s boys; but that is all nonsense; he does it
to spite me."

"Oh, very well," returned Bessie good-humoredly, for she would not
quarrel with Edna for her perversity. "If you mean to be so obdurate, I
will sing myself." And Bessie actually walked across the room and
addressed Richard, who was moodily turning over his sister's music.

"Edna does not feel inclined to sing to-night, but if you can put up
with my deficiencies, I will try what I can do. My music is rather
old-fashioned, but I know one or two pretty ballads, if you care to hear
them."

"Thanks; I should like it very much," was all Richard said, as he opened
the piano; but his face cleared like magic. It was not the song he
wanted, but that some one should care to please him. All his life long
this had been his longing; and the cold indifference with which his
expressed wishes had always been met by his mother and Edna had chilled
his affectionate nature. Bessie had a pretty voice, though it showed
want of training, but she could sing a simple ballad with much sweetness
and feeling, and Richard, who had a fine ear for music, avowed himself
much pleased.

"You ought to have some good lessons," he said frankly. "Your voice has
great capabilities, but it has not been properly trained. I hope you do
not think my criticism rude."

"No, indeed; I am too much aware of my own faults. I have only had a few
lessons. Miss James was not much of a teacher, but I cannot help
singing somehow. Now, have I tired you, or do you want another song?"

"I want more than one," returned Richard, growing bold. Bessie's
readiness to please, her good-humored reception of his criticism,
charmed him. She was so amiable, so willing to be friendly; she was so
different from the other girls who came to The Grange. Richard had no
patience with them; their airs and graces, their evident desire for
masculine admiration disgusted and repelled him. They seemed always
seeking for him to pay them little compliments and attentions, and in
his heart he despised them.

"Thank you, my dear," observed Mrs. Sefton graciously, when Bessie had
finished. "She sings very nicely, does she not, Edna?"

"Charmingly," replied Edna; but her smile was hardly as pleased as
usual, and she bade Bessie a somewhat cold good-night when they parted
an hour later.

CHAPTER XI.

EDNA HAS A GRIEVANCE.

Bessie did not concern herself much about her friend's coldness. She had
tried to atone to Richard for