ote to Mr. Logger to recommend a
publisher, and to ask how proper payment could be assured to a young and
unknown author. She described the story to the veteran critic as a sad,
pretty story of true love (which people go on believing in), sensibly
written, without serious flaws of taste or grammar, and really worth
reading if one had nothing else to do. In the morning she informed
Bessie of what she had done. Bessie was not quite sure that Harry would
feel gratified at being placed under the protection of her ladyship and
Mr. Logger; but as she could not well revoke the letter that was
written, she said nothing against it, and Lady Latimer was busy and
happy for a week in the expectation that she was doing something for
"the unfortunate young man." But at the week's end Mr. Logger dashed her
confidence with the answer that he had not been able to meet with any
publisher willing to pay money down for a sad, pretty story of true love
by an unknown author: sad, pretty stories of true love were a drug in
the literary market. She was grievously disappointed. Bessie was the
same, and as she had confessed a hope to Harry, she had to carry to him
the tidings of failure. If he was sorry, it was for her regret, but they
soon began to talk of other things. They had agreed that if good luck
came they would be glad, and if bad luck they would pass it lightly
over.

CHAPTER XLVII.

_GOODNESS PREVAILS_.

Desirous as Lady Latimer was to do Mr. Harry Musgrave a service, her
good-will towards him ended there. She perversely affected to believe
that Miss Fairfax's avowed promise to him constituted no engagement, and
on this plea put impediments in the way of her visits to Brook, lest a
handle should be given to gossip. Bessie herself was not concerned to
hinder gossip. With the exception of Lady Latimer, all her old friends
in the Forest were ready to give her their blessing. The Wileys were
more and more astonished that she should be so short-sighted, but Mr.
Phipps shook her by both hands and expressed his cordial approbation,
and Miss Buff advised her to have her own way, and let those who were
vexed please themselves again.

Bessie suffered hours of argument from my lady, who, when she found she
could prevail nothing, took refuge in a sort of scornful, compassionate
silence. These silences were, however, of brief duration. She appealed
to Mr. Carnegie, who gave her for answer that Bessie was old enough to
know her own min