Beechhurst will always be home to me. If I
had my choice I would not go to Kirkham."
Lady Latimer thought again what a nice voice Bessie had, and regarded
her with a growing interest, that arose in part out of her own
recollections. She questioned her concerning her father's death, and the
circumstances of her adoption by Mr. and Mrs. Carnegie, and reflected
that, happily, she was too simple, too much of a child yet, for any but
family attachments--happily, because, though Bessie had no experience to
measure it by, there would be a wide difference between her position as
the doctor's adopted daughter amongst a house full of children, and as
heiress presumptive of Mr. Fairfax of Abbotsmead.
"Have you ever seen Abbotsmead, Bessie?" she said.
"No, my lady, I have never been in Woldshire since I was a baby. I was
born at Kirkham vicarage, my grandfather Bulmer's house, but I was not a
year old when we came away. I have a drawing of Abbotsmead that my
mother made--it is not beautiful."
"But Abbotsmead is very beautiful--the country round about is not so
delicious as the Forest, for it has less variety: it is out of sight of
the sea, and the trees are not so grand, but Abbotsmead itself is a
lovely spot. The house stands on a peninsula formed by a little brawling
river, and in the park are the ruins that give the place its name. I
remember the garden at Abbotsmead as a garden where the sun always
shone.
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