 Part 2, chapters 11 and 12 of Bessie's Fortune by Mary Jane Holmes. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. 11. Christmas Day When Grey awoke the next morning there was a little pile of snow on the foot of his bed which stood near a window and more on the hearth which had sifted down the chimney while the wind was, if possible, blowing harder than on the previous night. You! Grey said as he rubbed his cold nose. I believe this beats Allington. How shall I ever get myself together? Just then Anthony came in with jugs of hot water and a huge soapstone on which he said the young man was to stand while he dressed himself. Sharp weather this even for whales, he began as he lingered a little and put back the curtains to emit more light. Sorry, sir, I cannot make you a fire. Hope the cold did not keep you awake. Never slept better in my life. I did not mind the cold at all, Grey said, and Anthony continued. Yes, you like air, Tisicki, my old woman says, and she sent me out last night for a pipe and some kubebs which you are to smoke three times a day. Nothing like kubebs for your disorder? Had it long? Thank you. No, sir. You are very kind, Grey said with a little groan as he wondered if the confounded things would make him sick in as much as he had never smoked in his life. Making his toilet with all speed and finding the soapstone and hot water great comforts to him, he hastened down to the dining room where he found Neil, looking rather tired and worn and out of sorts as if there was something on his mind. Neil had not slept well at all though after Archie he had the best bed in the best room in the house and his fire burned all night and was replenished by Anthony early in the morning. He had been restless and nervous and had lain awake for hours watching the flickering firelight on the wall, thinking of Bessie and wondering if she would not be frozen stiff before morning. He had known nothing of the exchange of rooms and when he heard footsteps in the North Chamber which adjoined his, though it did not communicate with it, he supposed it was Bessie and was surprised that she stepped so heavily and moved the chairs with such a jerk. At last, however, all was still. Bessie was asleep no doubt and did not feel the cold or hear the wind as he heard it moaning through the old yew-trees and screaming around the house as if it were some restless spirit trying to get in. Suddenly, however, there was a sound which made Neil start and listen and raise himself on his elbow to make sure he was not mistaken. No, I am not, he whispered to himself, it is a snore and he gave a groan as he thought. Bessie snoring and such snores, who would imagine that she could do anything so vulgar and unladylike? Heavens and earth, it is enough to raise the rafters. If I did not know Bessie was in there I'd swear it was a man. How can a girl and Bessie of all girls go it like that? And the fastidious Neil stopped his ears with his fingers to shut out the obnoxious sounds which grew louder as Grey's sleep became more profound. There was a feeling of keen disappointment in Neil's heart, a sense of something lost, or as if in some way he had been wronged and then he thought of Blanche and wondered if she snored and how he could find out. It would be a terror if she did she is so much larger and coarser every way than Bessie, he thought, as he finally put the pillow over his head so that he could not hear. At last, however, the sound ceased as Grey who only snored when he was very tired, half awoke and turned upon his side, nor was it resumed again. But Neil could not sleep for thinking of it and when at last he did fall into a restless slumber he awoke suddenly with the impression that Bessie was frozen to death in the next room and that Grey Gerald was trying to bring her to life and calling her his darling. All together it was a bad night for Neil and he was glad when Anthony came in and he knew he might get up. And thus it chanced that he was first in the dining room where he sat, gloomily regarding the fire, when Grey came in followed in a moment by Bessie, whose sweet girlish lips as she bade Merry Christmas to the young men did not look as if they could ever have emitted the sounds which were still ringing in Neil's ears and making him shudder a little. Oh, Mr. Gerald, she said to Grey after the morning greetings were over, didn't you almost freeze last night in that cold north room? I thought of you when I was awake and heard the wind howl so dismally. Never slept better in my life, I assure you, and I was far better pleased with the cold room than I should have been with the warm one. Grey replied. What? Neil exclaimed. Did you occupy the north room adjoining mine? Yes, was Grey's reply, and crossing the hearth swiftly to where Bessie stood Neil kissed her twice as he said. I am so glad. If Grey occupied the room then it was Grey who snored and not Bessie, who again went into the scales with a ten thousand a year and who looked up surprised and a little displeased at this salute before a stranger. Grey had wondered when he ought to present his Christmas gift and glanced around the room to see if Neil's was visible, but it was not, and he concluded to wait the progress of events. Breakfast was late that morning, for Dorothy's rheumatic feet and ankles were worse than usual and locomotion was difficult and painful, but with Bessie's assistance it was ready at last and the family were just seating themselves at the table when there was the sound of a vehicle outside with voices and a great stamping of feet as someone entered at the side piazza and came toward the dining room. Mother, it must be mother, Bessie cried, but Neil had recognized a voice he knew and said a little curtly. It is not your mother, it is Jack Trevelyan, and in a moment Jack stood in the room brushing the snow from his coat and wishing them a merry Christmas as he shook hands with each and turn. Hello, Gerald and Mac, you both here. This is a surprise, he said as he saw the two young men and something in his tone made the watchful Neil suspect that it was not altogether a pleasant surprise. Nor was it. Jack Trevelyan had never been able to forget the soft blue eyes which had shown upon him in London or the sweet mouth with its sorry expression which asked him not to play with the mother when he met her. No matter where he was those eyes had haunted him and the low earnest voice had rung in his ears until at last he had made up his mind that he would see her once more and then he would go from her forever for it would be madness to ask her to share his small income. The puny dick of Trevelyan Castle was dead and Hal was master there. Only one life now between Jack and Wealth and Bessie, but as once before he called himself a murderer so he had done again when he heard of Dick's death and pulling the wild thought from him he wrote to Hal just as he had written to Dick and told him he suppose he would be marrying now and settling down in the old home and then there came over him so intense a longing for Bessie that he resolved upon the visit feeling glad for the storm and the cold which would keep him in the house where he could have her all to himself. How then was he surprised to find both Neil and Grey Gerald the latter of whom he had met many times and between whom and himself there was a strong liking. But Jack was one who could easily cover up his feelings and he greeted the young men warmly and held Bessie's hand in his while he explained rapidly as if anxious to get it off his mind that he had gone to the George intending to take a room there as he had done before but had found it quite shut up and so he added laughingly, I have come here bag and baggage and if I spend the night as I should like to I shall have to ask for a bed or cot or crib or cradle anything will do. Bessie could not help glancing at Grey who detected the troubled look in her eyes as she assured the new arrival of her readiness to grant the hospitality he craved. In Grey's mind there could be no doubt now as to what Neil would do. He will offer to share his room with Jack, of course, he thought, and so perhaps thought Bessie. But into Neil's mind no such alternative entered. First come first served was his motto and besides, would business had Jack to come there anyway uninvited and unannounced? For his part he thought it rather cheeky and there was a cloud on his face all through the breakfast nor was it at all dispelled when after the meal was over Jack brought out a lovely seal skin cap and a pair of seal skin gloves which he had bought as a Christmas gift for Bessie and a handsomely bound edition of Shakespeare for Archie who he knew was very fond of the poet. Now was Grey's time and the work box was produced and Bessie's face was a study in its surprise and delight for Christmas presents of any value were rare with her and the cap and the gloves were just what she wanted and the box was so beautiful that there were tears in her eyes as she thanked the donors for their kindness and asked Neil if the gifts were not pretty. Yes, very, he said, inwardly cursing himself for an idiot that he too had not thought to bring anything. I never do think till it is too late, he said to himself, but then I never have any spare money while Grey is rich and Jack is his own master and entrenching himself behind these excuses he tried to seem at his ease though he was far from being so. In the course of the morning Grey managed to see Jack alone for a few moments and immediately broached the subject of the bed or cot or crib which the latter had bespoken. I am afraid it will be a crib, he said, unless you share my room with me and then he told of the North Chamber which he had insisted upon taking on account of his thysik which required so much fresh air. Thysik, Jack repeated, you have the thysik when I know you have climbed the Rige and Mont-en-Veg and have the mountains in Switzerland. Why you are the longest-winded fellow I ever knew. Still, I have the asthma so terribly that I could never sleep in Miss Bessie's room knowing she was freezing in that North Wing, Grey said, affecting a terrible wheeze. Yes, I see, Jack replied, a light beginning to dawn upon him. I see, and I am too sicky too and must have fresh air, so all chap if you'll take me in, I'm yours. But you will have to smoke Q-bebs, Grey rejoined. You remember Mrs. Opie's white lies and the potted spratts? My asthma has proved a sprat, and there is a clay pipe at this moment waiting for me in the kitchen, and pretty soon you will see me puffing like a coal-pit. Do you suppose they will make me vomit? No doubt of it, they are awful nasty, but I will be a coal-pit too if necessary. Jack said, ready for any emergency, but this was not required of him, and only Grey paid the penalty of the white lie and smoked Q-bebs until everything around him grew black, except the stars which danced before his eyes and he was so dizzy he could scarcely stand. The day passed rapidly and both Jack and Grey enjoyed it immensely, especially the latter, who conducted himself as if he were perfectly at home and had known Bessie all his life. After the dinner which proved a great success, except that it was not served as Neil would like to have had it, by liveried servants instead of the hobbling Dorothy, Bessie announced her intention of washing the dishes to save the tired old woman's feet. Nonsense Bessie, Neil said to her in and aside, you surely will not do that before Jack and Grey, besides so much dishwasher will spoil your hands which are redden up now. But Bessie cared more for Dorothy than for her hands and proceeded with her dishwashing while Grey insisted upon helping her. I know how to wipe dishes, I've done it many a time for Aunt Anna, he said, while Jack preferred his assistants so earnestly that the two were soon habited in long kitchen aprons, that of Grey's having a bib which Bessie herself pinned upon his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to do it, her bright hair almost touching his mustache and her fingers, as they moved upon his coat sending strange little thrills through every nerve in his body. What sport they had, and how awkwardly they handled the silver and the china, Jack assuming the Irish brogue he knew so well, and Grey the Yankee dialect with the nasal twang which nearly drove Bessie into hysterics and made Archie laugh as he had not laughed in years. Neil was disgusted and thought the whole a most undignified proceeding and wondered what his mother in Blanche would say could they see it and if after all he had not made a mistake in coming to Stonely instead of going with them. He changed his mind however when after the dishwashing was over and the aprons discarded and the Irish brogue and Yankee dialect dropped he was alone a moment with Bessie who came shyly up to him and laying her hand red with dish-water on his arm said to him softly, Are you sick that you seem so sober? No, he replied, taking her hand in his and drawing her closely to him with his arm around her. I am not sick, but I cannot enjoy myself in just the way to rebellion and Gerald do. I think them rather too free and easy for strangers and quite too familiar with you. Don't let them make a fool of you. There was something very pathetic and pleading in his voice and it went to Bessie's heart and when he took her face between his two hands and kissed her lips she kissed him back again and then withdrew from him just as Jack and Gray entered the room. They had been out for a little walk after dinner and had returned reporting the weather beastly as Jack Travellian expressed it. But it is jolly here, Gray said, rubbing his hands and holding them to the bright fire. Just the night for wist, what do you say? He continued turning to Bessie, who having no objection to the game as she knew they would play it ascented readily and the round table was brought out and the chairs arranged for the four. Then arose the question, with whom should Bessie play? Naturally with me as I am the eldest and the last arrival, Jack said, while Gray rejoined laughingly, I don't know about that. I think we will draw cuts for her, the longest wins, and he proceeded to arrange three slips of paper in his hand. Be fair now, I can't trust you where a lady is concerned, Jack replied, while Neil maintained a dignified silence and when told to draw first drew and lost. Your turn next, Travellian, hurry up, faint heart never one fair lady. Suppose you try that one, Gray said indicating with his finger one of the two remaining slips. I shall not do it, there is some trick about it. You have fixed them, I shall take this, Jack said and he did and lost. I have won, the lady is mine, Gray cried exultingly as he held up the longest slip of paper. Then, leading the blushing Bessie to her chair, he took his seat opposite her and continued, Now I know you English are never happy unless you play for something and as none of us I hope would play for money, suppose we try for that knot of plaid ribbon at Miss Bessie's throat. I think it exceedingly pretty. There was a gleam of triumph in the glass which Bessie flashed upon Neal, for she had not quite forgiven him his criticisms upon the ribbon, which both Gray and Jack seemed to admire and which she consented to give to the victor. If your side beats he will draw cuts for the prize, Gray said to Jack, and if my side beats there is no cut about it it is mine. And so the game began, Neal bending every energy to win and feeling almost as much excited and eager as if it were a fortunate stake, instead of the bit of Scotch ribbon he had affected to dislike. And it did almost seem to him as if you were playing for Bessie herself, playing to keep her from Gray, the very man to whom he had said he would rather give her than to anyone else in the world, if she were not for him. The first game was Gray's, the second Neal's, then came the rubber and Bessie dealt. Oh, Bessie! Neal said in a despairing voice when he found that he did not hold a single trump, while Jack gave out the second time round, and Gray turned up five points making six and all. Suddenly the tide turned and Neal's was the winning side until they stood six and four, and then Gray roused himself and played as he had never done before, carefully watching the cars as they fell, knowing exactly what had been played, and calculating pretty accurately where the others were, and finally coming off victorious. The ribbon is mine, and I claim my own. Gray said, with a ring in his voice and a warmth in his manner, which brought the hot blood to Bessie's cheeks as she took the knot from her throat and presented it to him, blushing still more when he raised it to his lips and then pinned it upon his sleeve. What a cad he is! I'd like to knock him down if he were anyone but Gray, Neal thought, and, pushing back his chair from the table, he said he had had enough of cards for one night. Wist was a stupid game anyway, and he never had any luck. Neal was very quiet the remainder of the evening, though he could not altogether resist Gray, who was at his best, and kept them all in a roar of laughter at his jokes and the stories he told of the genuine Yankees whom he had seen in New England, and the Johnny Bulls he had encountered in England, and whose peculiarities of voice and expression he imitated perfectly. Then he recited poetry, comic and tragic and descriptive, and was so entertaining and brilliant, and so very courteous and gentlemanly in all he did and said, that Bessie was enraptured and showed it in her speaking face, which Neal knew always told the truth, and when at last he retired to his room he could not sleep, but lay awake, torn with jealousy and love and doubt as to what he ought to do. The next morning both Gray and Jack departed by different trains, for the latter was going to the Scottish house where Lady Jane and Blanche were staying, and then to Trevelyan Castle to see his cousin Howe, while Gray was going another way. And Neal said goodbye without a pang, but Bessie was full of regret, especially for Gray, whom she should miss so much and to whom she said she hoped she should see him again. I am sure you will, he answered. I am to leave Oxford next summer and join my Aunt Lucy who is coming in June for a trip on the continent. But before I go home I shall come here again, and I shall always remember this Christmas as the pleasantest I ever spent, and shall keep the knot of ribbon as a souvenir of Stonely and you. Goodbye, and with a pressure of the hand he had held in his all the time he was talking he was gone, and Bessie felt that something very bright and strong and helpful had suddenly been taken from her, and nothing left in its place but Neal, who by contrast with the American, did not seem to her quite the same Neal as before. 12. The Contract For nearly a week longer Neal remained at Stonely, growing more and more undecided as to his future course, and more and more in love with Bessie, whose evident depression of spirits after the departure of Jack Travalion and Gray Gerald had driven him nearly wild. All the better part of Neal's nature was in the Ascendant now, and he was seriously debating the question whether it were not wiser to marry the woman he loved and share his poverty with her than to marry the woman he did not love even though she had ten thousand a year. Yes, it was better he decided at last, and one day when Archie had gone to Bangor and he was alone with Bessie, who sat by the window engaged in the very unpoetical occupation of darning her father's socks he spoke his mind. The storm which was raging at Christmas had ceased and the winter sunshine came in at the window where Bessie was sitting, lighting up her hair and face with a halo which made Neal think of the Madonna's which had looked at him from the walls of the galleries in Rome. There, she said as she finished one sock and a removing it from the porcelain ball held it up to view. That is done and it looks almost as good as new. Then she took another from the basket and adjusting the ball inside, began the darning process again while Neal looked steadily at her. Had Gray Gerald been there he would have thought her the very personification of what a little house-wifely wife should be and would have admired the scale with which she wove back and forth over and under, filling up the hole with a depthness which even his aunt Hannah could not have excelled. But Neal saw only her soft, girlish beauty and cared nothing for her depthness and thrift. In fact he was really rebelling hotly against the whole thing. The socks, the yarn, the porcelain ball, and more than all, the darning needle she handled so skillfully. What had the future Mrs. Neal McPherson to do with such coarse things, he thought, as forgetful of his mother's anger he began. I say, Bessie, I wish you would stop that infernal weaving back and forth with that darning needle which looks so like an implement of warfare and makes me shudder every time you jab it into the wool. I want to talk to you. Talk on. I can listen and work too. I have neglected father's socks of late and have ever so many pairs to mend, Bessie said, pointing to the piled-up basket without looking at the flush digger face bending close to her. But when Neal took her hands in his and removing from them the sock and darning needle said to her, Bessie, I did not mean to tell you at least not yet, but I cannot keep it any longer. I love you and want you for my wife. She looked up an instant and then her eyes fell before the passionate face and she cried, Oh, Neal, you are not an earnest. You do not mean what you say. You cannot want me. I am so very poor. I must take care of my father and then there is—there is—oh, Neal, I am sorry if it is wrong to say it. There is my mother. She put the whole hard facts before him at once, her poverty, her father, for whom she must always care, and her mother, the greatest obstacle of all. I know all that. Don't you suppose I thought it out before I spoke? Neal said, drawing her closer to him as he continued. I am going to tell you the whole truth about myself and show you my very worst. I am a great, lazy, selfish fellow and have never in my life done any one any good. I have lived for myself and my pleasure alone. I am not one quarter as good as Gray Gerald or even Jack Trevelyan. At the mention of Gray Bessie gave a little start, for a thought of him seemed to cast a shadow over the sky, which for a moment had been very bright if Neal really and truly loved her. But the shadow passed as Neal went on rapidly. I never had any home training—that is, never met any opposition to my wishes. Everything bent to me until I came to believe myself supreme. But Bessie, I know that there is in me the material for a man, something like Gray Gerald. I speak of him because he represents to me the noblest man I ever knew and I always feel my inferiority when I am with him and show at my worst by contrast. You know what I mean. You felt his power when he was here—the tone of his voice, the way he put things, the indescribable something which makes him so popular everywhere. I don't know what it is. I would give the world if I possessed it. I have watched him many a time at Eaton and at Oxford and elsewhere, when he was surrounded by a lot of London swells, young lords and sons of Earls, who would cut me dead, but who took to the American at once and made him more than their equal. Once I asked him how he did it and if it were not an awful bore always to consider others before himself. I shall never forget the expression of his face as he hesitated a moment and seemed to be looking far off at something in the past. Then he said, Sometimes it is hard, but long ago when I was a boy I made a vow to live for others rather than myself, to try to make somebody happy every day with a kind word or act or look and only think if I live to a good old age how many people's lives will have been a little sunnier because of me. Suppose I commence this plan at fourteen and that I live to be seventy which is not very old, it will make over twenty thousand and that surely ought to atone for a great deal, don't you think so, and in a way my life is a kind of atonement. That is what he said or the substance of it and I have often thought of it and wondered what he meant by an atonement. In his enthusiasm over Grey Neil forgot for a moment what he had been saying to Bessie who had listened intently and who exclaimed, Twenty thousand people happier because of him. Oh Neil, that is worth more than the crown of England. I wish you, I wish we could be like him. You are like him, Neil said, coming back to his original subject. You make me think of him so much in your sweet forgetfulness of yourself and your thoughtfulness of others, and Bessie, I am going to try to be like him too, if he will help me, if you will be my wife by and by when I have made a man of myself and I'm more worthy of you. Will you, Bessie? Will you promise to be my little wife when I come to claim you? He had her face between his hands and was looking into her eyes where the tears were shining as she said to him, Neil, you do not know what you ask or all it involves. I cannot leave my father and there is Blanche. You are as good as engaged to her, you said so in your letter. I know I wrote you so, Neil said, because I wanted to fortify myself against doing just what I have done, but I shall never marry Blanche Trevelyan, if you tell me no I shall remain single forever, but you will not, Bessie. You will not destroy my last chance to be a man. You do love me I am sure, and you will love me more when you know all I mean to do. I shall not separate you from your father. He shall live with us, and Anthony and Dorothy too, though not here at Stonely, except it be in the summer when the roses are in bloom. Father has a small house in London and more requestant. He will let us live there and... and... Here, Neil stopped, for he remembered his mother's threat of disinheritance if he should marry Bessie, and he knew she was capable of performing it, and if she did, how was he to live even in that small house in more requestant? But Bessie's eyes were upon him. Bessie's upturned face was between his hands and poverty with her did not seem so very terrible. They could manage some way, but he would be frank with her, and he continued at last, Bessie, I shall not deceive you or pretend that mother will receive you at first, for she will not. She means me to marry Blanche and will be very angry for a time, and perhaps refuse to give me my present allowance so we may be very poor, but that I shall not mind if you are with me. Poverty will be sweet if shared with you who I know are not afraid of it. No, Neil, Bessie said, getting her face free from his hands. I am not afraid of poverty, and I do love you, but... But what, Neil cried in alarm as he caught her hands in his and held them fast. You are not going to tell me no. Surely you are not. No, Neil, I am going to tell you nothing as yet. I was only thinking that if we are so poor couldn't you do something? Couldn't you work? It was the same question put by the girl Daisy to the boy Archie years before in the old you-shaded garden, and as the boy Archie had then answered the girl Daisy, so the man Neil now made reply. I am afraid not, my darling. It is not in the MacPherson blood to work, and I dare not be the first to break the rule. Don't you think Grey Gerald would work if he were poor? Bessie asked, and Neil replied, Grey is an American and that makes a difference. Everybody works there, and it does not matter. Then let us go to America and be Americans, too, Bessie said, but Neil only shook his head and replied, I could never live in that half-civilized land of equality where the future president may be buttoned up in the jacket of my boot-black. I am an out-and-out aristocrat and would rather be poor and be jostled by nobility than be rich and brush against Tom, Dick, and Harry and have to bow to their wives. Bessie gave a little sigh, for this was not at all like Grey Gerald, whom Neil was going to imitate, but before she could speak he continued, we shall pull through somehow in London and in time they will come round when she finds I am determined. So, Bessie, it is settled, and you promise to be my wife when I can fix things. He was taking her consent too much for granted, and Bessie did not like it and said to him, No, Neil, it is not settled for sure. I can never be yours without your mother's sanction. Think what you would be taking upon yourself. Poverty, father, and me. The me would not be so very bad, Neil said, drawing her closely to him and caressing her hair as he talked, advancing argument after argument why she should consent to a secret engagement, the greatest argument of all being the influence such an engagement would have over him, helping him in his new resolution to be a man after the Grey Gerald order. For Grey's name was mentioned often in the strange plighting of vows, and when at last Bessie's consent was won to be Neil's wife as soon as his mother was reconciled. Her mind was almost as full of Grey as it was of Neil, who, now that she was his, became the most tender and devoted lover during his remaining stay at Stonely, and Bessie was happier than she had ever been in her life, though there was one drawback upon her happiness. She would have liked to have told her father, but Neil had said she must not and she obeyed, wondering to herself if Grey would have bound her to secrecy. Grey was a good deal mixed up in Bessie's thoughts after Neil was gone, and she often found herself thinking, more than twenty thousand happier because of him. Could any life be nobler than that, and why should not I imitate it? And then Bessie began the experiment of trying to make somebody happy every day. And the butcher's boy of whom she bought the meat, and the girl who brought the milk, and the man of whom she bought the bread, and the beggar woman who came to the door for cinders and cold bits, found an added graciousness of manner in the young girl who smiled so sweetly upon them, and interested herself so kindly in their welfare, and who, in her limited sphere, was imitating Grey Gerald and trying to make a few people happier, even though she could never hope like him, to number twenty thousand. End of chapters eleven and twelve. Part two, chapters thirteen through fifteen, of Bessie's fortune by Mary Jane Holmes. This Libra-Vox recording is in the public domain. Thirteen. The New Grey. That was what Neil signed himself in the first letter he sent to Bessie after his return to London, and in which he assured her that he was instant in season and out of season in his endeavors to be like the American and make himself worthy of the dearest little girl a man ever called his wife. He had born with perfect equanimity his mother's frequent abolition of temper, had read aloud to Blanche for two hours when she had a headache, although he wanted so much to go to his club, and had listened daily without a sign of impatience to his father's tiresome talk upon politics and the demoralized condition of the country generally. Then he told her how much he loved her, and how a thought of her and her sweet face was constantly in his mind, inspiring him to a nobler life than he had hitherto been living. And Bessie, as she read his letter, felt her love grow stronger for him, and her face grew brighter and lovelier each day, and there was a ring of gladness and hopefulness in her voice as she went singing about the house, thinking of the future which stretched so pleasantly before her, and in which she could be always with Neil, the New Grey. Sometimes she thought of the real Grey who was still at Oxford, which Neil had left for good. He was not fond of study and greatly preferred his idle, pleasant life at home, breakfasting when he pleased and as he pleased, either in bed or in the breakfast room, lounging through the morning, playing duets with Blanche, sorting her worst stints for her, or teasing her about the grotesque figure she was embroidering and calling shepherd boys and girls. The comfort and luxury of Trevelyan House suited him better than Stonely, and now that he was engaged and there was no probability of his marrying Blanche, her society was not half as distasteful to him as it had formerly been. Neither were her eyebrows as light nor her shoulder blades as sharp, and he began to think she really was a good natured kind of a girl and played splendidly. And then he remembered with a pang that Bessie did not play at all, except simple accompaniments to songs, and found himself wondering in a vague kind of way what people would say to a Mrs. Neil McPherson, who had no accomplishments except a sweet voice for ballad singing and a tolerable knowledge of French and German, which she had picked up when a child leading a Bohemian life on the continent. Bessie was neither learned nor accomplished nor fashionable, but she was good and pure and beautiful, and Neil loved her with all the intensity of his selfish nature and meant to be true to her. He wrote to her three times a week long letters full of love and tenderness and of great Gerald with whom he corresponded. Once he tried to tell his mother of his engagement. She had been speaking to him of Blanche talking as if everything were settled and asking why it were not as well to announce the engagement at once. Because, Neil said to her, I am not engaged to Blanche and do not know that I ever shall be. To tell you the truth, mother, I love my cousin Bessie better than any woman living, and if I had money of my own I would marry her tomorrow. This was a great deal for Neil to say, knowing his mother as he did, and possibly he might not have said it could he have foreseen the storm which followed his declaration. What she had once before said to him upon the subject was nothing when compared with her present anger and scorn as she assured him again and again that if he married Bessie MacPherson she would at once cut off his allowance and leave him to shirk for himself. That was the way she expressed it, for she could be very coarse in her language at times even if she were a titled lady. Bessie should never enter her house as her daughter-in-law, she said, and she would not only cut off Neil's allowance during her life, but at her death would leave what little money she had to someone else. Travellian perhaps, who would represent the family far better than her escaped-grace son with his low MacPherson taste? After this Neil could not tell her. On the contrary, he bent every energy to keep the secret from her and never again mentioned Bessie or Stonley in her presence, but devoted himself to Blanche in a friendly, brotherly kind of way which kept the peace in that quarter and left him in quiet. But his thoughts were busy with plans for the future when Bessie would be his wife and he disinherited for her sake. Once he calculated the possibility of living at Stonley on the meager annuity which he knew Archie received and which would die with him. But he could not do that, and he called himself a sneak for considering the matter an instant. If there was something I could do which would not compromise me, he thought, I might become an inventor or an author. I could do better at that, for I have some talent for yarning, they say. Wilkie Collins and George Elliott make heaps of money with their pens. Yes, I believe I'll try it. And so Neil shut himself in his room for some hours each day and commenced the story which was to make his fortune. But as Bessie sat for his heroine and Gray Gerald for his hero he became furiously jealous when he reached the love passages and tearing up his manuscript and his gust abandoned the field of authorship forever. Suddenly his thoughts turned to the old aunt in America whom his fancy painted as fabulously rich. She could help him and perhaps if he wrote her the right kind of a letter she would. And so he set himself to the task which proved harder even than the story writing had been. Neil knew his aunt Bessie was very eccentric and he hardly knew how to make her understand him without saying too much and so ruining his cause. By Job I'll tell her the truth, that I want money in order to marry Bessie, he said, and he took Bessie for his starting paint and waxed eloquent as he described her sweetness and beauty and told of her life of toil and care and self-denial at Stonely with her father whom he represented as just on the verge of the grave. Then he told of his engagement and his mother's fierce opposition to it and the sure poverty which awaited him if he remained true to his cousin as he meant to do and then he came to the real object of his letter and asked for money on which to live until his mother was reconciled as she was sure to be in time when she knew how lovely and good Bessie was. A few thousand pounds would suffice, he said, as he knew his father would allow him to occupy a house in more recrescent, which belonged to him and which would save his rent. And then growing bolder as he advanced he hinted at the possibility that his aunt might be intending to make Bessie her heir and said if it were so he should be glad to know it and would keep the secret religiously from Bessie until such time as he might reveal it. A speedy answer to this letter was desired and Neil closed by signing himself, your very affectionate nephew, Neil McPherson. He posted the letter himself and feeling almost sure of a favorable response went and bought Bessie a small solitaire ring such as he could afford and sent it with the most loving, hopeful letter he had yet written to her. 14. Miss McPherson and the letter Nine years had made but little change in Miss Bessie McPherson either mentally or physically, as she had been at the Thanksgiving dinner when we first met her so she was now, with possibly a little sharper tone in her voice and a shade more of eccentricity in her nature. As she lived alone then with her two servants so she lived alone now with the same cook in the kitchen but not the same housemaid to attend her. Flora had been married for five or six years to a respectable mechanic and lived in a small white house across the common with three children to care for, two boys and a girl. This last she had thought to call for her former mistress to whom she had timidly expressed her intention asking if she would be godmother. Flo is a fool to saddle her child with a name she hates, Miss McPherson thought, but she consented to act a sponsor and wore her best black silk in honor of the occasion when Sunday came and she took her accustomed seat in church. But her thoughts were evidently not upon the service for she knelt in the wrong place and once said aloud in her abstraction, Let us pray, and there was a twinkle in her round bright eyes and a grim smile on her face when she at last arose and straight and stiff as a darning needle walked up the aisle and took in her arms the little pink and white baby who was to bear her name. It was a pretty child and as she held it for a moment and looked into its clear blue eyes, fixed so questioningly upon her face, there came to her the thought of another little blue-eyed girl who had come to see her on the sands of Aberatswith and the touch of whose hands as they rubbed and padded the folds of her dress she could feel even now after the lapse of many years. That child had said to her that Betsy was a horrid name. This child in her arms would think so too and hated all her life, and when the clergyman said, name this child, she answered in a loud, clear voice which rang distinctly through the church, Bessy MacPherson. No, no, oh no! Flora gasped in a whisper. It is Betsy, ma'am, it is for you. Hush! I know what I am about! was whispered back, and so Bessy MacPherson and not Betsy was received into Christ's flock and signed with the sign of the cross and given to the happy mother happier than she dared to own because of the change of name. The next day five hundred dollars were placed in the Allington Savings Bank to the credit of Bessy MacPherson Bowen and the spinster washed her hands of the whole affair as she expressed it to herself. But she could not quite forget the child and when on the Monday evening after the christening she sat by her open fire with her round tea-table at her side there was a thought of it in her mind and she said to herself, I am glad I did not give it my name. Betsy is not very poetical and they are sure to call you Bets when they are angry at you. Bessy is better and sweeter every way. And then her thoughts went over the sea after that other Bessy, her own flesh and blood of whom she had not heard in years. It was very seldom that her brother John wrote to her and when he did he never mentioned Archie or his family and so she knew nothing of them except that Daisy was still carrying on her business at Monte Carlo and was known as an adventurous to every frequenter of the place. But where was Bessy? Miss MacPherson asked herself as she gazed dreamily into the fire. Was she like her mother, a vain coquette and a mark for coarse jests and vulgar admiration? For the girl must be pretty, she said. There was the promise of great beauty in that face and true, pure womanhood too, if only she were well brought up. And then through the woman's heart there shot a pang as she wondered if she had done right to leave Archie and his child to their poverty all these years. Might she not have done something for them and so perhaps have saved the daughter from sin? The little room at the head of the stairs was still kept just as it was when she was expecting Bessy. There was the big doll in the corner, the dishes on the shelf, and the single bed with its lace hangings was freshly made every month and by its side each night the lonely woman knelt and prayed for the little girl who had come to her on the sands and looked into her eyes with a look which had haunted her ever since. But of what avail was all this? Had she not to have acted as well as prayed? What was faith without works? And if Bessy had gone to destruction as most likely she had, was it not in part her fault? Such were the questions tormenting Miss MacPherson when at last Winnie came in to remove the tea things and brought with her a letter which she gave into her mistress's hand. It was Neal's letter and Miss Betsy examined it very carefully before opening it wondering who had written her from London and experiencing a feeling that its contents would not prove altogether agreeable. Adjusting her spectacles a little more firmly on her nose she opened it at last and read it through very slowly taking in its full meaning as she read and commenting to herself in her characteristic way. Two years before she had met an old acquaintance from London who knew Neal and disliked him, consequently the impression she had received of him was not altogether favorable. A good-looking well-meaning fellow, the man had said, but very indolent and selfish and proud with an inordinate love of money and respect for those who have it. And in this opinion the spinster was confirmed by his letter. Let me see, she said taking off her glasses and regarding the fire intently. He wishes me to send him a few thousand pounds to enable him to marry his cousin and live in idleness in his father's house on Morwick Crescent until his mother is reconciled and he wishes to know if I intend to make Bessie my heir. Know, my fine London gentleman, if Bessie ever has a fortune it will not be from me. Now if Neal wanted this money to set himself up in business, if he was going to work to earn his own bread and butter and support his family like an honest man, I would let him have it cheerfully. But work is the last thing he thinks about. It would degrade him. Ah, it makes me so mad, and she shook her head fiercely at the fire as she went on. But the girl, if he tells the truth, is the right kind of stuff, staying at home, caring for her father, wearing shabby clothes, and even washing the dishes, which I have no doubt hurts him the most. I rather like this girl, and for her sake I will give Neal a chance, though I don't suppose he will accept it. There are those cotton mills which I had to take on that debt of Parsons. They have been nothing but a torment to me for the want of a capable man to look after them. I will offer the situation to Neal with a salary of $2,000 a year and 10% of net profits, and I will let him have, rent free, the house which Carson occupied, and will furnish it too, and to have everything in running order when he gets here with his bride. That I call a right generous offer, but bless your soul, do you suppose he will take it? And she interrogated the fire which made no response, except that a half-dead coal dropped into the pan and went out into blackness. Of course he won't, she continued, for that would be doing something. But we shall see. I will write the letter to Knight, and ringing for her writing materials the old lady began her letter to Neal, telling him what she would do for him if he chose to come to America and try to help himself. The work is not hard, she wrote. It requires more thought and judgment intact than anything else, but it will bring you in contact with some very second class people, scum, if you choose to call them so, and with some of the excellent of the earth as well for all grades are represented in the meals, and for what I know, the future governor of Massachusetts is working there today. But if he is, you may be sure he has a book somewhere around and studies at every chance he gets, for in this way our best men are made. If you do not choose to take my offer, I shall do nothing for you, and Bessie will be a fool to marry anyone who does not care enough for her to be willing to work and support her. I have no intention of making her my heir. My will is made, and I do not often change my mind. Still, I have a fancy for the girl, have always had a fancy for her, and if you bring her to me on the terms I offer, you will never be sorry. This last Miss Betsy wrote because of the desire which kept growing in her heart as once it had before, to look again in Bessie's face, to hear her voice, to feel the touch of her hands, and in short, to have someone to love and be interested in, as something told her she could be interested in and love Bessie MacPherson. The letter was sent to Neal, and the same mail took another to a well-known banking house in London with which Miss MacPherson had business relations. To this house she gave instructions that the sum of one hundred pounds should at once be forwarded to Archibald MacPherson, who was not on any account to know from whom the money came. When her letters were gone she began again to build castles with regard to Bessie whom she was expecting in spite of her lack of confidence in Neal's willingness to accept her offer. In fancy she furnished the large stone house on the cliff above the mills which Bessie was to occupy, and furnished it with no sparing hand. In fancy she climbed the steep steps every day and went in and out with the freedom of a mother for such she meant to be to the young couple, both her own blood, and both seeming very near to her now when there was a chance of their coming to her and dispelling the loneliness of her monotonous life. But she kept her expectations to herself, not even telling them to Lucy Gray or Hannah Gerald, her most intimate friends, both of whom noticed a change in her, but did not guess why she seemed so much more cheerful and happy, or why she was so often in Wooster, inquiring the prices of china and glassware and household furniture generally. Once she was very near letting it out, and that was when Hannah was spending the afternoon with her and said, I have received a letter from Gray, who writes that he spent a day at Stoneley and saw your grand niece Bessie. What did he think of her, Miss Betsy asked, and Hannah replied. He thought her the loveliest creature he had ever seen. I do believe he is more than half in love with her, for I never knew him so enthusiastic over a girl before. Yes, Miss MacPherson said, and remembering what she knew Gray to be and what she feared Neil was, she thought, oh, if it were Gray and Bessie, and that night she dreamed that it was Gray and Bessie and that she tore down the house on the cliff overlooking the mill and built there a palace something after the fashion of Chatsworth, except that it was more modern in style and general appearance, and many pairs of eyes like those seen on the terrace at Aberystwyth looked into hers, and many little hands rubbed holes in her stuffed dress, and many little voices called her Grandma, the name she bad them give her in place of Auntie. 15. From January to March. Never had Neil been more gracious or agreeable than during the interval when he was waiting for the answer to his letter. He felt sure of a favorable reply and that Bessie would be his before the June roses were in bloom, and that of itself kept him in a happy frame of mind. He was very attentive to Blanche and very kind to his mother, and he wrote long letters to Bessie three times a week, and went to church every Sunday and gave a half penny to every little ragged child he met, and felt that Neil MacPherson was a pretty good fellow after all. At last the letter came, and Neil read it in the privacy of his room and being alone with no one to hear called his aunt a name which sounded a little like swearing, and paced up and down the apartment with the perspiration standing thickly around his white lips, and a feeling at his heart as if he were not only bitterly disappointed, but had also been insulted by the offer made to him. An overseer in some cotton mills. Factories they call them there. Not if I know myself, he said. I stoop to that. Never. The old woman is a fool. This with an adjective, and she evidently thinks she is doing a big thing. Two thousand dollars a year. Why, that is not much more than mother allows me now, and I am awfully hard up at times. No, Bessie, you must wait a little longer until something turns up as I am sure there will. An overseer. I and Neil's voice was indicative of the scorn and contempt with which he regarded an overseer of cotton mills, and the vast difference he felt there was between such an individual and himself. Neil was very sore and very much depressed, and his depression told upon his health, and he became so pale and haggard that his mother was alarmed and insisted upon his leaving England for a time and going down to Cannes in Southern France, where several of her friends were spending the winter. To this Neil made no objection and wrote to Bessie of his plans, and made himself out so great an invalid that Bessie felt a fear in her heart lest her lover should die and she be left in the world alone, in case she did not dare finish the thought or put into words her conviction that her father was daily growing weaker with less care for or interest in anything passing around him. This change for the worse had commenced with a heavy cold taken soon after the holidays and which none of Dorothy's prescriptions could reach. It was in vain that Bessie tried to persuade him to let her call a physician. No child, he said, it's nothing. I shall be better in a few days when the weather moderates. I do not want a doctor and if I did we are too poor. How much have we on hand? Bessie did not tell him the exact amount for fear of troubling him in his weak nervous condition. Their Christmas hospitalities had cost them dear and there was very little in the family purse with which to meet their necessities. Just after Neil's departure there had come a letter from Daisy who was a niece with some Americans whose acquaintance she had made in Paris and whose party she had joined. These American friendships cost a great deal, she wrote, for they stop at the most expensive hotels and I must have a parlor and bedroom in order to keep up appearances so I really have nothing to spare just now. But I send you a five pound note which I borrowed for you from Mr. Jack Trevelyan who came day before yesterday and told me of his visit to Stonely. If I am any judge he is more than half in love with you and when I said I was going to write and regret it that I could not send you any money as I was sure you must need it after so much company he insisted upon loaning me twenty pounds and when I refused so large a sum he made me take ten which I will divide with you. It was very generous in him and when I said I should pay him as soon as possible he begged me never to speak of it as he would gladly give ten times that sum to one as faithful and kind to her father as you are. Jack is a good fellow and there is only one life between him and a title I hear. Try for him Bessie. I know you can get him. Write him a little note and tell him how kind it was in him to loan me the money. That will be a beginning but you need not say how much of it I sent you as he designed it all for you he might not like it if he knew I kept half. How is your father? The last time I was home I really thought he was threatened with softening of the brain he seemed so sleepy and stupid and forgetful give him my love and believe me always you're affectionate mother Daisy MacPherson PS I hear Lord Hardy has returned from Egypt and is expected here I am glad for a sight of him will do me good he is the best friend I ever had and the first except of course your father such in part was Daisy's letter which Bessie read with an aching heart and cheeks which burned with shame she wanted money sadly for her boots were giving out of the sides and the butcher's bill was unpaid and her father needed wine and jellies attempted sickly appetite and keep up his failing strength but she would have gone barefoot and denied herself food for a week sooner than touch the five pound note her mother had rung from Jack Trevelyan her recent guest it was begged it is a charity it burns my hand she said as she held the note between her thumb and finger I will not have it in the house and the next moment it was blackening on the fire where the indignant girl had thrown it together with her mother's letter which her father must never see oh how for an instant Bessie loathed herself as she thought of her mother and saw in fancy the whole sickening performance and niece their daily jesting and bad an ad with those people around her second-class American she was sure or they would not take up her mother but worst of all was the interview with Jack Trevelyan whose feelings had been wrought upon until he gave her ten pounds because of her poverty oh it is too horrible but I will pay it back sometime she said and kneeling by the firelight with her hot tear-stained face buried in her hands Bessie prayed earnestly that in some way she might be unable to pay this debt to Jack Trevelyan in her excitement she did not then regret that she had burned the note though she knew that it was a rash act and that it necessitated extra self-denials which would tell heavily upon her with strong black linen thread and a bit of leather she patched her boots she dressed and undressed in the cold for she would allow no fire in her room she never tasted meat or tarts or sweets or delicacies of any kind but contented herself with the simplest fare and piled her father's plate begging him to eat and watching him with fever shanghai as her mother's dreadful words rang in her ears softening of the brain was that terrible disease stealing upon him would the time come when the kind eyes which now always brightened when they rested on her would have in them no sign of recognition and the lips which spoke her name so lovingly utter only unmeaning words it was terrible to contemplate and Bessie felt she would rather see him dead than an imbecile but what should I do with father gone she said and her thoughts turned to Neil who would surely take her then even if he took her into poverty and so in a measure Bessie was comforted and watched her father with untiring vigilance and felt that he was slipping from her and that in all the world there was for her no ray of joy except in Neil's love which she never doubted and without which her heart would have broken it was so full of care and pain and it was just when her heart was saddest because her father had that morning called her Daisy and when she corrected him had said yes but I can't think of your name words go from me strangely at times everything is confused that Neil's letter came bringing her fresh cause for anxiety and seeming with its brevity and strangeness to put him farther from her than he would be in can whether he was going that night Bessie cried herself to sleep and was so weak and sick the next morning that Dorothy persuaded her to stay in bed and to brought her up her breakfast of toast crisp and hot with a fresh boiled egg and a cup of tea which she declared would almost give life to a dead man but Dolly Bessie said you should not have brought me the egg they are two pence apiece and father must have them all can't you keep it and warm it up for him warm up an egg bless the child and Dorothy left till the tears ran you can't warm over a boiled egg so eat it down it will do you good and you are growing so thin and pale here is a letter for your father but as he is asleep I brought it to you taking the letter Bessie examined the address which was a strange one to her evidently it was on business and as nothing of that kind could mean anything but fresh anxiety and annoyance to her father she resolved to know the contents and if possible keep them from the week invalid so she broke the seal and read with astonishment that Messers blank and blank bankers in Lombard Street London had been instructed by one who did not wish his name to appear to send to Mr. Archibald MacPherson of Stonely Bangor the sum of 100 pounds and enclosed was a check for the same oh Bessie exclaimed as she sprang up and began to dress herself rapidly one hundred pounds why we are rich and father can have everything he wants I wonder how much a bottle of Johannes burger wine would cost then they're crept into her mind the question who sent it was it the honorable John was it Neil or and Bessie's heart stood still a moment and then beat with a heavy pain or was it Jack Trevelyan who had done this because of what her mother had told him of their needs it was like him she knew but if it were he she could never touch the money and without a word to her father of the letter she wrote at once to Messers blank and blank Lombard Street asking if it were Mr. Trevelyan and saying if it were she must return the check as they could not keep it direct your answer to me she wrote as I transact all my father's business for him in two days the answer came very stiffly worded but assuring her that the donor was not Mr. Trevelyan and that her father need have no scruples about taking the money and would have none did he know from whom it came this satisfied Bessie who took the letter to her father confessing all she had done and with him trying to guess who had been so kind to them I can't think of no one except my aunt in America Archie said and she is not likely to remember us in this way after so many years silence if I thought it were she I would write to her Bessie said and at all events I will write to somebody and thank them and send the letter to Messers blank and blank in London they know who it is and will forward it for me accordingly the next Bangor mail for London boring at a letter from Bessie to their unknown friend dear madam or sir whichever you may be she began I wish I could tell you how much joy and gladness and relief to your generous gift of 100 pounds brought to both father and me God bless you for it and may you never know the want and actual need which made your gift so very welcome that instead of shrinking from it we could only cry over it and be glad that somewhere in the world there was somebody thinking and caring for us every night of my life I shall pray for you and if I ever know who you are and meet you face to face I will try and thank you better than I feel that I am doing on paper yours gratefully and sincerely Bessie McPherson P.S. if as Papa half suspects you are his Aunt Betsy I am doubly glad because it shows that you sometimes think of us in the old home at Stonely and I wish you would write a few words to father it will do him so much good and he is so sick and helpless and lonely and I dare not tell you what I fear only he sometimes forgets my name and his own two and costings different from what they are oh if he should die I should die too this was sent to Messrs. Blank and Blank with instructions to forward it to the donor but Messrs. Blank and Blank were very busy with other matters and forwarding letters of thanks they had just written to Ms. McPherson that her orders had been obeyed and the money paid and so Bessie's letter was put aside and forgotten for weeks and even months when an incident occurred which brought it to their minds and it was forwarded to Ms. McPherson end of chapters 13 through 15 part 2 chapter 16 and 17 of Bessie's fortune by Mary Jane Holmes this LibriVox recording is in the public domain 16 from March to June when Bessie knew that the money was really theirs when she had it in her hand and counted the bank notes her happiness knew no bounds and she felt richer than Blanche Trevelyan ever had with 50 times that sum to her that hundred pounds represented so much actual good and comfort for her father for whom she would use nearly all of it but first she must pay back Jack Trevelyan and she said to her father may I have ten pounds of this to do with as I like I promise to make good use of it yes child he answered it is all yours to do with as you please so she sent ten pounds to Jack and wrote I returned the money you were so good as to loan mother ten pounds she said it was it was very kind in you to let her have it and I know you meant it well you could not mean otherwise but please mr. Trevelyan for my sake don't do it again yours truly Bessie McPherson this done Bessie paid the butcher and the baker and the grocer and a part of what they were owing Anthony and Dorothy and bought herself a pair of shoes and then religiously put by what was left to buy the medicines and dainties the beef tea and wine and jellies and fruit which were to nurse her father back to health physically and mentally but it would take more than fruit or jelly to repair a constitution never strong and now greatly weakened by disease every day Archie grew weaker while Bessie watched over and tended him with anguish in her heart and a terrible shrinking from the future when he would be gone forever from Neil she heard often but his letters did not do her much good they were so full of regret for the poverty which was keeping her from him and would keep her indefinitely for aught he knew from her mother she seldom heard that frivolous butterfly was too busy and gay to give much time or thought to her dying husband and overburdened child she was still at Nice and still devoted to her American friends the Rosseter Browns as they called themselves to the great amusement of their neighbors who had known them when they were playing Mr. and Mrs. Isaac R. Brown of Massachusetts or as they were familiarly called Miss Brown and Ike but they were rich people now a turn in the wheel had made Ike a millionaire and transformed him into a Mr. Rosseter Brown and with his wife and his two children Augusta and Alan he was doing Europe on a grand scale and Mrs. Rosseter Brown an ambitious but well-meaning woman had taken a violent fancy to Daisy and had even invited her to go home with her in June offering to defray all her expenses out and back if she would do so and I have made up my mind to go Daisy wrote to Bessie in May I have often wished to see America and shall never have a better chance than this though not the most refined people in the world the Rosseter Browns are very nice and very kind to me Lady June I dare say would call them vulgar in second-class and I am inclined to think they are what their own countrymen call shoddy they have not always been rich as they are now indeed Mrs. Rosseter Brown makes no secret of the fact that she was once born did her own washing which is very commendable in her I am sure by some means or other either oil or pork or the war they have made a fortune and have come abroad to spend it in a most princely manner Mrs. Rosseter Brown is good-looking and wears the finest diamonds at Nice if I accept some of the Russian ladies but her grammar is dreadful her style of dress very conspicuous and her voice loud and coarse Augusta the daughter is 20 and much better educated than her mother she is rather pretty and stylish but indolent and proud Alan the son is 22 tall light-haired good-natured and dantified kisses his mother night and morning calls her ma and his father pa and his sister sis drives fast horses wears an eyeglass carries a cane and affects the English drawl pair Rosseter Brown is a little dapper man with a face like a squirrel at breakfast which is served in their parlor he eats with his knife and forces tea into his saucer in spite of Augusta's disgust and his wife's open protestations now angeline you shut up with your falder all he will say with the most imperturbable good humor at tabla don't I can behave with the best of them but in my own room I'm going to be comfortable and take things easy like and if I want to cool my tea in my saucer I shall miss MacPherson don't think no less of me for that you bet they have given me a standing invitation to breakfast with them when I like it don't cost no more for five than for four mr. Rosseter Brown says and as juicy beef steaks and mutton shops and real cream have a better relish than rolls and tea I accept their hospitality in this as in many other things they take me everywhere and I am really quite useful to them in various ways none of them speak French at all except Augusta and she very badly but she is improving rapidly for I hear her read both French and Italian every day and help her with her pronunciation then I have introduced them to a great many people among whom are some English lords and ladies and German barons and Baroness says and as all Americans don't on titles not withstanding their boasted democracy so mrs. Rosseter Brown is not an exception but almost bursts with dignity when she speaks to her Yankee friends of what lady so-and-so said to her and what she said to bear in blank she nearly fell on her face when I introduce her to Lord Hardy who has returned from Egypt and was here for a few days he took to her wonderfully or pretended that he did and she was weak enough to think he had an eye to Augusta's charms and asked if I supposed him serious in his attentions to her daughter and what kind of a husband he would make what an absurd idea Lord Hardy and Augusta Brown I laughed till I cried when I told Ted about it and asked him what he thought of it I might do worse he said and then walked away and that afternoon took mrs. Brown and Augusta over to Bill Franche Ted is very much changed from the boy whom I smuggled into the playroom at Monte Carlo as my cousin Susan and I can't get him near there now it seems that he lost a great deal of money one night and actually left the casino with the intention to kill himself but he had not the courage to do it though he told me he put the muzzle of the pistol to his forehead when a thought of his mother stayed his hand and the suicide was prevented she was in heaven he said and he wanted to see her again if he killed himself he knew he should not and so he concluded to live but made a vow never to play again and he has kept it and become almost as big a spoony as Jack Trevelyan by the way I saw Trevelyan the other day and when I said something about hoping to pay him his ten pound soon he told me you had paid it very kindly knew I am sure but I don't see where you got the money you might have kept it as he would never have pressed me for it and I could not pay it if he did my rooms cost me so much that I never have a shilling to spare and I do not go to Monte Carlo often for these Rossiter Browns profess to be very religious people Baptist I believe and hold gambling and great abhorrence so as I wish to stand well with them I have to play on the sly or not at all they have a house in New York and another in the country somewhere and a cottage at the seaside and they have a maid and a courier and Mrs. Rossiter Brown talks as familiarly with both of them as she does with me and I think feels more at ease in their society than in mine but she is a good woman and since commencing this letter I have decided to accept her invitation and accompany her to America they sail the last week in June and I shall manage to spend a few days at Stonely before I go how is your father write me soon and if you can do so please send me a pound or two I have so very little and I had to borrow of Ted who I must say loan to me rather unwillingly I thought while Trevelyan whom I tried cautiously never took the hint at all it must be I am going off and have not the same power over the men which I once had and yet Mrs. Rossiter Brown told me the other day that I was called the prettiest woman in Nice and said she was very proud to have me of her party what a fool she is to be sure this letter filled Bessie with disgust and anxiety to while for a moment there arose within her a feeling of rebellion and bitter resentment against the woman who got so much from life and left her to bear its burdens alone but I would far rather be what I am than what she is she thought and she wiped her tears away and stole softly to her father's room to see if he were still sleeping he was usually in a half unconscious condition now seldom rousing except to take his meals or when Bessie made a great effort to interest him and she did not guess how fast he was failing the second week in June Daisy came fresh and bright and eager and looking almost as young as Bessie who knew no rest day or night and was pale and thin and worn with a look on her face and in her eyes very sad to see in a young girl oh mother I am so glad you have come she cried and laying her head in her mother's lap she sobbed passionately for a moment while she said and you will not go away will not leave me here alone with no one to speak to all day long but Dorothy oh mother the loneliness is so terrible in life is so dreary to me for a moment Daisy's heart was stirred with pity for the tired worn girl and she half resolved to give up America and stay at home where she was needed but as the days went on and she saw just what life at Stonely meant she felt that she could not endure it and fondly stroking Bessie's hair and smoothing her pale cheek she told her she would not be gone long she should return in September and would positively remain at home all winter and take the care from Bessie your father will not die she said people live years with his disease he is better than when I first came home at least he is more quiet which is a gain and so Bessie gave it up and entered at last into her mother's anticipations of her journey and listened with some interest to what she had to say of the Rossiter Browns the best and the most generous people in the world for they were not only to bear all her expenses to and from America but Mrs. Brown had given her a 20 pound note for any little expenditures necessary for her journey I am sure I don't know why they fancy me as they seem to Daisy said unless they have an idea that I am a much more important personage than I am and that to take me home as their guests will raise them in the estimation of their friends they know the McPherson blood is good and they know about Lady Jane who Mrs. Brown persists in thinking as my sister-in-law did I tell you that the Rossiter Browns old home is near Allington where your father's aunt is living no Bessie replied looking up with more interest in her manner well it is Daisy continued and I mean to beard the old woman in her den and conquer a piece she has heaps of money the Browns say and is greatly respected in spite of her oddities and is quite an aristocrat in the little place in as I suspect is far above Mrs. Rossiter Brown who wishes to show me to her she does not guess how the old woman hates us all and so Daisy rattled on with her small tiresome talk to which Bessie sometimes listened and sometimes did not the Rossiter Browns were in Leamington now but were coming through Wales on their way to Liverpool and Mrs. Brown and Augusta were to stop for a day or two at the George and take Daisy with them when they left I wish we could show them some attention Daisy said to her daughter don't you think we might manage a French tea in the garden at four o'clock we have some rare old China and some solid silver and Dresden linen and we could get Lucy Jones to wait upon us do you think we can do it perhaps we can Bessie replied reflecting that a French tea in the garden at four o'clock meant only thin slices of bread and butter with biscuits and possibly some little sponge cakes which would not cost much she could go without a pair of gloves and make the old ones do all extras came out of poor little Bessie but she was accustomed to it and did not mind and just now she was so glad to have her mother with her for Daisy as if a little remorseful for what she was about to do was unusually sweet and affectionate and kind and devoted herself to her husband as she had never done since Bessie could remember she washed his face and hands and brushed his hair and wheeled him out into the garden under the old you tree where he went slept on the summer morning while she kept the sun in the flies from him and stooping over him she asked if he remembered the little girl who used to come to him there when he was a boy Yes, that was Daisy he said but I have not seen her in many a year where is she now and he looked at her in a strange bewildered way then as the brain fog lifted a little and cleared away his chin quivered and he went on oh Daisy Daisy it comes back to me now the years that are gone and you as you were then I loved you so much and don't you love me now Archie she asked kneeling beside him with her white arms across his knees while she looked into his face with the old look she could assume so easily in which moved even this weak man laying his thin pale hands upon her head he burst into tears and said Yes, Daisy I have always loved you though you made no part of my life these many years and have you missed me have you been unhappy without me she asked and he replied Missed you Yes but I have not been unhappy for I have had Bessie no man could be unhappy with Bessie I think I will go in now and find her I am better with her and the birds are not singing here What birds Daisy asked looking curiously at him as with closed eyes he leaned wearily back in his chair and replied the birds which sing to me so often birds of the future and the past too I think they are for they sing sometimes of you but often are of Bessie and a journey far away where she is going to be happy when we are both gone and the winds are blowing across our graves over there and he pointed toward the little yard where his father and mother were lying side by side and where he soon would lie for an instant Daisy shuddered and fancied she felt a nice chill as if her husband's words were words of prophecy and a blast were blowing upon her from some dark cold grave but she was too young to die death was not for her these many years it was only waiting for this enfeebled man whom she wheeled back to the house where Bessie was and where the birds he heard so often came and sang to him up green fields and flowery meadows beyond the sea where he saw always Bessie with a look of rest and sweet content upon her face instead of the tired watchful waiting look habitual to it now and so listening to the birds he fell asleep as was his want and Daisy shook off the chill which had oppressed her and busied herself with the preparations for her journey Seventeen Mrs. Rossiter Brown In due time Mrs. Rossiter Brown and her daughter Augusta came to the George with their maid and took possession of the best rooms and scattered shillings and half-crowns with a lavishness which made every servant their slave Of course Daisy called bearing Bessie's compliments and regrets and then Mrs. Brown and Augusta came just only in the finest turnout which the hotel could boast for though the distance was short Mrs. Brown never walked when she could ride and on this occasion she was out for a drive to see the elephant of Bangor trunk and all for she was bound nothing should escape her which she ought to see if she died for it and she guessed she should before she got round home she was completely tuckered out with sight-seeing she said as she sank pantingly into an easy chair in the large cool room which Daisy had made very bright and attractive with fresh muslin curtains a rug a table spread and some tidies brought from Nice this room which was only used in summer had on the floor a heavy ax-minster which had done service for forty years at least but still showed what it had been and spoke of the former grander of the place as did the massive and uncomfortable chairs of solid mahogany the old pier glass against the wall and the clearly shaped sofa on which Daisy had thrown a bright striped shawl which changed its aspect wonderfully she wished to make a good impression upon her American friend and she succeeded beyond her most sanguine hopes with her ideas of the greatness and importance of the McPherson's who if poor were aristocrats Mrs. Brown was prepared to see everything cool out of the rose and the old wainscotted room and quaint furniture delighted her more even than the pretty little devices with which Daisy had thought to make the room more modern and heighten the effect if there's anything I don't on particularly it's on ancestry halls Mrs. Rossiter Brown said as she looked admiringly around her now them chairs which a Yankee would hide in the garret speak of a past and tell you you've been somebody a good while I give the world for such an old place as this at home but my land we are that new in America that the starch fairly rattles as we walk we are only a hundred years old you know had our centennial two or three years ago that was a big show I tell you most as good as Europe and better in some respects for I could be wheeled in a chair and see things comfortable while over here my land my legs is most broke off and I tell gusty all have to get a new pair if I stay much longer think of me climbing a pizza and Saint Peter's and other camping aisles in the country in that brass thing and Munich to boot where I thought I should have sweltered and all to say you've been there it's a park of nonsense I tell them though I suppose it does cultivate you and that reconciles me to it here the lady paused for breath and Augusta whose face was very red began to talk to Bessie of Wales and the wild beautiful scenery she was as well educated as most young ladies of her class and was really a very pretty lady like girl who expressed herself well and intelligently and was evidently annoyed by her mother's manner of speaking for she tried to keep the conversation in her own hands and Bessie who guessed her design helped her to do so and after a few moments Mrs. Brown arose to go and shaking out her silk flounces and pulling her hands to her ears to make sure her immense diamonds were not unclasped because as she said she would not for a farm lose her solitaries she said good morning and was driven away to see the elephant of Bangor and vicinity Bessie drew a long breath of relief as she saw the carriage leave the park and said oh mother how can you find pleasure in her society and are the Americans generally like her? not half as good as she some of them though vastly more refined and better educated Daisy replied warming up in defense of the woman who was so kind to her and whom she knew to be honest and true as steel there are plenty of ignorant vulgar women in England traveling on their money recently acquired who at heart are not half as good as Mrs. Brown she said and for that matter there are titled ladies too who know precious little more than she why old Lady Oakley once sent me a note in which more than half the words were misspelled and her capitals were everywhere except in the right place but she is my lady and so it is all right I tell you Bessie there is after all but little difference between the English and the Americans who as a class are better informed than we are and know ten times more about our country than we do about theirs Daisy grew very eloquent and earnest as she talked but Bessie was not convinced and felt a shrinking for Mrs. Rossiter Brown as from something positively bad and here she did the woman great injustice for never was there a kinder, truer heart than Mrs. Brown's and if in her girlhood she had possessed a title of her present fortune she would have made a far different woman from what she was for a few days longer she stayed at the George and astonished the guests with the richness of her toilets and the singularity of her speech which was something wonderful to her hearers who looked upon her as a specimen of Americans generally but this she would not permit and once when she overheard the remark that's a fair sample of them I suppose turned fiercely on the knot of ladies who she knew were discussing her and said if it's me you are talking up and thinking a fair sample let me tell you that you are much mistaken I ain't a sample of nothing I am just myself and Uncle Sam is not at all responsible for me unless it is that he didn't give me a chance when young to go to school I was poor and had to work for my living and my old blind mothers too she is dead this many a year but if she could have lived till now when I have so much more than I know what to do with I'd have dressed her up in silks and satins and brought her over the seas and flouted her in your faces as another sample of your American cousins who taken by and large are quite as refined as your English women and enough sight better informed about everything why only to other day one of them asked me what language was generally spoken in New York City and didn't a schoolgirl from Edinburgh ask Gusty if the people out west were not all heathens and if Chicago was near Boston I tell you ladies folks who live in glass houses should not throw stones you are well enough and nice enough and on voices you beat us all a holler for it is a fact that most of us bishars do high and talk through our noses awful and maybe you do that too if you lived in our beastly climate but as a rule you have not an atom more learning or refinement at heart than we thus speaking she sailed from the room with an air which would have befitted a grand duchess leaving her astonished auditors to look at each other a moment in silence and then to express themselves fully and freely and unreservedly with regard to American effrontery American manners and American slang as represented by Mrs. Rossiter Brown it was a day or two after this that the French tea was served in the Stoneley Garden with strawberries and cream and sponge cakes and Daisy did the honors as hostess admirably and Mrs. Rossiter Brown resplendent had garnet satin and diamonds sat in a covered garden chair and noted everything with a view to repeat it sometime in the garden of her country house at home she'd show him what was what she thought she'd let him know that she had traveled and had been invited out among the gentry for such she believed Daisy to be and she anticipated with a great deal of complacency the sensation which that airy graceful woman would create in Ridgeville the little place a mile or more from Allington where her husband's farm was situated and where stood the once old fashioned house but now a very pretentious residence which she called the Ridge House she was going there direct after reaching New York and thither numerous boxes had preceded her containing pictures and statuary and other trophies ever travels abroad and Daisy whose exquisite taste she knew and appreciated was to help her arrange the new things and then she'd give a smasher of a party she said as she sat in her garden chair and talked of the surprise and happiness in store for the Ridgevillians when she issued cards for her garden party I shan't slight nobody at all edible to society she said for I don't believe in that I shall have Miss Lucy Gray of course from Gray's Park where she is the cream dilly cream of Allington she and your aunt Miss MacPherson turning to Daisy and maybe I shall ask Hannah Gerald though she never goes anywhere that's Gray's aunt and now she nodded to Bessie who at the mention of the name Gerald evinced a little interest in what the lady was saying turning to Augusta who was eating her strawberries and cream in silence with a look of vexation on her face as her mother floundered on she said I think you told me you knew Mr. Gray Gerald yes, Augusta replied that is he once spent a summer in Allington and I went to the same school with him since then we have met several times in Allington and two or three times here still I really know very little of him who's that you know very little of? Gray Gerald Mrs. Brown chimed in well I call that droll have you forgot how often he used to come home from school with you and how he fished you out of the pond that time you fell in why he was that free at our house that he used always to ask for something to eat and would often add on something baked today you see he didn't like dry victuals such as his aunt Hannah gave him she is tight as the bark of a tree and queer too with it all it grated on Bessie's nerves to hear Mrs. Brown speak of Gray as if she were his equal and recognized as such at home and she was glad when Augusta said quietly but mother I was a little girl then six or seven years old and Gray felt at home at our house because she did not finish the sentence as she had evidently struck against a reef which her mother over leaped by saying yes I know Gray was always a nice boy and not one bit stuck up like his proud mother I hate Geraldine Gray yes I do and Mrs. Brown manifested the first sign of unamability which Daisy had ever seen in her but Daisy who remembered perfectly the haughty woman she had met at Penron Park years before hated her too and so there was a cord between her and her guest Mr. Gerald told me if his aunt who lives in the pasture in whom he loves very much do you know her Bessie asked and Mrs. Brown replied yes that's his aunt Hanner the one I told you was so tight she is an old maid and queer too lives all alone and saves and lays up every cent I believe she wears the same black gown now for best which she wore 13 years ago to her father's funeral he was a queer one too crazy some said and I guess was true he took a fancy to stay in one room all the time and would not let anybody in but Hanner and now he is dead she keeps that room shut up and locked some say I was at the funeral and Gray who was a boy took on awful and hung over the coffin ever so long he was sick with fever after it and everybody thought he'd die he was as crazy as a loon I watched him one night and he talked everything you could think of about a grave hit away somewhere under his bed he seemed to think and made me go down on all fours to look for it I suppose he was thinking of his grandfather so lately buried and then he kept talking about Bessie and asking why she did not come Bessie me the young girl exclaimed with crimson cheeks and Mrs. Brown replied no, taint likely it was you and yet let me see yes well I declare I remember now that his Aunt Lucy who sat up with me told me it was a little girl they had talked about before him a grand niece of Miss Betsy McPherson yes that was you sure isn't it droll though Bessie did not reply but in her heart there was a strange feeling as she thought that before she had ever heard of Gray Gerald he had been interested in and talked of her in his delirium and in his fevered dreams soon after this Mrs. Brown arose to go and said goodbye to Bessie whom she did not expect to see again as they were to leave on the morrow for Chester where her husband and son were to meet them it was Daisy's last day at home and though she had been away many times for a longer period than it was now her intention to stay this going was different for the broad sea she was to cross would put an immense distance between her and her husband and child and she was unusually quiet and gentle and affectionate telling Bessie who seemed greatly depressed that the summer would pass quickly and she would be back to stay for good until the invalid was better or worse the next morning when she went to say goodbye to her husband he welcomed her with a smile and with something of his old courteous manner put out his hand to greet her she took it between her own and raising it to her lips knelt beside him and laying her head against his arm said to him softly Aichi, I have come to say goodbye but only for a little while I shall soon be back to stay with you always or until you are better I shall never be any better he replied never suspecting how far she was going from him but go if you like he continued and be happy I do not mind it as I used to for I have Bessie and the birds who sing to me now all the time can't you hear them? they are saying Archie Archie, come as if it were my mother calling to me his mind was wandering now and Daisy felt a thrill of pain as she looked at him and felt that he was not getting better that he was failing fast though just how fast she did not guess Archie she said at last you love me, don't you? you told me you did in the garden the other day but I want to hear it again love you? you he said inquiringly as he looked at her with an unsteady imbecile gaze as if to ask who she was that he should love her yes she said I am Daisy don't you remember the little girl who used to come to you under the use? yes and his lip trembled a little the girl who gave herself and her bonnet to shield me from the flies and sun you did that then but Bessie has given herself to me body and soul through cold and hunger sunshine and storm God bless her God bless my darling Bessie and won't you bless me too Archie? I should like to remember that in time to come Daisy said seized by some impulse she could not understand Archie hesitated a moment as if not quite comprehending her then drawing her down to him he kissed her with the old fervent kiss he used to give her when they were boy and girl together and laying his hand upon her head said tremblingly will God bless Daisy too and bring her at last to where I shall be waiting for her? then Daisy withdrew herself from him and without another word went out from his presence and never saw him again to Bessie sobbing by the door she said very little there was a passionate embrace and a few farewell kisses and then she was gone and twenty minutes later Bessie heard the train as it passed bearing her mother away End of Chapter 16 and 17 Part 2 Chapter 18 of Bessie's Fortune by Mary Jane Holmes This LibriVox recording is in the public domain 18 The Birds Which Sang and the Shadow Which Fell Daisy wrote to her daughter from Liverpool where they were stopping at the Adelphi and where Lord Hardy had joined them all route for America and the far west He is not at all the Ted he used to be, Daisy wrote, and it really seems as if he blames me because he has lost so much at Monte Carlo In fact he says if I had not smuggled him in he should probably never have played there at all I think I shall know it when I take another young Irishman in hand By the way he brought me news of the death of Sir Henry Trevelyan of Trevelyan Castle in the north of England He was thrown from his horse and killed instantly Jack Trevelyan was with him and it is said was nearly heartbroken, though by this accident he has become Sir Jack and is master of a fine old place and a tolerably fair fortune He will be much sought after now, but if he ever comes in your way again and you play your cards well you may be my lady Trevelyan How does that sound to you? Sir Jack Trevelyan, Bessie repeated to herself while there swept over her a great pity for the young man smitten down so suddenly while for Jack she was glad knowing how well he would fill the place and how worthy he was of it Of herself as Lady Bessie Trevelyan she never thought, though there came to her a strong presentiment that she should see Jack again ere long That he would come to tell her of his new honor and would be just as kind and friendly and familiar as he was that day in the park when she first saw him more than two years ago Three days later in there came another short letter from her mother written on shipboard and sent off at Queenstown The sea had been very rough and the Browns and Lord Hardy were sick in their state rooms as were many of the passengers, but Daisy had never felt better in her life and was enjoying herself immensely She should cable as soon as she reached New York and she bade Bessie keep up good courage and sent her love and a kiss to Archie who, if Bessie thought best, might now be told where she had gone Archie was sleeping very quietly when Bessie went into his room taking her mother's letter with her But there was a white pinched look upon his face which she had never seen there before and it seemed to her that his breath was growing shorter and more labored as she watched him with a beating heart until she could no longer endure the fear which had seized upon her and stooping down she called aloud Father, Father! Her voice awoke him and lifting his eyes to her face he smiled upon her the old loving smile she knew so well and which reassured her a little You have slept very sweetly and you are better, she said to him and he replied No, Bessie, not better. I shall never be any better in this world. There is a weakness all over me this morning and I cannot lift my hand to touch you. See? And he tried to raise the thin, wasted hand lying so helplessly upon the counterpane. Taking it in her own Bessie felt that it was as cold as ice but she rubbed it gently and said, It is only numb. I shall soon make it warm again. No, Bessie. Never any more warmth for me. I know it now. The end is very near and the birds are singing everywhere just as they sang in the summer morning years ago when I was a boy. I used to lie on the grass unto the use and listen to them and think they were singing of my future which I meant should be so bright. Oh, Bessie, everything has been so different. Everything has changed but you and the birds singing now to me of another future which will be bright and fair. What season is it, Bessie? My mind wanders a little. Is it summer again in the dear old rose-scented garden? Yes, father, summer everywhere. Bessie answered him with a choking sob and he continued, I'm glad I would rather die in the summertime just as father and mother did. Bury me by them, Bessie, with no expense and when Daisy dies lay her by me too in the grass where the birds are singing. She ought to be here now, today. Send for her, Bessie. Send at once if a telegram can reach her. Bessie must tell him now and guessing his pale forehead, she said. A telegram cannot reach her, father, for she is on the sea going to America. Gone to America? When she knew how sick I was. Oh, Daisy, Daisy, I would not have served you so. The sick man cried with a bitter cry which rang in Bessie's ears many a day, but did not reach the heartless woman at that very moment coquettting with the doctor of the ship and tapping his arm playfully with her fan as she told him she had lost her appetite for everything but champagne and asked what he should advise her to take. She was invited to go by some friends who bear all the expense. She has long wished to see America and it was such a good opportunity that she took it. She will not be gone long, only through the summer, Bessie said, trying to find excuse for her mother but Archie shook his head and replied, I shall not be here when she comes back, shall not be here tomorrow, and oh, my child, what will you do? You cannot live here alone and my annuity dies with me. Bessie, oh, Bessie, you will not pursue your mother's course? Never. So help me, heaven, Bessie answered, as she fell on her knees beside him and bowed her face in her hands. Surely in this extremity she might tell him of her engagement to Neil, and after a moment she said, Father, don't let a thought of my future trouble you. That is provided for. I am to be Neil's wife. We settled that last Christmas, but he did not wish me to tell you till something definite was arranged. He meant you to live with us. We were not to be separated. He is very kind, she added earnestly, as she felt her father's surprise and possible disapprobation in his silence. And you love him. You believe he will make you happy, Archie said at last, and Bessie replied. I love him, and I believe he will make me as happy as I can be with you gone. Oh, Father, you don't like Neil. You never did. There was reproach in Bessie's voice as she said this, and the sick man answered her. There are many noble traits in Neil's character, but he is a MacPherson, with all their foolish pride of birth and blood and ancestors. As if Poppers like us have any right to such nonsense. Were I to live my life again, I would turn a hand organ in the street to earn my bread if there were no other way. Yes, Neil is very nice and good, but not the husband I would have chosen for you. I liked the others better, Mr. Trevelyan, and the American. What is his name? Gerald, great Gerald, Bessie replied, and after a moment her father continued. Where is Neil? His place is here with you, if he is to be your husband. Send for him at once. There is no time to lose. You must not be alone, and the hours are very few, and the birds are singing so loud. Send for Neil at once. Bessie did not know where Neil was now, as the last time she heard from him he was in Paris with his mother-in-planche. But she would take the chance that he was at home, and a telegram that her father was dying and he must come immediately was soon speeding along the wires to Trevelyan house in London. Slowly the hours of that glorious summer day went by, and Archie's pulse grew fainter and his voice weaker, while the real birds without in the use and in the hedgerows, and the imaginary birds within sang louder and clearer, and the dying man listened to them with a wrapped look in his white face, and a light in his eyes which told of peace and of perfectly painless death. At last the day was ended and the shades of night crept in and around the old grey house while a darker shadow than any which night ever brings was in the sick room where Archie lay, half unconscious, and talking now of Daisy, now of Bessie, and now of Neil and asking if he had come. He had not sent any answer to the telegram, and Bessie's heart was very heavy and sad with a sense of desertion and terrible loneliness. How could she bear to be alone with her dead father, and only Anthony and Dorothy to counsel her? What should she do, and where was Neil that he made no response to tell her he was coming? She did not consider that, even had he received the telegram he could not reach stonely that night. She did not realize anything except the dread and pain which weighed her down, as with her father's hand in hers, she sat waiting for the end while the old servant stole in and out noiselessly. Suddenly, as she waited thus, she caught the sound of a footstep without, a quick footstep which seemed familiar to her, and with the cry of Neil on her lips, she arose swiftly and hastened to the outer door just as the tall form of a young man stood before the threshold. Bessie's eyes were full of tears, and the lamp on the bracket rather blinded than helped her, and so she could not see the stranger distinctly. But it was Neil, of course, come in response to her summons, and with a great glad cry she sprang toward the young man and clinging convulsively to him sobbed out, Oh, Neil, Neil, I am so glad you have come, for father is dying and I am all alone. It is so dreadful, and what shall I do? Oh, oh, it isn't Neil, and she gave a little scream of terror and surprise as, looking up, she met Grey Gerald's face bending over her instead of Neil's. Grey had been to Carnarvon on the old business, and moved by a desire to see Bessie's blue eyes again had come to the George Hotel to pass the night, intending to call at Stonely in the morning. But hearing of Mr. MacPherson's illness he had decided to step over that night and inquire for him, and thus it was that he found himself in a very novel position, with Bessie sobbing in his arms which had involuntarily opened to receive her when she made the rush toward him. No, it is not Neil, he said, trying to detain her as she drew herself from him. It is Grey, but perhaps I can help you. I heard at the George of your father's illness and came at once. Is he so very bad? And, leading her to Asopa, and sitting down beside her, he continued, tell me all your trouble, please, in what I can do for you. Grey's voice was very low and soft, and had in it all the tenderness and gentleness of a sympathizing woman, and it touched Bessie as Neil's words of love could not have touched her had he been there beside her. Bursting into a fresh fit of sobbing, she told Grey of her father's serious illness and her loneliness and desolation and how glad she was he had come. I telegraphed to Neil, she said, and thought you were he, though it is not time for him to be here even if he received the telegram. Perhaps he is not in London, do you know? Grey did not know as he had not heard from Neil in some time, but he comforted Bessie as well as he could and said he hoped her father might yet recover. No, he cannot, Bessie replied. He will soon be dead, and I shall be alone, all alone, for mother has gone to America with a Mrs. Rossiter Brown who lives in or near Allington. You know her, I believe, and Bessie looked up in time to see the look of surprise and the half-amused smile which flitted over Grey's face as he replied. Mrs. Rossiter Brown. Oh yes, I know her. I have always known her. She is a good, kind-hearted woman and your mother is safe with her. Bessie felt intuitively that Grey was keeping something back which he might have told her but she respected him far more for speaking kindly of Mrs. Rossiter Brown than she would have done if he had said as he might have done. Oh yes, I know Mrs. Rossiter Brown. She was, for years, my Aunt Lucy's hired girl, Angeline Peters, who married Isaac Brown, the hired man, and became plain Mrs. Ike Brown until some lucky speculation turned the tide and gave them immense wealth when she blossomed out into a fine lady and dropping the Ike adopted her husband's middle name, Rossiter, with a hyphen to heighten the effect and so became Mrs. Rossiter Brown. All this Bessie learned afterward but now she was too full of grief to care what Mrs. Rossiter Brown had been or what she was. All her thoughts were with her father whose weak voice was soon heard calling to her. Bessie, are you here? Yes, Father, she said going quickly into the sick room followed by Grey, who saw in Archie's face the look which comes once and but once to all and knew that his life was numbered by hours if not indeed by minutes. Bessie, the sick man said as she bent over him, has he come? I heard someone speaking to you. Neil has not come, it's not time. It is Mr. Gerald who is here. He was with us last Christmas, you remember? Yes, Mr. McPherson replied, the American, I remember. I liked him very much. I wish it were he rather than Neil. Grey looked curiously at Bessie who knew what her father meant and that his mind was wandering. After a few moments during which Archie appeared to be sleeping he started suddenly and seemed to listen intently. Then he said, The birds have stopped singing, but I hear other music, the songs of the redeemed, and my mother is there by the gate waiting for me, just as I shall wait one day for you, my child. Give me your hand, Bessie. I want to feel that you are with me to the last. She put her hand in his and Grey noticed with a pang how small and thin it was and brown too with toil. Some such thought must have been in Archie's mind for pressing the fingers to his lips he continued. Poor tired little hands, which have done so much for me. May they have rest by and by. Oh Bessie, darling, God bless you, the dearest, sweetest daughter a man ever had. Be kind to her, young man. I leave her in your charge. There is no one else to care for her. Goodbye. God bless you both. He did not speak after that, though he lingered for some hours his breath growing fainter and fainter until, just as the summer morning was stealing into the room old Anthony who, with his wife had been watching by him, said in a whisper, God help us, the master is dead. Bessie uttered no sound but over her face there crept such a pallor and look of woe that Grey involuntarily passed his arm around her and said, Let me take you into the air. She did not resist him but suffered him to lead her into the garden which was sweet with a perfume of roses and cool with a fresh morning dew and where the birds were singing in the old yew trees as blithely and merrily as if no young heart were breaking in their midst. In a large rustic chair where Archie had often sat, Grey made Bessie sit down, and when he saw her shiver as if with cold he left her a moment while he went to the house for a shawl and a glass of wine and some Uda Kalang which he brought to her himself. Wrapping the shawl around her as deftly as a woman could have done he made her taste the wine and dipping her handkerchief in the cologne bathed her forehead with it and pushed back a few locks of her wavy hair which had fallen over her face. And all the time he did not speak until Bessie said to him, Thank you, Mr. Gerald. You are so kind. I am glad you are here. What should I do without you? And what shall I do anyway? What must I do? Leave it all to me, he answered her. Don't give the matter a thought but try and rest, and when you feel that you can I will take you back to the house. No, no, she said quickly. Let me stay here in the sunshine with the birds who used to sing to him. It seems as if he were here with me. So he brought her a pillow for her head and a hassack for her feet and wrapped her shawl more closely around her and made her taste the wine again. Then he went back to the house and consulted Anthony and Dorothy with regard to what was to be done. The funeral was fixed for the fourth day and Grey telegraphed to London with instructions that if the family were not in town the message should be forwarded to them immediately. Then he cabled to Daisy, ship Celtic, New York, and lest by any chance she should miss the news at the wharf, he asked that a dispatch be sent to her at Allington, Massachusetts. Care of Mrs. Rossiter Brown, who he knew, would in all probability go at once to her country home. Mrs. McPherson can return or remain where she is. I have done my duty to her, he thought, as he busied himself with the many details it was necessary to see to. If Neil were only here, was his constant thought as the day were on, and he found himself in the rather awkward position of master of ceremonies in a strange house, deferred to and advised with not only by Anthony and Dorothy, but by all the people who came to assist. But Neil did not come and the night came and went, and it was morning again and Bessie who had passed the most of the preceding day in the garden and had only returned to the house late in the afternoon, seemed a little brighter and fresher, with a look of expectancy in her face whenever a train dashed by. She was watching for Neil, and when at about four o'clock a carriage came through the park gate, she rose and went swiftly to the door, meeting not Neil, but Jack Trevelyan, whose face and manner told plainly how great was his sympathy with the desolate young girl. He was in London, he said, and chanced to be calling at the Trevelyan house, where he learned that all the family Neil included were at Bessie, where Lady Jane had gone for the waters and bathing. Just as he was leaving, Grey's telegram was received and the housekeeper, Mrs. Jervis, told him that another telegram had come two days before for Mr. Neil from Stonely. I did not open it, she said, as did not suppose it of any consequence. He often has dispatches, and as I expect him home within a week or ten days, I put it on the table in the hall. You will find it there. She continued, as she saw Jack and ceremoniously tear open the envelope just received and heard his cry of surprise. Then, quick as thought, he read the first telegram from Bessie telling of her father's illness and asking Neil to come at once. Poor little Bessie, alone with her dead father, he said, and his heart throbbed with a great pity for the girl who he supposed was alone, for Grey had not signed his own, but Bessie's name to the message he had sent. In an instant Jack's resolution was taken and he acted upon it at once. The telegram was forwarded to Bessie together with the fact that he was going immediately to Stonely where he would await any orders they chose to send. Then he took the first train for Wales and reached Bangor about three o'clock the next day. All this he explained after expressing his surprise at finding Grey there and saying to him good-humoredly, You always managed to get ahead of me. If I ever get to heaven I do believe I shall find you there before me. I hope so. Grey answered laughingly and then added, We ought to have heard from Bessie before this time if they received your message yesterday. That's so, Jack replied, adding after a moment. It may be waiting for me at the George. They would naturally direct it there. And on sending to inquire if there was anything for him at the hotel there was brought to him an envelope directed to Sir Jack Travellian received that morning, the barmaid said. Breaking the seal Jack read aloud. Vichy, July blank, 1800 blank. To Sir Jack Travellian, George Hotel, Bangor, Wales. It is impossible for me to come. We'll write Bessie soon. Please see that everything is done decently and send Bill to me, John MacPherson. Nothing could have been colder or more matter of fact and Bessie's cheeks were scarlet as she listened, while Grey involuntarily gave a low whistle and turning on his heel walked away and Jack tore the paper and shreds which he threw into the empty grate. Then he looked at Bessie, whose face was now very white and quivering with pain and disappointment. Jack's first impulse was to denounce Mr. MacPherson for his selfishness and neglect, but his kinder nature prevailed and he said apologetically, It is a long way from Vichy here and the weather is very hot. But never mind, Grey and I will do all we can and both Mr. MacPherson and Lady Jane will surely come to you later. It is not that. I don't know what it is, only it's dreadful to be without one of your own kindred at such a time as this. Surely Neil might come or write, Bessie said, with such pathos in her voice that Jack looked sharply at her thinking to himself. Is it possible she cares for him more than as a cousin? Doesn't she know Neil is the last one to inconvenience himself, if he can help it? Few knows her not to his taste. But he did not give expression to his thoughts, he said instead. Perhaps Neil is not there. I hardly think he is, as he does not like Vichy. You will hear from him soon, no doubt. I am sorry for your sake that none of your relatives are here. But don't distress yourself. Grey and I will do everything. I know you will, she said, but Mr. Trevelyan, and she laid her hand upon his arm. You will not send that bill to Neil's father. I have over forty pounds. I can pay it myself. You will not send it? Never, Jack answered emphatically, and then he went out to consult with Grey, who was sitting in the porch staring hard at an iron post, which Jack began to kick vigorously as he said. Well, Gerald, we are in for it, you and I, and we will see it through in shape. The old curmudgeon, he might come as well as not if he chose. There is plenty of time to get here, and he knows her mother is gone, for I added that to the dispatch I sent, so as to ensure his coming. And where is Neil, the milk-soap? He at least might come. I have no patience with the whole tribe. But we will do what we can for the poor little forsaken girl. Yes, Grey answered him, we will do what we can.