her; but
Bessie is young enough to wait a little. It is we who are growing old,
my dear, and who need to be comforted quickly; the young have their life
before them."

But though the doctor expressed himself after this stoical fashion, he
was very tender in his manner to Bessie, and though he would not have
avowed it to his wife, he watched the girl narrowly, and often took her
for drives, or contrived errands for her at the other end of the town.
Nay, more, he became extravagant, and brought home books for her and
Christine, bidding them improve their minds, and Bessie found herself
the possessor of several nice books, not wholly instructive--for "Lorna
Doone," and Miss Austen's "Emma," and "A Sister's Story," by Mrs.
Craven, were among them.

Bessie had other little surprises that pleased her greatly; every week
or two a hamper came from Oatlands--new-laid eggs and cream, a chicken
or two, and often a brace of partridges or a pheasant. Bessie, who was
housekeeper, used to rejoice over the contents of these hampers; she
knew the game would tempt her mother's sickly appetite. Many of Dr.
Lambert's patients remembered that he had an invalid wife, and fruit and
flowers and all sorts of delicacies found their way to the doctor's
house, for the Lamberts were much respected in Cliffe, and even the poor
people would step up with a couple of new-laid eggs from a speckled
hen, or a pot of blackberry-jam, or a bottle of elderberry wine for Mrs.
Lambert.

"The world is very full of nice people," observed Bessie one day, when,
near Christmas, she looked at the larder shelves fairly laden with good
things. One kind friend had sent them a barrel of oysters. Aunt
Charlotte's contribution had been a stock of apples that would last them
half through the winter.

The hamper from Oatlands had been unusually rich, for a turkey, and a
great fat goose dangled from the ceiling, and Edna had added a rich cake
and a packet of bonbons and chocolate for Ella and Katie. But the letter
that accompanied it had made Bessie somewhat anxious. Edna had a cold, a
severe cold, for she could not shake it off, and her mother had decided
to take her to Brighton for a month or two. The doctor had recommended
Hastings or Bournemouth as being warmer, but Edna had a fancy for
Brighton, so her mother had taken a suite of rooms in the Glenyan
Mansions--a big drawing-room overlooking King's Road and the sea, and a
small dining-room leading out of it.

"