of your room."

"Nonsense. Chriss and I will think it a bit of fun--oh, you don't know
us yet. So little happens in our lives that your coming will be quite an
event; so that is settled." And Bessie extended a plump little hand in
token of her good will, which Miss Sefton cordially grasped.

CHAPTER II.

"HERE IS OUR BESSIE."

An interruption occurred at this moment. The friendly guard made his
appearance again, accompanied by the same white-haired old clergyman
whom Bessie had noticed. He came to offer his services to the young
ladies. He cheered Miss Sefton's drooping spirits by reiterating the
guard's assurance that they need only fear the inconvenience of another
hour's delay.

The sight of the kind, benevolent countenance was reassuring and
comforting, and after their new friend had left them the girls resumed
their talk with fresh alacrity.

Miss Sefton was the chief speaker. She began recounting the glories of a
grand military ball at Knightsbridge, at which she had been present, and
some private theatricals and tableaux that had followed. She had a
vivid, picturesque way of describing things, and Bessie listened with a
sort of dreamy fascination that lulled her into forgetfulness of her
parents' anxiety.

In spite of her alleged want of imagination, she was conscious of a sort
of weird interest in her surroundings. The wintry afternoon had closed
into evening, but the whiteness of the snow threw a dim brightness
underneath the faint starlight, while the gleam of the carriage lights
enabled them to see the dark figures that passed and repassed underneath
their window.

It was intensely cold, and in spite of her furs Miss Sefton shivered and
grew perceptibly paler. She was evidently one of those spoiled children
of fortune who had never learned lessons of endurance, who are easily
subdued and depressed by a passing feeling of discomfort; even Bessie's
sturdy cheerfulness was a little infected by the unnatural stillness
outside. The line ran between high banks, but in the mysterious twilight
they looked like rocky defiles closing them in.

After a time Bessie's attention wandered, and her interest flagged.
Military balls ceased to interest her as the temperature grew lower and
lower. Miss Sefton, too, became silent, and Bessie's mind filled with
gloomy images. She thought of ships bedded in ice in Arctic regions; of
shipwrecked sailors on frozen seas; of lonely travellers laying down
their weary