would be shocked," thought Bessie. "I think I should
have been shocked myself under any other circumstances; but when I
thought of poor Edna, and saw him looking so pale and grave, I felt I
must help them both. Was it very forward of me? Have I betrayed Edna's
confidence? But, no; I found it all out for myself; surely, no one could
blame me for speaking the truth. If Mr. Richard were here, I would ask
him. Truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, after all. One
cannot be wrong if only one be absolutely true."

Bessie found it very difficult to preserve her ordinary demeanor that
morning. The consciousness that she had a secret oppressed her, but
neither Mrs. Sefton nor Edna seemed to notice any difference in her
manner. Edna looked languid and depressed, and seemed to have lost all
interest in the bazaar. She alarmed Bessie in the course of the morning
by saying that, after all, she did not care to mix with such a crowd.

"Oh, Edna, I shall be so disappointed if we do not go!" exclaimed
Bessie.

"My dear, I was not talking about you," replied Edna wearily. "Mamma
will go, of course, and you can accompany her; but I am sick of bazaars,
and the noise and chatter will make my head ache. You may take my purse,
Bessie, and buy something of Minnie and Eleanor;" and Edna threw down
her work and began looking over the batch of novels that her mother had
sent in from the circulating library, leaving Bessie to digest her
dismay and disappointment as well as she could.

CHAPTER XXII.

BESSIE BUYS A JAPANESE FAN.

Edna continued in this unsatisfactory mood until luncheon. Nothing
pleased her. The novels were stupid. She was tired of love tales--why
could not people find something else to write about? She was sick of
such namby-pamby sentimentality; and then they were so untrue to life.
Stories in real life did not always end happily, or there would not be
so many old maids in the world.

"Single women, Edna; I like that term ever so much better."

"No; old maids," persisted Edna, obstinately; "cross, cranky old maids."

"Old maids, as you call them (and you are very rude to a lot of good,
nice women, Edna), are not necessarily cross and cranky; the unmarried
women I know are all busy, cheerful creatures, full of life and energy,
and very useful in their generation. Father says he always enjoys a talk
with an unmarried lady; so many of them keep their freshness and youth,
even though they have wrinkles o