n
unexpectedly into the company of an old friend, could do. As Bessie
cooled down, she listened and began to speculate whether he might
possibly be not so altogether wicked as his recent misbehavior had led
her to conclude; then she began to think better things of him in a
general way, but unfortunately it did not occur to her that he might
possibly have conceived a liking to herself. Love, that best solvent of
difficulties, was astray between them from the beginning.

Bessie was not invited to talk, but Lady Latimer gave her a kind glance
at intervals. Yet for all this encouragement her heart went pit-a-pat
when they came in sight of Fairfield; for about the gate was gathered a
group of young ladies--to Bessie's imagination at this epoch the most
formidable of created beings. There was one on horseback, a most
playful, sweet Margaret, who was my lady's niece; and another, a
dark-eyed, pretty thing, cuddling a brisk brown terrier--Dora and Dandy
they were; and a tall, graceful Scotch lassie, who ran to meet Lady
Latimer, and fondled up to her with the warmest affection; and two
little girls besides, sisters to Dora, very frank to make friends. Each
had some communication in haste for my lady, who, when she could get
leave to speak, introduced her niece to Mr. Fairfax, and recommended
Bessie to the attention of her contemporaries. Forthwith they were
polite. Dora offered Dandy to Bessie's notice; Margaret courted
admiration for Beauty; the others looked on with much benevolence, and
made cordial remarks and lively rejoinders. Bessie was too shy to enjoy
their affability; she felt awkward, and looked almost repulsively proud.
The younger ones gradually subsided. Margaret had often met Bessie
riding with Mr. Carnegie, and they knew each other to bow to. Bessie
patted Beauty's neck and commended her--a great step towards
friendliness with her mistress--and Margaret said enthusiastically, "Is
she not a darling? She shall have sugar, she shall! Oh, Aunt Olympia,
Beauty went so well to-day!" Then to Bessie: "That is a handsome little
mare you ride: what a sharp trot you go at sometimes!"

"It is my father's pace--we get over the ground fast. Miss Hoyden, she
is called--she is almost thoroughbred."

"You ride, Elizabeth? That is a good hearing," said Mr. Fairfax. "You
shall have a Miss Hoyden at Abbotsmead."

Bessie colored and turned her head for a moment, but said nothing.
Margaret whispered that _would_ be nice. Poor Bes