but in general she would
have been shocked to put these surging thoughts into words, and Bessie
was her only intimate who would avow that there could be anything to
be found fault with in a clergyman. When alone together, Bessie would
sometimes regretfully, sometimes in a tone of amusement, go over bits
of narrow-minded folly that had struck her in the clergy, and more
especially in her uncle's curate, Mr. Lifford, whose dryness was, she
owned, very repulsive to her.

"He is a good creature," she said, "and most necessary to my uncle, but
how he and I are to get through life together, I cannot tell. It must
soon be tried, though! After my visit at Bath will come my home at
Bishopsworthy!" And then she confided to Rachel all the parish ways, and
took counsel on the means of usefulness that would not clash with the
curate and pain her uncle. She even talked of a possible orphan for the
F. U. E. E., only that unlucky prejudice against Mr. Mauleverer was sure
to stand in the way.

So acceptable had Bessie Keith made herself everywhere, that all
Avonmouth was grieved at her engagement to spend the winter at Bath
with her married cousin, to whom she was imperatively necessary in the
getting up of a musical party.

"And I must go some time or other," she said to Colonel Keith, "so it
had better be when you are all here to make Myrtlewood cheerful, and
I can be of most use to poor Jane! I do think dear Lady Temple is much
more full of life and brightness now!"

Everybody seemed to consider Bessie's departure as their own personal
loss: the boys were in despair for their playfellow, Ermine would miss
those sunny visits; Colonel Keith many a pleasant discussion, replete
with delicate compliments to Ermine, veiled by tact; and Lord Keith the
pretty young clanswoman who had kept up a graceful little coquetry with
him, and even to the last evening, went on walking on the esplanade with
him in the sunset, so as to set his brother free to avoid the evening
chill.

And, above all, Lady Temple regretted the loss of the cheery companion
of her evenings. True, Bessie had lately had a good many small evening
gaieties, but she always came back from them so fresh and bright, and so
full of entertaining description and anecdote, that Fanny felt as if she
had been there herself, and, said Bessie, "it was much better for her
than staying at home with her, and bringing in no novelty."

"Pray come to me again, dearest! Your stay has been t