icious
rector took occasion to say the moment they were clear of Fairfield. Mr.
Fairfax listened. Bessie felt hot and angry: what need was there to
inflict this on her grandfather? "Was it a dressmaker or a
school-mistress Lady Latimer last proposed to make of you? I forget,"
said Mr. Wiley with an air of guileless consideration as he planted his
thorn.

"I never heard that there was any idea of dressmaking: I am not fond of
my needle," said Bessie curtly.

"Yes, there was. Her ladyship spoke of it to Mrs. Wiley. We hoped that
you might be got into Madame Michaud's establishment at Hampton to
learn the business. She is first-class. My wife patronizes her."

"I wish people would mind their own business."

"There is no harm done. But the remembrance of what you have been saved
from should keep you meek and lowly in spirit, Bessie. I have been
grieved to-day, _deeply grieved_, to see that you already begin to feel
uplifted." Mr. Wiley dwelt in unctuous italics on his regret, and waved
his head slowly in token of his mournfulness. Bessie turned scarlet and
held her peace.

"You must be very benevolent people here," said Mr. Fairfax
sarcastically. "Is Mr. Carnegie so poor and helpless a man that his kind
neighbors must interfere to direct his private affairs?"

Mr. Wiley's eyes glittered as he replied, parrying the thrust and
returning it: "No, no, but he has a large and increasing family of his
own; and with little Bessie thrown entirely on his hands besides,
friends might well feel anxious how she was to be provided for--Lady
Latimer especially, who interests herself for all who are in need. Her
ladyship has a great notion that women should be independent."

"My father is perfectly able and perfectly willing to do everything that
is necessary for his children. No one would dream of meddling with us
who knew him," cried Bessie impetuously. Her voice shook, she was so
annoyed that she was in tears. Mr. Fairfax took her hand, squeezed it
tight, and retained it as they walked on. She felt insulted for her
dear, good, generous father. She was almost sobbing as she continued in
his praise: "He has insured his life for us. I have heard him say that
we need never want unless by our own fault. And the little money that
was left for me when my real father died has never been touched: it was
put into the funds to save up and be a nest-egg for me when I marry."

Mr. Wiley's teeth gleamed his appreciation of this _naive_ bit o