste and more people left until the fourth floor was almost as silent as the room in which Daisy lay dead with a strange beauty in her face to which had returned as it sometimes does all the freshness and loveliness of youth so that she looked like some fair young girl as she lay upon her pillow with her hands upon her bosom just as she had folded them when at the last she said to those around her, It is growing late. I think I will retire. Good night. Then, clasping her hands together, she began the prayer of her childhood. Now I lay me down to sleep, repeating the whole distinctly while with the words, I pray thee, Lord, my soul to take. She went to meet the God who is so pitiful and kind and who knew all the good that was in her and knew, too, what thoughts of remorse for the past and prayers for forgiveness had been in her heart during the few lucid intervals which had been given to her. She had been delirious most of the time and in her delirium had talked of things which made poor Bessie shudder they revealed to her so much more of her mother's past than she had ever known. Monte Carlo was the field to which her fancy oftenness took flight and there at the gaming table she sat again going through the excitement of the olden time, losing and winning, winning and losing, sometimes with Teddy at her side and sometimes with men of a baser lower type, with whom she bandied jests until the scene was too horrible even for the iron-nerved Flossie to endure. Then there were moments of perfect consciousness when she knew and spoke rationally to those about her and tried to comfort Bessie who insisted upon having a lounge taken into the room so that she might see her mother if she could not minister to her. Once, startled by the expression of the faces around her, Daisy said, Why do you all look so sorry? Am I very sick? Am I going to die? Oh, am I going to die? I cannot die. I cannot. Don't let me die. Don't. Don't. It was like the cry of a frightened child begging a reprieve from punishment and that piteous Don't. Don't. rang in Bessie's ears long after the lips which uttered the words were silent in death. During their journeys together Daisy had shown the best there was in her and had really seemed trying to reform. When on her return from America she had suggested that they go abroad, saying she would sell her diamonds to defray the expenses, Bessie had refused at first and had only consented on condition that her mother abandoned all her old habits of life and neither played nor bet nor practiced any of her wiles upon the opposite sex for the purpose of extorting money from them. And all this Daisy promised. I'll be as circumspect as a Methodist Parsons wife, she said, and she kept her word as well as it was possible for her to do. She neither played nor bet nor coaxed money from her acquaintances by pretty tales of poverty and if she sometimes bandied familiar chests with her gentlemen friends, Bessie did not know it and there was springing up in her heart a strong feeling of respect for her mother who, just as the new life was beginning, was to be taken from her. Oh, mama, she sobbed, putting her poor, pale face close to that of the dying woman, for Neil had taken her in his arms and laid her beside her mother. Oh, mama, how can I give you up? Then, as the greater fear for her mother's future overmastered every other feeling, she said, Speak to me, mother. Tell me you are not afraid. Tell me you are sorry. Tell me, oh, my heavenly Father, if mother must die, forgive her all the past and take her to thyself. Yes, Daisy murmured, moving a little uneasily, forgive me all the past and there is so much to forgive. I am sorry and most of all for Archie and Bessie whom I neglected so long. Oh, how pleasant the old home at Stonely looks to me now. Bury me by Archie in the grass, it is so quiet there and now it is getting late. I think I will retire. Good night. And then, folding her hands together, she said the, Now I lay me, and Flossie who was bending over her knew that she was dead and motioning to Neil bad him take Bessie away. Neil was very tender and very kind and loving to the poor little girl quivering with pain, but uttering no sound and shedding no tears as she lay passive in his arms, but he felt that he was badly abused and that the burden laid upon him was heavier than he could bear. Should he have had his way Daisy would have been buried in the Protestant cemetery in Rome. This would have been far less expensive and have saved him no end of trouble. But when he suggested it to Bessie she said no, so decidedly that he gave it up and nerved himself to meet what he never could have met but for Flossie, who as far as she could managed everything, even to battling fiercely with the proprietor, whose bill she compelled him to lessen by several hundred francs and when he demanded payment for four dozen towels which he said had been ruined, she insisted upon taking the towels which she said were hers if she paid for them. Never had a porter or clerk encountered such a tempest as she proved to be and they finally surrendered the field and let her have her own way, shrugging their shoulders significantly as they called her, la petite diable irlandais. It was old Mrs. Meredith who furnished the necessary funds for there was no time to send to England. Neil telegraphed to his father asking him to go down to Stonely and meet them on their arrival with the body. But the Honorable John was suffering with the gout and only Anthony and Dorothy were there when Neil and Flossie and Bessie came, the latter utterly exhausted and unable to set up a moment after entering the house. So they took her to her old room which Dorothy had made as comfortable and pleasant as she could and there Bessie lay weak as a little child while the kind neighbors came again and stood in the U shaded cemetery where Daisy was buried and where there was room for no more of the MacPherson's. Now what? Flossie said to Neil when the burial was over and they sat alone in the parlor. Now what are you going to do? And when he answered gloomily, I am sure I don't know. She flashed her black eyes upon him and replied, You don't know? Then let me tell you, marry Bessie at once. What else can you do? Surely you will not leave her here alone. I know I ought not to leave her here, Neil said despondingly, but I cannot marry her now. Why not? Flossie asked him sharply and he replied, I cannot marry her and starve as we surely should do. I have no means of my own and mother would turn me from her door if I brought her Bessie as my wife. As it is, I dread growing to her with all these heavy bills. It was a foolish thing to bring Mrs. MacPherson home and I said so at the time. That woman has been a curse to everyone with whom she ever came in contact. Oh mama, poor mama, I wish I too were dead as you are. Moaned or rather gasped a little white-faced girl who was standing just outside the door and had heard all Neil was saying. Bessie had remained upstairs as long as she could endure it, but when she heard voices in the parlor and knew that Neil and Flossie were there she arose and, putting on a dressing gown and shawl, crept downstairs to go to them. But Flossie's question arrested her steps and, leaning against the side of the door, she heard all their conversation and knew the bitterness there was in Neil's heart toward her mother, less by what he said than by the tone of his voice as he said it, for there was in it a cold hard ring which made her shiver and sent her back to the bed she had quitted, where she lay for hours until she had thought it out and knew what she meant to do. But she said nothing of her decision either to Neil or Flossie, the latter of whom left her the next day to join her grandmother in London. Neil waited a few days longer, loathed to leave Bessie and dreading to go home and meet what he knew he must meet when he told his mother the amount of her indebtedness to Mrs. Meredith, who had signified her wish to be paid as soon as possible. Naturally dull of perception as he was, Neil was vaguely conscious of a change in Bessie's manner, but he attributed it to grief for the loss of her mother, wondering a little that she could mourn so deeply, a death which to him seemed a relief, for Daisy was not a person whom he would care to acknowledge as his mother-in-law. Bessie could not forget the words she had overheard, and though they might be true, she knew Neil ought not to have spoken them to a comparative stranger, and she began to realize, as she never had before, that in Neil's nature there was much which did not accord with hers. Many and many a time thoughts of Grey Gerald filled her mind, and in her half waking hours at night she heard again his voice so full of sympathy and felt an inexpressible longing to see him again, and hear him speak to her. Still she meant to be loyal to Neil, and on the morning of his departure when he was deploring his inability to marry her at once, she lifted her sad eyes to him and said, Is there nothing you can do to help yourself? I will do my part gladly, and it cannot cost us much to live, just us two. The next moment her face was crimson as she reflected that what she had said seemed like begging Neil to marry her, and his answer was not very reassuring. There is nothing for me to do, absolutely nothing. Don't other men find employment if they want it? Bessie asked, and he replied, Yes, if they want it, but I do not. You know as well as I, the prejudice among people of my rank against clerkships and trade and the like. As a rule the McPherson's do not work. But I am not ashamed to work, and I am as much a McPherson as you. Bessie answered him emboldened for once to say what she thought. Yes, he answered slowly, and I am sorry for it. You told me at one time you thought of going out as governess. Never harbour that idea again if you care for me. I cannot have people pointing out my wife as one who had taught their children. Bessie bowed her head silently as if in acquiescence, and Neil never suspected what was passing in her mind, nor dreamed that a tide was set in motion which would take Bessie away from him forever. PART III. BESSIE'S DECISION And so you have determined to go to America, Neil said to Bessie about four weeks later when he came to Stoney in obedience to a letter from Bessie telling him she wished to see him on a matter of importance. Yes, she replied, I am going to America. My passage is engaged and I still in two weeks in company with a Mrs. Goodenough of Bangor, a nice old lady who will take good care of me. Well, and Neil stroked his moustache thoughtfully. I am not sure but that it is a good idea to be with the old woman in her den. You will be likely to succeed where others would fail and when you are sure of her fortune send for me. There was a levity in his manner which Bessie resented and she said to him quickly, if by the old woman you mean my Aunt Bessie I would rather you did not speak of her thus. She has been kind to father and me. Very kind. But it is not her fortune I am going after. It is my own. I have always thought I had one somewhere and as it does not seem to be here it may be in America. But, justing aside, I am going to find something to do. It is no disgrace to work there and your friends will never know. I am not sure of that, Neil said. But what do you mean to do? Anything I can find, Bessie answered decidedly. Neil only smiled and thought how sure it was that once with her Aunt she would become a favorite and eventually a nearest to the fortune he so greatly coveted. He should miss her, he knew, and still it would be a relief not to have her on his mind as she would be if left alone at Stonely. So on the whole she had done wisely when she planned to go to America and he did not oppose her but said he would be in Liverpool the twenty-fifth to see her off. He did not ask if she had the necessary funds for the voyage. He had trouble enough on that score and was not likely soon to forget the scene or rather succession of scenes enacted at Trevelyan House when Mrs. Meredith's bills were presented to his mother who, but for shame's sake, would have repudiated them at once as something she was not lawfully obliged to pay. Neither did he inquire who Mrs. Goodnough was and did not know that she was a poor woman who had worked in the fields and was going out to New York, not as first-class passenger or even second but as steerage and Bessie's ticket was of the same nature. She had but little money and when she heard from Mrs. Goodnough who was a friend of Dorothy's and who had once been in America that a steerage passage was often times very comfortable and that many respectable people took it because of its cheapness she put aside all feelings of pride and said to Mrs. Goodnough, I will go steerage with you and from this plan she never served. But she would not tell Neil then, time enough at the last when he came to see her off and must of course know the truth. She knew he would be very angry and probably insist upon paying the difference but she could take no more money from him and her blood was hot whenever she reflected what she had heard him say to Thaussie of the bills incurred in Rome and which she meant to pay to the utter most farthing if her life was spared and she found something to do in the New World where to work was not degrading. But she must know the amount and she timidly asked Neil to tell her how much it was. Enough, I assure you, those Italians are rascals and cheats the whole of them but it need not trouble you that debt is paid, he said a little bitterly. But Bessie insisted upon knowing and finally rung from him that two hundred and fifty pounds would probably cover the whole indebtedness. Bringing mother home and all, Bessie asked and he replied, yes, bringing her home and all, that was a useless expense. He spoke before he thought and when he saw how quickly the tears came to Bessie's eyes he repented the act and stooping down to kiss her, he said. Forgive me, Bessie, I did not mean to wound you but mother did fret so about the bills. You know she did not like your mother. Tell her I shall pay them all, Bessie answered as she withdrew herself from the army had thrown around her. My mother was my own and with all her faults I loved her and I believe she was a good woman at the last. I should die if I did not. Yes, oh yes, of course, Neil said, feeling very awkward and uncertain what to say next. At last he asked rather abruptly if Bessie knew where Jack Travalion and Grey Gerald were, saying he had never heard from either of them since he was in Rome. Bessie replied that Flossie had written that Sir Jack was somewhere in the Bavarian Alps leading a kind of Bohemian life and that he had written to his steward at Travalion Castle that he should not be home until he had seen the fashion play, then in process of presentation at Oberammergo. He never writes Flossie, Bessie said, neither does she know where Mr. Gerald is. She wrote to him at Venice but he did not answer her letter. Perhaps he has gone home. Neil said it was possible adding that she would probably see him in America as his aunt Lucy lived in Allington. But you are not to fall in love with him. He continued laughingly. You are mine and I shall come to claim you as soon as you write me you have found that fortune you are going after. Do your best, little Bess, and if you cannot untie the old maid's purse strings nobody can. Bessie made no reply but in her heart there was a feeling which boated no good to Neil who left her the next day promising to come down to Liverpool and see her off. Six in Liverpool. It was a steady downpour and the streets of Liverpool always black and dirty looked dirtier and blacker than ever on the day when Neil McPherson walked restlessly up and down the entrance hall of the Northwestern hotel now scanning the piles of baggage waiting to be taken to the Germanic and then looking roofily out upon the rain falling so steadily. It is a dreary day for her to start poor little girl. I wish I had money of my own and I would never let her go. He said to himself as he began to realize what it would be to have Bessie separated from him the breadth of the Great Ocean. Selfish and weak as we have shown Neil to be, he loved Bessie better than he loved anything except himself and there was a load on his heart and a lump in his throat every time he thought of her. She was to sail that afternoon at three and he had come from London on the night express to meet her and say good-bye. His father and mother and Blanche were staying at a gentleman's house a few miles from the city and he was to join them there in the evening and make one of a large dinner party given in the honour of Lady Jane. He had told his mother that Bessie was going to America and in her delight at the good news she did not oppose his going to see her off and actually handed him a five pound note which he was to give to Bessie with her best wishes for a pleasant voyage and happiness in the new world. Thus armed and equipped Neil waited until a whiz and a shriek outside told him the train from Chester was in and going out he stood at the gate when Bessie came through accompanied by Mrs. Goodnuff who carried her bag and a waterproof and who curtsied very low to Neil. Never had the latter seen Bessie look as lovely as she did to him then in her simple travelling dress of black which brought out so clearly the dazzling purity of her complexion and seemed to intensify the deep blue of her large sad eyes. Oh Bessie! he exclaimed, taking her hand and putting it under his arm. How can I let you go? Where is Mrs. Goodnuff? And who is this woman bobbing up and down and staring so at me? Neil had a great contempt for people like Mrs. Goodnuff and when Bessie said to him in a low tone, it is my compagnon du voyage. She is rough looking but kind and good. I wish she would speak to her. He answered quickly. That woman, you going out with her? Why, she looks like a fish woman. She is only fit to be a steerage passenger. She is a steerage passenger and I am steerage too. Bessie said very quietly while Neil dropped her hand as if it had burned him. Bessie, what do you mean? He exclaimed, glancing down upon her and stopping suddenly. Let us go inside. Do not make a scene here, please. Bessie answered him in a low firm voice while her cheek grew a shade paler and something shown in her eyes which Neil had never seen there before. A private parlor, please. A small one will answer. He said to the clerk at the bureau and in a few moments he was sitting with Bessie at his side asking her to tell him what she meant by saying she was steerage too. It means, she began unfalteringly, that I have no money for a first class ticket which costs more than three times as much as steerage. Many respectable people go out that way and it is very comfortable. The Germanic is a new boat and all the apartments are clean and nice. I am not ashamed of it. I am ashamed of nothing except the debt I owe your mother and that I had to borrow five pounds of Anthony who insisted upon giving it to me but I would not take it. Why do you look at me so strangely, Neil? Do you think I have committed the unpardonable sin? Bessie, Neil began huskily and in a voice choked with passion. This is a drop too much. I know you had some low instincts but never dreamed you could stoop to this degradation which affects me as much as it does you. But it is not too late to change and you must do it. No, Neil, I cannot. I have barely enough to get there as it is. She replied and he continued. Mother sent you five pounds with her compliments. Will that do? Here it is. And he offered her the note which she put aside quickly as she said. I cannot take that from your mother. Give it back to her and if you think she meant it well thank her for me and tell her I shall pay the whole some day when I earn it. She emphasized the last words and more angry than before Neil exclaimed. Earn it. Why will you persist in such nonsense as if you were a common charwoman? You know as well as I that you are going to ant Betsy with a hope to get some of her money as you unquestionably will. Neil, I am not, Bessie answered firmly. I am going to America because there I can work and be respected too while here according to your code I cannot. Then for heaven's sake go decently and not heard with a lot of cattle for immigrants are little better and do not make yourself a spectacle for the other passengers to gaze upon and wonder about as they will be sure to do. If you have no pride for yourself you have no right to disgrace me. How do you think it will sound some day that Neil McPherson's wife went out as steerage? Have you no feeling about it? Not in that way, no, Bessie replied. It seems to me I have been in the steerage all my life and this can be no worse. Lady Bothwaite went thus to Australia to see how it fared with the passengers. He hasn't got herself well laughed at as a lunatic, then after a pause he continued excitedly. But to come to the point you must either give up this crazy plan or me. I can have no share in this disgrace which the world would never forget and which mother would never forgive. My wife must not come from the steerage. He spoke with great decision for he was very angry and for a moment there was perfect silence between them while Bessie regarded him fixedly with an expression on her face which made him uneasy for he did not quite mean all he had said to her and there was a strong clinging of his heart to this fragile little girl who said at last very softly and alo. You mean it, Neil? Mean what you say? Yes, he answered her, you must choose steerage or me. Then, Neil, she continued taking off her engagement ring and putting it into his hand. I am afraid it must be steerage. There is your ring. It is all ended between us. And it is better that it is so. I have thought for some time that we could not be happy together with our dissimilar tastes. I should always be doing something you did not like in which I could not think was wrong. Besides this, we need not deceive ourselves longer with the hope that your mother will ever consent to our marriage, for she will not and as we cannot marry without it I think it better that we should part, not an anger, Neil. And she laid her hand caressingly upon his arm. We have loved each other too well for that. We will be friends always as we are cousins but never man and wife. We are free, both of us. And as she spoke there kept coming over her a most delicious sense of relief as if some burden were being rolled from her and the expression of her face was not that of a young girl who has just broken with the man she loved. And Neil felt the change in her and rebelled against it, saying that he would not give her up though she went steerage a hundred times and in his excitement he offered to marry her that day if she were willing and take her at once to his mother who would not shut the door against them when she knew the deed was done. But Bessie was resolute and Neil was obliged to abide with her decision but his face was very gloomy and there was a sense of pain and loss in his heart when at last he entered the carriage which was to take Bessie to the wharf. Mrs. Goodenough was to attend to the luggage and see that it was on board, consequently Neil was spared all trouble as Bessie meant he should be. The rain was still falling and there were many cabs and handsoms crowding the dock when Neil and Bessie reached it. Where will you go, with the steerage gang? If so for heaven's sake keep your veil over your face. I should not like to have any friend of mine who might chance to be here see you, Neil said impatiently and Bessie replied. I shall stay by Mrs. Goodenough till the tug takes us out. There she is now in the distance. I can make my way to her very well alone and as it is raining hard we had better say goodbye here in the carriage. You cannot help me any and she hesitated an instant and then added you might be recognized. Neil hated himself cordially and called himself a sneak and a coward but he followed Bessie's advice and drawing up the window of the carriage clasped her to his bosom as he said farewell telling her it was not forever that she was his still and he should come for her some day and claim her promise to him. Bessie did not contradict him. She knew he was suffering greatly and she pitted him while all the time there was in her heart a little song of gladness that she was free. Taking his face between her hands she kissed it tenderly and said, Goodbye, Neil, and may God bless you and make you a good and noble man. I know you will never forget me. Too much has passed between us for that but you will learn to be very happy without me. Goodbye. She touched his lips again. Then opening the door herself she sprang to the ground before he could stop her. Don't get out. Goodbye. She said waving him back as he was about to alight and opening her umbrella and pulling the hood of her waterproof over her head she started in the direction of Mrs. Goodnough leaving Neil with such a tumult of thought crowding his brain as nearly drove him wild. If he had not fancied that he saw one of his London equatances in the distance he might have followed Bessie but he could not be seen for fear that the reason for his being there should come out and it become known that a MacPherson was allowed to go to America as a steerage passenger. So he sat a moment and watched the little figure with the waterproof hood over its head making its way to where a rough looking woman was standing with an immense cotton umbrella over her sun bonnet and evidently waiting for someone. And so Bessie vanished from Neil's sight and he saw her no more. Back to the hotel. He said to the cabman who obeyed willingly while Neil, always on the alert, closed the windows lest he should be seen and recognized. But the air was closed and hot and when he thought himself out of danger he drew the window down and looked out just in time to meet the eyes of Grey Gerald who was driving in an opposite direction. There was an exclamation from Grey, a call for both cabmen to stop and before Neil could collect his senses the two carriages were drawn up side by side and he was shaking hands with Grey through the window. So glad I happened to meet you, Grey said. I wanted to say good-bye for I am up for America. America, Neil repeated and his lower jaw dropped suddenly as if he had been seized with paralysis. Yes, Grey rejoined. I sail in the Germanic with my Aunt Lucy. She came down to Liverpool yesterday with some friends. I shall find her at the wharf. I have just arrived in the train from Chester. I was in London for a day but I called at your house to see you and learned that you were out of town so I left a little note for you. Neil and Grey spoke very low as we do when we speak of the dead. I have been in Prussia, Austria and Russia since I left Italy but I know I ought to have written and told you how sorry I was for, for what happened in Rome. If it had not been for my Aunt I believe I should have gone back and helped you. I... Here Grey stopped for since his interview with Jack Trevelyan he had never mentioned Bessie's name to anyone and he could not do so even now to Neil who having no idea of the mistake under which Grey was laboring and supposing he of course was referring to Daisy replied with an indifference which made Grey's flesh creep. Yes, thanks. They told me how kind you were and I ought to have written you but I had so much to see to. I trust I may never go through the like again. Those landlords are perfect swindlers the whole of them had ought to be indicted. He spoke excitedly and Grey gazed at him in blank astonishment. Was he perfectly heartless that he could speak thus of an event the mere remembrance of which made Grey's heart throb with anguish? Had he really no abiding love for Bessie that he could speak thus of the trouble and expense her death had caused him? Grey could not tell but he was never as near hating Neil MacPherson as he was that moment and he felt a greater desire to thrash him than he had done at Melrose when the star spangled banner was insulted. He could not pursue the subject further and he changed the conversation by speaking of Jack Trevelyan from whom he had not heard since he left him in Vienna weeks before. I have written to him he said but have received no answer. I have also written to Miss Meredith with a like result and conclude I have no friends this side the water so I am going home. You can count on me for a friend always, Neil said with a sudden gush of warmth as he extended his hand adding hurriedly and now I must say good-bye as I have an engagement. Au revoir and bon voyage. Good-bye. Grey answered a little coldly and the carriages moved on greatly to the relief of Neil who had been in a tremor of fear lest Bessie should be inquired for and he be obliged to tell where she was. During his interview with Grey his conscience and his pride had been waging a fierce battle the latter bidding him say nothing of Bessie who possibly might not be seen during the voyage as she had promised to keep strictly out of the sight of the saloon passengers and unless necessary not to tell anyone except her aunt that she had crossed a steerage. Thus the disgrace might never be known. But his conscience bad him tell Grey the truth and ask him to find Bessie on shipboard and do what he could to lighten the dreariness of her situation. Why he did not do this Neil could not tell and when the opportunity was passed he cursed himself for a miserable coward and actually put his head from the window to bid the cab man turn back and overtake the carriage they had met. Ten chances to one if I find him now. I'll write and confess the whole thing he finally decided and so went back to the hotel where he passed a miserable three hours until it was time to dress for the dinner at the house where his mother was visiting. It was quite a large dinner party consisting mostly of matrons and elderly men so that Neil's presence was hailed with delight and he was the center of attraction for at least four young ladies among whom Blanche was conspicuous. But Neil had no heart for anything and seemed so silent and absent-minded that his mother whispered to him in an aside. What ails you, Neil? Surely you are not fretting after that girl. She knew Bessie was to sail that afternoon and that Neil was to see her off but she was not prepared for the white face which he turned to her or the bitter tones in which he said. Yes, I am fretting for that girl as you call her and I would give half my life to be with her this minute but she is gone. She is lost to me forever and I wish I were dead. To this outburst Lady Jane made no reply but as she looked into her son's face there flashed upon her a doubt as to the result of her opposition to Bessie and the question as to whether it would not be better to withdraw it and let him have his way. The girl was well enough or would be if she had money and this she would unquestionably get from the old maid aunt. She would wait and see and meantime she would give Neil a grain of comfort so she said to him, I had no idea you loved her so much. Perhaps that aunt may make her rich and then she would not be so bad a match. You must marry money. Yes, Neil must marry money if possible but he must marry Bessie too and as he looked upon the broken engagement as something which could easily be taken up again he felt greatly consoled by his mother's words and for the remainder of the evening was as gay and agreeable as Lady Jane could wish. But still there was always in his mind the picture of a forlorn little girl wrapped in a blue waterproof with a hood over her head disappearing from his sight through the rain and he was constantly wondering what she was doing and if Gray Gerald would find her. 7. ON THE SHIP Never in her life had Bessie felt so utterly desolate and friendless as when she said goodbye to Neil and threaded her way through the crowd of drays and cabs and express wagons to where Mrs. Goodnough was waiting for her. All her former life with the dear old home lay behind her while before her was the broad ocean and the uncertainty as to what she should find in far-off America. Added to this there was a clinging in her heart to Neil whom she had loved too long to forget at once and although she felt it was far better to be free she was conscious of a sense of loss and loneliness and inexpressible homesickness when she at last took her seat in the tug which was to take her and her fellow companions to the steamer moored in the river. Oh how damp and close it was on the boat especially in the dark corner where Bessie crouched as if to hide herself from view. She had promised Neil to avoid observation as much as possible and keeping her hood over her head she tied over it a dark blue veil which hid her face from sight and hid too the tears which fell like rain as she sat with clasped hands leaning her aching head against Mrs. Goodnough who though a rough uncultivated woman had a kind motherly heart and pitied the young girl who she knew was so sadly out of place. There were not many cabin passengers on the ship and these were too much absorbed in finding their state rooms and settling their luggage to pay any attention to or even to think of the few German and English immigrants who went to their own quarters on the middle deck. And so no one noticed the girl who clung so timidly to the Welsh woman and who shook with cold and nervousness as she sat down upon the berth allotted to her and glanced furtively around at the people and the appointments of the place. Everything was scrupulously clean but of the plainest kind and a steerage seemed written everywhere. There was nothing aristocratic in Bessie's nature and if necessary she would have broken stone upon the highway and still Neil himself could not have rebelled more hotly against her surroundings than she did for a few moments feeling as if she could not endure it and that if she stayed there she must throw herself into the sea. Oh I cannot bear it I cannot. Why did I come? She said as she felt the trembling of the vessel and knew they were in motion. Oh can't I go back? Won't they stop and let me off? She cried convulsively clutching the arm of Mrs. Goodenoff who tried to comfort her. There there darling don't take it so hard. She said tenderly caressing the fair head lying in her lap. They'll not stop now till we are off Queenstown when there will be a chance to go back if you like but I don't think you will. America is better than Wales. You will be happy there. Bessie did not think she should ever be happy again but with her usual sweet unselfishness and thoughtfulness for others she tried to dry her tears so as not to distress her companion and when the latter suggested that she go out and look at the docks of Liverpool and the shores as they passed she pulled up her hood and tied on her veil and with her back to anyone who might see her from the upper deck where the first class passengers were congregated she stood gazing at the land she was leaving until a chilly sensation in her bones and the violent pain in her head sent her to her birth which she did not leave again for three days and more. She knew when they stopped at Queenstown and was glad for a little respite from the rolling motion which nearly drove her wild and made her so deadly sick but she did not see the tug when it came out laden with Irish immigrants of whom there was a large number of these the young girls and single women were sent to the rear of the ship where Bessie lay half unconscious of what was passing around her until she heard the sound of suppressed weeping so close to her that it seemed almost in her ear opening her eyes she saw a young girl sitting on the floor with her head upon the berth next to her own sobbing convulsively and whispering to herself oh me father me father my heart is breaking for you what will you do without your Jenny when the nights are dark and long oh me poor old father I wish I had never come we might have starved together poor girl Bessie said pityingly as she stretched out her hand and touched the bowed head I am so sorry for you is your father old and why did you leave him at the sound of the sweet voice so full of sympathy the girl started quickly and turning to Bessie looked at her wonderingly then as if by some subtle intuition she recognized the difference there was between herself and the stranger whose beautiful face fascinated her so strongly she said oh lady and sure you be a lady even if you are here with the likes of me I had to leave my father we was so poor the taxes is so high and there is so big entirely and the landlord are threatening of us to set us in the road any fine morning and so I'm going to a medicaid to take a place me cousin left me to be married and if I does well and sure I try me best I gets two pounds a month in ivory penny all saved to bring the old father over but you cannot be going out to work and have you left your father my father is dead and mother too Bessie answered with a sob I have left them both in their graves I am going out to work but I have no place waiting for me like you and I do not know of a friend in the world who can help me in faith then you can just count on me Jenny Mahoney the impulsive Irish girl exclaimed stretching out her hand to Bessie you spoke kind like to me when my heart was fit to break and it's me self will stand by you and take care of you too as if he was the greatest lady in the land as you might be for I knows very well that the likes of you has not to do with the likes of me and if them spalpeen stairs to come around a spear and at you it's me self will shovel out their eyes with me nails I know them they are on every ship and they are on this I heard one of them say when I come aboard by Joe Hank that's a neat bitty I think I'll cultivate her cultivate me and date I'll hang him let him come and I you or me the black guard Bessie had no definite idea what the girl meant by spalpeens and black guards whose eyes she was to shovel out but she remembered what Neil had said about her attracting the notice of the upper deck passengers and resolved more fully than ever to keep herself from sight as much as possible she had a friend in Jenny to whom she put numberless questions as to where she was going and so forth but Jenny could not remember the name of the lady or the place her cousin who had married lately and lived in New York was to tell her everything on her arrival it is a good place she said and if it's companion or the like of that year wishing to be us make a good work to the lady who me cousin says is mighty queer but very good and kind when she takes a fancy Bessie smiled as she thought of an offer of help coming from this poor girl but she did not resent the offer on the contrary she felt comforted because of it and because of Jenny whose faithfulness and devotion you know stint or cessation during the next 24 hours when it seemed to Bessie that she must die both from the terrible seasickness and the close atmosphere of the cabin where so many were congregated the fourth day out Mrs. Goodenoff said Bessie must be taken into the fresh air as nothing else would avail to help her and then Jenny took her in her strong arms and carrying her out put her down as gently as if she had been a baby and faith you must be covered she said as faint and sick Bessie leaned back against the door thus fully disclosing to view her white beautiful face which made such a striking picture among the steerage passengers and began to attract attention from the upper deck it had already been rumored through the ship that there was a young lady in the steerage and as it takes but little to interest a ship's company much curiosity was felt concerning her and when it was known that she had come out from the cabin quite a little group gathered in the part of the boat nearest to her and stood looking down at her oh me honeys Jenny said frowning savagely at them I'll spy your fun for you and it's not her blessed face you shall stare at though the sight of it might do you good and rushing to her birth she brought out Mrs. Goodenoff's big son bonnet which she tied on Bessie's head thus effectually hiding her features from sight there Jenny continued as she contemplated the disfiguring headgear with great satisfaction them spalpeans can't see you now and if they heave you down anything it's me self we'll heave it back for what business have they to be taken things from the table without the captain's slave and thrown them to us as if we was a lot of pigs it's just stealing and nothing else the fresh air and change did Bessie good and protected by the sun bonnet and Jenny she sat outside until sunset and was then carried to her birth that night the wind changed causing the ship to roll in a most unsatisfactory manner and Bessie who was exceedingly sensitive to every motion was not able to go outside again but lay on her bed whiter a great deal than the pillow under her head and with a look of suffering on her face which touched the kindhearted Jenny to the quick and sure she'll be throwing up every blessed thing she'll ate for the next year she said if I could only right side up her stomach I wonder if an orange would do it and counting her little stock of money six shillings and all she took a few pennies and going to the stewardess bad her by two of the finest and sweetest oranges in the butler's pantry here honey here's what will turn that nasty creep in sickness and make you feet like the top of the morning she said to Bessie and she sat down beside her and held a piece of the juicy fruit to her lips and Bessie was trying to take it when a voice outside said to Mrs. Goodenoff I heard there was someone very sick and I've come to see if I can do anything for her the next moment a middle-aged lady with grayish hair and a sweet sad face came in and going up to Jenny said is this the sick girl for a moment Bessie's face was scarlet and there was a frightened look in her blue eyes as she regarded her visitor who continued very gently I am sorry to find you suffering so much my nephew gray has been sick all the voyage or I should have been down here before what can I do for you her nephew gray Bessie repeated the words to herself as she stared in bewilderment at the face bending over her recognizing in it or fancying that she did a resemblance to the face which had looked so pityingly at her by her dead father's bedside and which whether waking or sleeping haunted her continually was this woman grays Aunt Lucy of whom she had heard so much and was he there on the ship with her and would he know by and by that she was there and come to see her then she remembered Neil and her promise to let no one know who she was less he should be disgraced so when Miss Gray sat down beside her and taking the hot hands in hers said to her please tell me what I can do for you and pardon me if I ask your name she sobbed piteously no no oh no I promised never to let it be known that I was here I am not ashamed but he is and I can tell only this I am very poor and I'm going to America to earn my living I had no money for a first-class ticket and so I came in here they are very kind to me Jenny and Mrs. Goodnough I am going out with her are you an American yes I am Miss Gray from Allington I will help you if I can was the reply and then Bessie's tears fell faster as she cried thank you no you must not talk to me you must not come again please go away or I shall break my promise to Neil the name dropped from her lips unwittingly and Miss Gray repeated it to herself trying to remember why it seemed so familiar to her and as she thought and looked wonderingly at the tear-stained face the impulse of Jenny broke in and please your ladieship if you'll go away now and leave Miss Bessie to be easy for a little I'm sure she'll see you again Bessie Neil Miss Gray repeated aloud and then she thought of Gray's friend Neil McPherson and remembered there was a cousin Bessie of whom she too had heard could this be she impossible and yet so strong an impression had been made upon her that as she passed out and met Mrs. Goodnough who she knew had the young lady in charge she said to her I hope you will let me know if I can do anything for Miss McPherson did she tell you her name Mrs. Goodnough asked in surprise for Bessie had confided to her the fact that as far as possible she was to be strictly incognito on the ship Miss Lucy was sure now and with her thoughts in a tumult of complexity and wonder she hurried away to the stateroom of her nephew end of chapters five six and seven part three chapters eight nine and ten of Bessie's fortune by Mary Jane Holmes this LibriVox recording is in the public domain eight Gray and his aunt Gray had been very sick the entire voyage since the day when he heard that Bessie was dead he had lost all interest in everything and though he went wherever his aunt wished to go it was only to please her and not because he cared in the least for anything he saw from flossy he had never heard for her letter did not reach him and he had no thought that Bessie was alive and everywhere he went he saw always the dear face white and still as he knew it must have looked when it lay in the coffin sometimes the pain in his heart was so hard to bear that he was half tempted to tell his aunt of his sorrow and crave her sympathy but this he had not done and Bessie's name had never passed his lips since he heard she was dead at last alarmed by the pallor of his face and the tired lysis manner so unlike himself Lucy suggested that they go home and to this gray readily assented but first he must see Bessie's grave and at London he left his aunt in charge of some friends who were going home in the same ship and would see her to Liverpool he was going to Wales on business he said and as she knew he had been there two or three times before Lucy asked no questions and had no suspicion of the nature of the business which took him first to Carnarvon where a last fruitless search was made for Elizabeth Rogers or some of her kin and then to Stoneley which he reached on an early morning train the same which took Bessie to Liverpool thus near do the wheels of fate oftentimes come to each other in her hurry to secure a compartment Bessie did not see the young man alighting from a carriage only the fourth from the one she was entering and as both Anthony and Dorothy who were at the station with her went across the bridge to do some errands before returning home no one observed Gray as he hurried along the road to Stoneley and entering the grounds stood at last by the new grave in the corner close to the fence where he believed Bessie was lying bearing his head to the falling rain which seemed to cool his burning brow he said aloud darling Bessie can you see me now do you know that I am here standing by your grave and do you know how much I love you surely it is not wrong to kneel for me to whisper to your dead ears the story of my love oh Bessie I have come to say goodbye and my heart is breaking as I say it if you could only answer me could give me some token that you know it would be some comfort to me when I am far away for I am going home Bessie to the home over the sea where I once hoped I might take you as my wife before I knew of Niels prior claim but so long as life lasts I shall remember the dear little girl who was so much to me and here I pledge my word that no other love shall ever come between us I have loved you I have lost you but thank God I have not lost your memory goodbye darling goodbye he stooped and kissed the rain wet sod above the grave then walked swiftly away in the direction of Bangor and took the first through train to Liverpool on arriving at the hotel he learned that his aunt had already gone to the wharf with her friends and taking a cab he too was driven there meeting with Neil who confounded and disgusted him with his apparent indifferences and heartlessness absorbed in his own sad reflection Gray had no thought for any of his fellow passengers whether steerage or cabin and it disguised by her hood and veil Bessie might have brushed against him without recognition so he had no idea how near she was to him and as the motion of the ship soon began to affect him he went to his state room where she scarcely left again for several days once when the doctor was visiting him his aunt who was present asked if there were many sick among the steerage passengers and if they were comfortable there was but one who was very sick the doctor replied and her case puzzled him she seems so superior to her class and so reticent with regard to herself I will go and see her Lucy said in that afternoon she made her visit to Bessie with the result we have seen puzzled and curious she went next to her nephew whom she found dressed and in his sea chair which had been brought into his state room he was better and was going on deck as soon as the steward could come and help him sitting down beside him Lucy began rather abruptly I have heard you talk a great deal of Neil MacPherson whose father is brother to Miss Betsy MacPherson of Allington and I have heard you speak of a Bessie MacPherson do you know where she is Gray's face was white as marble while a spasm of pain passed over his features as he said oh and Lucy you do not know how you hurt me why do you speak of her because I have a suspicion that she is on the ship Lucy replied but Gray shook his head mournfully as he said to her that is impossible Bessie is dead she died in Rome last spring she was sick with the fever all the time we were there and I was with her every day but did not tell you as I knew you would be so anxious for me and when she died I could not talk of her to anyone poor little Bessie she was so young and sweet and pure you would have loved her so much yes Lucy said taking one of Gray's hands and holding it caressingly for she guessed what was in his heart tell me about her if you can you say she is dead and you are sure yes sure he answered I did not see her die it is true but I know she is dead and I have stood by her grave at Stonely when I left you in London I went to her grave and I believe I left all my life and soul there with her I never thought I could talk to any one of her but it seems a relief to me now to tell you about her shall I yes tell me Lucy said and closing his eyes and leaning back weirdly in his chair Gray told her everything he knew with regard to Bessie McPherson who had died in Rome and whose grave he had stood beside in the yard at Stonely told her to of Bessie's engagement to Neil of which he had heard from Jack Trevelyan and of Neil's apparent heartlessness and indifference when he met him in the streets of Liverpool poor little Bessie he said in conclusion you don't know what a weary life she led or how bravely she bore it but she is dead and perhaps it is better so than if she were the wife of Neil poor boy Lucy said very gently when he had finished his story you loved Bessie very much yes I loved her so much that just to have her mine for one brief month I believe I would give twenty years of my life Gray replied and every word was a sob for he was moved as he had never before been moved even when he first heard that Bessie was dead all thoughts of going on deck were given up for that day and when the steward came to help him up the stairs he helped him instead to his birth where he lay with his eyes closed though Lucy who sat beside him knew he was not asleep for occasionally a tear gathered on his long lashes and dropped upon his cheek late in the afternoon Lucy made her way again to the steerage quarters for thoughts of the sick girl had haunted her continually though she did not now believe her to be the Bessie whom Gray had loved and lost but who was she and who was the Neil of whom she had inadvertently spoken and why was she so like the Bessie Gray had described blue eyed golden haired with a face like an angel she repeated to herself as she descended the stairs to the lower deck and walked to the door around which several women were gathered with anxious concern upon their faces nine Bessie is promoted she is took very bad mom one of the women said to Lucy as she stood aside to let her pass into the close hot cabin where Bessie was talking wildly and incessantly of her father and a mother and of Gray while Mrs. Goodnoff and Jenny tried in vain to quiet her what is it how long has she been this way Lucy asked and the valuable Jenny replied and sure mom just after you left is struck to her head and she went out of herself entirely and goes on awful about her father and a mother who died in Rome with the favor and is buried in some stone heap with the likes of it and of Gray Jerry who she says is on the ship and won't come to her and sure would you be so kind as to try yourself what you can do talking of Gray Lucy repeated 10 times more perplex than she had been before how does she know my nephew and who is she then turning to Mrs. Goodnoff she continued there is some mystery here which I must solve I fancied this morning that she might be Bessie McPherson of Stonely Park Bangor but my nephew tells me that she died in Rome and if so who is this young girl oh madam Mrs. Goodnoff began there can be no harm in telling you now though she didn't want anybody to know not for herself she ain't a bit ashamed but some of her high friends is and made her promise to keep to herself who she was but you are bound to know and she is Ms. Bessie McPherson of Stonely and she is not dead at all and never has been she had the fever in Rome but she got well and it was her mother who died there this is the truth and may God forgive me if I have done harm by my tatling you have done no harm Lucy replied put on the contrary a great good to Ms. McPherson whom I shall at once have removed to my stateroom fortunately I am alone and can share it with her as well as not what Lucy Gray willed to do she went about at once and in less than an hour she had interviewed the captain the purser and the doctor and while the passengers were at dinner Bessie was lifted carefully in Jenny's strong arms and taken to Ms. Gray's stateroom where she was laid upon the lounger under the window as the place where she would have more room and better air the change seemed to revive her at once and when after her dinner Ms. Gray returned to her stateroom she found Bessie sleeping quietly with the faithful Jenny keeping watch beside her the next morning she was still better and Jenny who had insisted upon sitting beside her during the night was delighted to find her fever gone and her reason restored very wonderingly Bessie looked around her when she first awoke from asleep which had lasted several hours and then as her eyes fell upon Jenny she asked what is it Jenny what has happened this is not the steerage where am I and indeed you are in heaven and that's the angel who brought you here Jenny replied nodding toward Ms. Gray who came at once to Bessie's couch bending over her and kissing her gently she said I am glad you are better yes Bessie answered falteringly but what is it how came I here in as few words as possible Lucy explained to her that she had discovered her identity and could not allow her to remain where she was it was not right for me to have this large room all to myself and leave you in that cramped crowded place she said and Bessie answered her yes it was kind in you but I am sorry you found me out I promised no one should know me Neil will be so angry and disgraced dread that Neil whoever he is Jenny exclaimed energetically disgraced indeed I only wish I had him by the scruff of his neck if he thinks anything can disgrace you or make you less a lady them smells and they are awful sometimes when have the folks is sick can't do it at this speech Bessie laughed aloud the first real laugh since her mother died but it did her good and when Jenny had washed her face and brushed her hair and given her her breakfast she declared herself able to get up but this Lucy would not allow you must be quiet today and tomorrow you can go on deck she said and then as Jenny had gone out she sat down by Bessie's side and taking one of her hands continued do you think you are strong enough to see an old friend by and by Bessie knew she meant gray and the hot blood surged into her face as she answered eagerly yes oh yes he will bring stonely back to me he was so kind when father died and in Rome and everywhere can I see him now not just yet Miss Gray said smiling at the young girl's eagerness which showed itself in every feature I doubt if Gray is yet up he has been sick all the voyage and is very weak and I must prepare him first he thinks you are dead dead Bessie repeated how can he think so I do not understand as briefly as possible Miss Gray explained all she knew of the mistake which the messenger boy must have made when he told Gray in Florence that Bessie had died the very day he left Rome oh well I'm going to go back to oh yes I see Bessie rejoined it was the American girl on the same floor with me Flossie told me of her and I heard them taking her away that night oh it was so sad and Mr. Gerald thought it was I was he sorry Miss Gray she asked the question timidly and into her eyes there came a look of great gladness when her friend replied yes very very sorry will you tell him I am not dead it was poor mama who died tell him I am here Bessie continued and Miss Gray looked curiously at the girl who being as she suppose engaged to kneel could be so glad that Gray was sorry and so eager to see him yes I will tell him and bring him to you after a little but you must be quiet and not excite yourself too much I must have you well when we reach New York and we have only three days more Miss Gray replied and then with a kiss she went away to Gray's state room at the other end of the ship but he was not there and upon inquiry she learned that he had gone up on deck where she found him in his chair sitting by himself and gazing out upon the sea with that sad troubled look on his face which had of late become habitual and of which she now knew the reason Gray she said drawing an unoccupied chair close to him and speaking very low you are better this morning do you think you can bear some very good news yes he answered her what is it are we near New York than we supposed no it has nothing to do with New York or the ship but somebody in it Gray and Lucy spoke hurriedly now did it never occur to you that possibly you were mistaken with regard to Bessie's death that it might be someone else who died in Rome and was buried at Stonely her mother perhaps what and Gray drew a long gasping breath as he stared wonderingly at her go on he added tell me what you mean I mean his aunt replied that Bessie is not dead I have seen her I have spoken with her she is on the ship she is in my state room waiting for you she is the sick girl I told you about Gray made an effort to spring from his chair but had not the power to do so the shock had been too great and he sank back half fainting whispering as he did so tell me everything now at once it will not harm me joy seldom kills tell me the whole she told him all she knew and the particulars of her finding Bessie among the steerage passengers and having her removed to her room yes I see I understand how the mistake occurred Gray said but why did not Neil tell me he had been to see her off he was probably ashamed to let you know that she was in the steerage he hoped you would not find her Miss Gray replied and Gray exclaimed the coward if it were not wrong I should have him while a fierce pang shot through his heart that Bessie was bound to Neil and that though living she was no nearer to him than if she were dead and in that grave by which he had so lately stood still it would be something to see her again to hear her voice to look into her eyes and have her all to himself for the remainder of the voyage which he now wish had just commenced thank God she lives even though she does not live for me he said to himself and then at his aunt suggestion he tried to control his nerves and bring himself into a quieter calmer condition before going down to see her it was nearly an hour before he felt himself strong enough to do it and when at last he reached the narrow passage and knew there was but a step between him and Bessie he trembled so that his aunt was obliged to support him as he steadied himself against the door of the stateroom glancing in for an instant Miss Gray put her finger on her lip saying to him she is asleep sit quietly down till she wakens there was a buzzing in Gray's ears and a blur before his eyes so that he did not at once see distinctly the face which lay upon the pillow resting on one hand with a bright hair clinging about the neck and brow Bessie had fallen asleep while waiting for him and there was a smile upon her lips and a flush upon her cheek which made her more like the Bessie he knew at Stonely than like the white-faced girl he had left in Rome and whom he had never thought to see again it is Bessie and she is alive he said under his breath and bending over her he softly kissed her forehead saying as he did so my darling just for the moment mine if Niels buy and buy for an instant Bessie moved uneasily then slept again while Gray watched her with a great hunger in his heart and a longing to take her in his arms and in spite of a hundred Niels tell her of his love how beautiful she was in that calm sleep and Gray noted every point of beauty from the sheen of her golden hair to the dimpled hand which was just within his reach poor little hand he said laying his own carefully upon it how much it has done for others oh if I could only call it mine it should never know toil again he might have raised it to his lips if just then the eyes had not enclosed as with a start Bessie awoke and looked wonderingly at him for an instant then instead of withdrawing her hand from his she held the other towards him and raising herself up cried out oh Mr. Gerald I am so glad nothing is half so dreary now that I know you are on the ship and you will tell Neil it was not my fault that you found me he may be very angry at the mention of Neil a feeling of constraint crept over Gray and he quietly released his hands from Bessie's last he should say to her words he ought not to say to one who was flighted to another and Bessie noticed the change in him and her lip quivered in a grieved kind of way as she said you thought me dead and you were sorry just a little oh Bessie and with a mighty effort Gray managed to control himself you will never know how sorry or how glad I am to find you still alive but you must not talk to me now you must rest so as to go on deck and get some strength and some color back in your cheeks I promised auntie not to stay long I will come again by and by drawing the covering around her as definitely as a woman could have done he went out and left her alone to wonder at his manner Bessie had never forgotten the word spoken to her in Rome and which she had said he must never repeat over and over again at intervals had sounded in her ears I love you with my whole heart and soul and whether you live or die you will be the sweetest memory of my life she had not died she had lived she had seen him again and found him changed perhaps it was better so she reasoned and yet she was conscious of a feeling of disappointment or loss though it was such joy to know he was near her and that by and by he would come to see her again and he came after lunch and the steward carried her on deck and wrapped her in this Gray's warm rug and Gray himself sat down beside her and talked to her of America and she told him that she was not going to be a burden to her aunt or even a guest very long but to work and earn money with which to pay her debts and Gray let her do most of the talking and even promised if she did not succeed in Allington to see if he could find something for her to do in Boston I am very sure I could find you a situation there if I tried he said with a merry look in his eyes which was lost on Bessie whose thick veil was over her face and who was gazing off upon the waves bearing her so fast toward the strange land to which she was going the next day she was able to walk the deck for some hours with Gray as her attendant and when at last a land was in sight she seemed almost as well and bright as ever as she stood looking eagerly upon either shore and declaring America beautiful as a picture it had been arranged that she should stop for a few hours at the hotel with Miss Lucy and Gray and then go on with them to Allington but their plans were changed when they reached the wharf for they were met by a messenger who had been sent from Mr. Burton Gerald with the intelligence that Gray's mother was very ill and that Lucy must come at once with Gray without stopping at her own home I am sorry for I wish to take you to your aunt myself Lucy said to Bessie adding after a moment but I will give you a letter of introduction if you like no thank you Bessie replied I would rather go to her alone so that if she is kind I shall know it is to me and not to you or because she thinks it will please you no danger of that Gray said laughingly she is a great stickler for the naked truth as she expresses it and all the aunt Lucy's in the world could not make her say she liked you if she did not she is a singular specimen but she is sure to like you and if she does not go to my aunt Hannah she would welcome you as a godsend she is the auntie who lives in the pasture land I shall soon come to Allington and see you he added as he bad or goodbye for he and his aunt were to take the express which did not stop at Allington and she was to take the accommodation which did he had made all the arrangements for her and had seen that her baggage was checked and her ticket bought but still she felt very desolate and helpless when he left her and she was alone with Jenny who stayed by her to the last promising to let her know if she heard of any situation either as governance or companion Mrs. Goodnough had gone at once with her daughter who had met her at the wharf but Jenny's cousin who lived out of the city had sent her husband to the ship and as he was porter in one of the large warehouses I did not go home till night Jenny had leisure to attend to Bessie whom she saw to the train and to whom she said at parting keep your veil down honey for their spot beans and black guards everywhere and they might be for spakin to ye goodbye God bless ye 10 Bessie meets her aunt the accommodation train from New York to Boston was late that day there was a detention at Hartford and another at Springfield so that the clock on Miss Betsy McPherson's mantle struck seven when she heard the whistle of the locomotive as the car stopped at the Allington station as Miss Betsy was when we last saw her so she was now tall and angular and severe and looking as she sat in her heart straight back chair like the very embodiment of the naked truth from the fit of her dress to the scanty handful of hair twisted in a knot at the back of her head she had heard of Daisy's death from her brother only a few days before and had felt a pang of regret that she had treated her quite so harshly on the occasion of her visit to her I might at least have been civil to her though it did make me so mad to see her smirking up into my face with all those diamonds on her and to know that she was even trying to fool young Alan Brown and then her thoughts went after Bessie for whom her brother had asked help saying she was left entirely alone in the world and was for odd he knew a very nice girl it is impossible for me to care for her he wrote and as my wife paid all the expenses of her sickness in Rome and for bringing the body home she will do no more so it rests with you to care for Bessie I should think you would like some young person with you in your old age in my old age Miss Betsy repeated to herself as she sat thinking of John's letter yes I suppose it has come to that for I am in my sixties and the boys call me the old woman when I order them out of the cherry tree and still I feel almost as young as I did 40 years ago when Charlie died oh Charlie my life would have been so different had you lived and in the eyes usually so stern and uncompromising there were great tears as the lonely woman's thoughts went back to the long ago and the awful tragedy which had darkened all her life and then it was that in the midst of her softened mood a little girlish figure dressed in black came up the steps and knocked timidly at the open door Bessie had left her luggage at the station and walked to the house which was pointed out to her as Miss McPherson's by a boy who volunteered to show her the way and who said to her she's a queer old Cove and if you don't mind your fees and queues she will take your head off she's game she is this was not very reassuring and Bessie's heart beat rapidly as she went up the steps to the door she saw the square straight figure in the chair and was prepared for the quick sharp come in which answered her knock adjusting her spectacles to the right focus Miss Betsy looked up at her visitor in that scrutinizing inquisitive manner usual with her and which made Bessie's knees shake under her as she advanced into the room who are you the look seemed to say and without waiting to have it put into words Bessie went straight to the woman and stretching out her hand said imploringly oh and Bessie do you remember a little girl who came to you on the terrace of Aberats with years ago little Bessie McPherson to whom you sent a ring here it is and she pointed to it upon her finger and I am she Bessie and mother is dead and I I am all alone and I have come to America to you not to have you keep me not to live upon you but to earn my living to work for money with which to pay my debts 250 pounds to Lady Jane for mother's sickness and burial and 5 pounds to Anthony that is the sum 255 pounds will you let me stay tonight can you find me something to do Bessie had told her whole story and as she told it her face was a study with its look of eagerness and fear and the bright color which came and went so rapidly but as she finished speaking left it white as ashes Miss Bessie's face was a study too as she regarded the girl fixedly until she stopped talking then motioning her to a chair she said sit down child before you faint away you are pale as a cloth take off your bonnet and have some tea I suppose you are hungry she rang the bell for Susan to bring hot tea and toast which she made Bessie eat pressing it upon her until she could take no more now then she said when the tray had been removed one can always talk better on a full stomach so tell me what you want and what you expect me to do but sit over there where I can see you better and don't get excited I shall not eat you at least not tonight she wanted Bessie in a good light where she could see her face from which she never took her eyes as the girl repeated in substance what she had said at first making some additions to her story and speaking of the ship in which she had come but not of Miss Lucy or Gray where did you get the money it cost something to cross the ocean Miss Bessie asked a little sharply and Bessie replied it did not cost me much for I came out as a steerage passenger I had just enough for that and my ticket here you came in the steerage and in her surprise Miss Bessie arose from her chair and walked once or twice across the floor while Bessie looked at her wistfully wondering if she too were ashamed like Neil but shame had no part in Miss Bessie's feelings which were stirred by a far different emotion resuming her seat after a moment she said and you have come here to work to earn money what can you do I thought I might teach French perhaps and German I am a pretty good scholar in both Bessie replied and her aunt rejoined French and German fiddle sticks there are more fools teaching those languages and there are idiots to learn them why my washer woman's daughter is teaching French at twenty five cents a lesson though she can no more speak it than a jack-daw French indeed you must try something else or you will never earn that two hundred and fifty five pounds this was not very encouraging and Bessie felt the color dying her face and her heart sinking as she said I might so I am handy with my needle I have made all my own dresses and Dorothy's too yes you might so and twist your spine all out of shape and get the liver complaint Miss Bessie interposed and then poor Bessie fearing that everything was slipping from her said with a choking sob I might be a housemate to someone surely there are such situations to be had and I would try so hard to please and even work for less than the other girls have more experience oh aunt Betsy you must know of some place for me you will help me to find one you do not know how greatly I desire it or how poor I am these are the only boots I have and she put out a much worn boot which had been blacked until the leather was nearly cracked apart and this is my only decent dress except a dark calico but I do not care so much for that it is not clothes I want it is to pay that money to Lady Jane the tears were falling like rain from Bessie's eyes and starting again from her chair Miss McPherson went to an open window and shut it as if she were called then returning to her seat she said abruptly I thought he were engaged to Neil he wrote me to that effect Bessie's face was scarred it as she answered I was engaged to him then I am not now did he break it or you was the next question I broke it was the low response why came next for Miss McPherson and Bessie replied he did not wish me to come a steerage and bad me choose between that and him and as I must come and had no money for a first class ticket I gave him back the ring and he was free are you sorry this was spoken sharply and Miss McPherson's little round black eyes rested curiously upon Bessie who answered promptly no oh no I am very glad it is better so we were not suited to each other I should think not and again the strange woman arose and going to the window opened it as if in sudden heat then returning to her knees she continued were you an earnest when you said you would take a position as housemaid yes was the reply and Miss McPherson went on do you think you could fail it I know I could I have been housemaid at home all my life we never kept any female servant but Dorothy there was a moment silence while Miss McPherson seemed to be thinking and then she said will you take that place with me with you Bessie repeated a little bewildered and her aunt replied yes with me why not better serve me than a stranger my second girl Sarah was married a few weeks ago more fool she and I have no one as yet in her place if you will like it and feel it as well as she did I will give you what I gave her two dollars and a half a week and more if you earn it what do you say I will take the place Bessie answered unhesitatingly feeling that singular as it might seem to serve her aunt she would rather do that than go to a stranger I will take the place and do the best I can and if I fail in some things at first he will tell me what to do how long will it take to earn two hundred and fifty pounds at two dollars and a half a week Miss Betsy must have felt cold again for she rushed to the open window and shut it with a bang while for an instance she wavered in her determination then thinking to herself I may as well see what stuff she really is made of she returned to Bessie who if she had not been quite so anxious and nervous would have felt amused at her eccentric behavior without telling how long it would take to earn two hundred and fifty five pounds at two dollars and a half a week Miss Betsy said then it is a bargain and you are my housemaid really and willing to do a housemaid's duties and take a housemaid's place do you understand all that means I think so Bessie answered wondering if she should have to share the cook's bed as if divining her thoughts her aunt rejoined one exception I shall make in your favor you will occupy the little room next my own at the head of the stairs you can go up there at once if you like and I will see that your trunks are brought from the station oh thank you Bessie said and in her eyes there was a look of gratitude which nearly upset Miss Bickverson's resolution again and did make her open the window as she passed it on her way upstairs with Bessie just as the room had been fitted up years ago when she was expecting the child Bessie just so it was now when the girl Bessie entered it the same single bed with its muslin hangings the same little bureau with its pretty toilet set now somewhat faded and passe in style but showing what it had been and in a corner the big doll with all its paraphernalia around it oh auntie Bessie cried as she stepped across the threshold what a lovely little room and it almost looks as if it had been intended for me when I was younger it was meant for you years ago when I wrote to your father and asked him to give you to me fool that I was I thought he would let you come but he did not and so the room has waited I never knew you sent for me Bessie said but father could not have spared me and oh auntie I cannot tell you how it makes me feel to know you have kept me in your mind all these years let me kiss you please and throwing her arms around her aunt's neck Bessie sobbed hysterically for a few moments while the stern face bending over her relaxed in its severity and Miss Bessie's voice was very kind and soothing as she said there there child don't get up a headache I'm glad you like the room glad you are here you had better go to bed and not come down again she did not kiss the girl but she put her hand on her head and smooth the curly hair and Bessie felt that it was a benediction when she was alone she sank upon her knees by the bedside and burying her face in her hands prayed earnestly that she might know what was right to do and be a comfort and help to the woman whose peculiarity she began in part to understand she was so glad to be there so glad for the shelter of a home that the fact of being a housemate did not trouble her at all though she did wonder what Neil would say and if he would not think it quite as bad as tearage and wondered too if gray would ever come to see her and if he would recognize her in her new position it will make no difference with great Gerald what you are something said to her and comforted with this assurance she fell asleep in her new home end of chapters eight nine and ten