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Updated: May 5, 2025
In the corner stood a piano, and by it a bookcase, filled with the works of standard authors, the property, as John rightly guessed, of Bessie's sister Jess. Supper went off pleasantly enough, and after it was over the two girls sang and played whilst the men smoked.
"It is not very satisfactory, I'm afraid, Bessie," she said reluctantly at length. Bessie's face fell. "I thought I'd better tell you." "Certainly, my dear." "I wonder what we ought to do, mama?" "To do, Bessie?" "I thought, perhaps, if Reggie does not speak to papa, that papa might speak to Reggie?" Mrs. Day shook a sharply dissenting head.
"Um-m-m; no, I do not think so," said Lena, all unconscious of Bessie's secret, and looking at her with surprise; for she knew Bessie's ideas about underhand dealings to be as uncompromising as her own.
Sibyl came down to dinner in her usual unruffled state, but Bessie's curly hair stood on end, and there was a deep wrinkle between her eyes. "Well, Sibyl, have you made a commencement?" she asked, as her cousin took her seat at the dinner-table. "I have finished my contribution entirely," said Sibyl. "Did it take you all the morning? I have not heard a sound from your room." "Oh no!
Fannie fought off any attempt to touch her and she cried and groaned without a moment's pause. Rosemary, straightening up after a hard and ineffectual tussle, was relieved to see Bessie running toward them, followed by a string of boys, Jack Welles in advance. Bessie's cries had reached them long before she came to the field and they had correctly interpreted her frantic appeals for help.
Thaddeus's troubles were set going again when he overheard Phillips saying to Bessie, "Thaddeus has been telling us the remarkable story of Grimmins." Nor were his woes lightened any when he caught Bessie's reply: "Indeed? What story is that?" "Why, the story of the butler Grimmins, you know. How you came to get him, and all that," said Phillips. "Really, you are to be congratulated."
It brought with it a hundred vague associations, and filled him with a boundless despair. What would become of him now penniless and old and feeble? The horror of Bessie's death no longer stood between him and his own pain, and would soon even cease to protect her from his hatred. Mary Anne came back along the lane, carrying a jug and a loaf.
"Trust me, Harry," said she, and laid hers softly in his open palm. Mrs. Musgrave's voice was heard from the sitting-room window: "Bessie! Bessie dear! where are you? Lady Latimer wishes to go. Make haste come in." A bit of Bessie's blue-gray dress had betrayed her whereabouts.
He was sent on several errands, and took his own time in returning, but every one had too much to do to inquire what kept him so long. "'Can't I shine up Bessie's and the admiral's cages? he asked his mother after dinner the second day. "Mrs. Morris was delighted with her son's thoughtfulness. 'Why, Johnny, she said, 'I'll be so glad to have you do it.
Harry shook his head, but only half in earnest: "You are, Bessie. You are pretending to have opinions on things that you had never thought of a month ago. Give you a year amongst your grandees, and you will hold yourself above us all." Tears filled Bessie's eyes. She was very much hurt; she did not believe that Harry could have misunderstood her so.
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