maiden sisters.

The very name of Lady Latimer acted like a spell on Bessie. She had been
rather silent and reserved until she heard it, and then all at once she
roused up into a vivid interest. Mr. Cecil Burleigh studied her more
attentively than he had done hitherto. Miss Burleigh said, "Lady Latimer
is another of our ambitious women. Miss Fairfax fancies women can have
no ambition on their own account, Cecil. I have been telling her of Mrs.
Chiverton."

"And what does Miss Fairfax say of Mrs. Chiverton's ambition?" asked Mr.
Cecil Burleigh.

"Nothing," rejoined Bessie. But her delicate lip and nostril expressed a
great deal.

The man of the world preferred her reticence to the wisest speech. He
mused for several minutes before he spoke again himself. Then he gave
air to some of his reflections: "Lady Latimer has great qualities. Her
marriage was the blunder of her youth. Her girlish imagination was
dazzled by the name of a lord and the splendor of Umpleby. It remains to
be considered that she was not one of the melting sort, and that she
made her life noble."

Here Miss Burleigh took up the story: "That is true. But she would have
made it more noble if she had been faithful to her first love--to your
grandfather, Miss Fairfax."

Bessie colored. "Oh, were they fond of each other when they were young?"
she asked wondering.

"Your grandfather was devoted to her. He had just succeeded to
Abbotsmead. All the world thought it would be a match, and great
promotion for her too, when she met Lord Latimer. He was sixty and she
was nineteen, and they lived together thirty-seven years, for he
survived into quite extreme old age."

"And she had no children, and my grandfather married somebody else?"
said Bessie with a plaintive fall in her voice.

"She had no children, and your grandfather married somebody else. Lady
Latimer was a most excellent wife to her old tyrant."

Bessie looked sorrowful: "Was he a tyrant? I wonder whether she ever
pities herself for the love she threw away? She is quite alone--she
would give anything that people should love her now, I have heard them
say in the Forest."

"That is the revenge that slighted love so often takes. But she must
have satisfaction in her life too. She was always more proud than
tender, except perhaps to her friend, Dorothy Fairfax. You have heard of
your great-aunt Dorothy?"

"Yes. I have succeeded to her rooms, to her books. My grandfather says I
remind him of h