touched her arm.

"My dear child, why have you hidden yourself? and what has become of
Edna?"

"Edna?" looking round; but there was clearly no vestige of her, or of
Mr. Sinclair either. It was easy to escape detection in that crowd. "She
was here just now. Mr. Sinclair was with her, and----"

"Neville here!" in intense surprise.

"Yes; and Edna seemed rather upset at seeing him, and so I left them."

"You have taken my breath away," exclaimed Mrs. Sefton. "Oh, Bessie, do
you think---- Come and let me sit down somewhere; my sight-seeing is
over What did he say to her? How did they meet? Did he speak first?"

"Don't ask me; I know nothing," replied Bessie, with an odd little
laugh. "She pointed him out to me, and asked if it were her fancy; and
then he saw us, and Edna looked very white, and he held out his hand and
said something; and then there was that Japanese fan, and of course, I
heard nothing more."

"You left them. That was right; you were very sensible, my dear."

"Let me tell you everything," said Bessie, feeling burdened by her
secret. "I have seen Mr. Sinclair before; I met him on the Parade, and
it was I who told him to come here." And she related the purport of her
conversation with him.

Mrs Sefton seemed much moved. "It will come right;" she said, in an
agitated voice. "My poor child will be happy again. Bessie, I cannot
tell you how grateful I am to you. I love Neville like a son. It is the
wish of my heart to see Edna his wife. He has brilliant prospects. He is
a rising man, and immensely clever; and Edna will never care for any one
else."

Bessie forgave this worldly speech on account of the motherly tone in
which it was said.

"He must have taken her away; they are certainly not in this room," she
said bye and bye. "Perhaps they are in the gardens; they will be quieter
there."

"Never mind, we will not look for them. You must amuse yourself, Bessie,
until they come of their own accord. Suppose we buy something at the
Crawfords' stall. I want you to choose something pretty for each of your
sisters. Throw that hideous fan away! It is not worth sixpence. Where
did you pick up such an ugly thing?"

"It was the first handy article," replied Bessie. "Throw it away! No
indeed! I shall keep it forever as a memento of this day."

But Mrs. Sefton, in high good-humor, vowed that she should have a
prettier remembrance of the day than that. A few minutes afterward she
put a lovely little work-cas