om Jack Trevellian, her recent
guest.

"It was begged; it is a charity; it burns my hand," she said, as she
held the note between her thumb and finger. "I will not have it in the
house," and the next moment it was blackening on the fire where the
indignant girl had thrown it, together with her mother's letter, which
her father must never see.

Oh, how for an instant Bessie loathed herself as she thought of her
mother and saw in fancy the whole sickening performance at Nice, the
daily jesting and badinage with those people around her--second-class
Americans, she was sure, or they would not take up her mother; but worst
of all was the interview with Jack Trevellian, whose feelings had been
wrought upon until he gave her ten pounds, because of her poverty!

"Oh, it is too horrible; but I will pay it back some time," she said,
and kneeling by the firelight with her hot, tear-stained face buried in
her hands, Bessie prayed earnestly that in some way see might be enabled
to pay this debt to Jack Trevellian.

In her excitement she did not then regret that she had burned the note,
though she knew that it was a rash act, and that it necessitated extra
self-denials which would tell heavily upon her. With strong black linen
thread and a bit of leather she patched her boots; she dressed and
undressed in the cold, for she would allow no fire in her room; she
never tasted meat, or tarts, or sweets, or delicacies of any kind, but
contented herself with the simplest fare, and piled her father's plate,
begging him to eat, and watching him with feverish anxiety as her
mother's dreadful words rang in her ears--softening of the brain! Was
that terrible disease stealing upon him? Would the time come when the
kind eyes which now always brightened when they rested on her would have
in them no sign of recognition, and the lips which spoke her name so
lovingly utter only unmeaning words? It was terrible to contemplate, and
Bessie felt she would rather see him dead than an imbecile.

"But what should I do with father gone?" she said, and her thoughts
turned to Neil, who would surely take her then, even if he took her into
poverty.

And so in a measure Bessie was comforted, and watched her father with
untiring vigilance, and felt that he was slipping from her and that in
all the world there was for her no ray of joy except in Neil's love,
which she never doubted, and without which her heart would have broken,
it was so full of care and pai