She was an early riser and a
great walker: her life must have been half as long again as the lives of
most ladies from the little portion of it she devoted to rest. She was
come to Beechhurst now on some business of school, or church, or parish,
which she assumed would, unless by her efforts, soon be at a deadlock.
But years will tell on the most vigorous frames, and my lady looked so
jaded that, if she had fallen in with Mr. Carnegie, he would have
reminded her, for her health's sake, that no woman is indispensable. She
gave Bessie that sweet smile which was flattering as a caress, and was
about to pass on when something wistful in the child's eyes arrested her
notice. She stopped and asked if there was any more news from Woldshire.
Bessie's round cheeks were two roses as she replied that her grandfather
Fairfax had come--that he was _there_ at the very moment, watching them
from the churchyard.
"Where?" said my lady, and turned about to see.
Mr. Fairfax knew her. He descended the steps, came out at the lych-gate,
and met her. At that instant the cast of his countenance reminded Bessie
of her cynical friend Mr. Phipps, and a thought crossed her mind that if
Lady Latimer had not recognized her grandfather and made a movement to
speak, he would not have challenged her. It would have seemed a very
remote period to Bessie, but it did not seem so utterly out of date to
themselves, that Richard Fairfax in his adolescence had almost run mad
for love of my lady in her teens.
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