far
apart, and they had grown old. But a woman never quite forgets to feel
interested in a man who has once worshipped her, though he may long
since have got up off his knees and gone and paid his devotions at other
shrines. Lady Latimer had not been so blessed in her life and affections
that she could afford to throw away even a flattering memory. Bessie's
talk of her grandfather had brought the former things to her mind. Her
face kindled at the sight of her friend, and her voice was the soul of
kindness. Mr. Fairfax looked up and pitied her, and lost his likeness to
Mr. Phipps. Ambitious, greedy of power, of rank, and riches--thus and
thus had he once contemned her; but there was that fascinating smile,
and so she would charm him if they met some day in Hades.

* * * * *

Bessie went in-doors to apprise her mother of the visitors who were at
hand. Mr. Fairfax and Lady Latimer stood for a quarter of an hour or
longer in the shade of the churchyard trees, exchanging news, the chief
news being the squire's business at Beechhurst. Lady Latimer offered him
her advice and countenance for his granddaughter, and assured him that
Bessie had fine qualities, much simplicity, and the promise of beauty.
Meanwhile Mrs. Carnegie, forewarned of the impending interview,
collected herself and prepared for it. She sent Bessie into the
rarely-used drawing-room to pull up the blinds and open the glass door
upon the lawn; and, further to occupy the nervous moments, bade her
gather a few roses for the china bowl on the round table. Bessie had
just finished her task, and was standing with a lovely Devoniensis in
her hand, when her grandfather appeared, supported by Lady Latimer.

Mr. Fairfax was received by Mrs. Carnegie with courtesy, but without
effusion. It was the anxious desire of her heart that no ill-will should
arise because of Bessie's restoration. She was one of those unaffected,
reasonable, calm women whom circumstances rarely disconcert. Then her
imagination was not active. She did not pensively reflect that here was
her once father-in-law, but she felt comfortable in the consciousness
that Bessie had on a nice clean pink gingham frock and a crimped frill
round her white throat, in which she looked as pretty as she could look.
Bessie's light hair, threaded with gold, all crisp and wavy, and her
pure bright complexion, gave her an air of health and freshness not to
be surpassed. Her beauty was not