her will want to know
how old Mrs. Wright is. Duty before pleasure," finished Bessie, with
good-humored peremptoriness, as she marched off in the direction of the
morning-room.

"Bessie is getting dreadfully old-maidish," observed Katie, in a sulky
voice. "She never used to be so proper. I suppose she thinks it is none
of my business."

When Bessie had got through her list of commissions she sat down to
enjoy her letter quietly, but before she had read many lines her color
rose, and a half-stifled exclamation of surprise came from her lips;
but, in spite of Hatty's curious questions, she read steadily to the
end, and then laid the letter on her mother's lap.

"Oh, mother, do let me hear it," implored Hatty, with the persistence of
a spoiled child. "I am sure there is something splendid about Bessie,
and I do hate mysteries."

"So do I, Hatty; we think alike there. Shall I read it aloud, my dear?"
and as Bessie nodded, Mrs. Lambert read the letter in her quiet, silvery
voice:

"MY DEAR MISS LAMBERT," it began; "I told you that I should not
allow you to forget me, so, you see, I am keeping my promise
like a reliable young woman. Mamma says I have made a bad
commencement to my letter--that self-praise is no
recommendation. I think I remember that profoundly wise saying
in copy-book days; but I hold a more worldly view of the
subject. I think people are taken at their own value; so, on
principle, I never undervalue myself; and the gist of all this
is that I do not intend to be forgotten by a certain young lady
who enacted the part of Good Samaritan in the Sheen Valley.

"Now, as I must candidly confess to a sincere wish for a better
acquaintance with this same young lady, I am writing in my own
and mamma's name to beg you to favor us with your company at The
Grange for a few weeks.

"You must not think this is a very unconventional proceeding on
our part, as our parents were old friends. Mamma is writing to
Dr. Lambert by the same post, and she means to say all sorts of
pretty things to induce him to intrust you to our care.

"I wish I had the power of persuasion. Mamma has such a knack of
saying nice things, but indeed you must come. The Grange is such
a dear old house, and we know such pleasant people, and I want
you to see our Kentish lanes, and indeed mamma and I will make
you so comfortable. I don't mention Richard, b