For the Petrel had not come into port at Caen since the
autumn, and Janey was still left at school in daily expectation and
uncertainty.
"I am only sorry, Janey, that you are not sure of going home too," said
Bessie, one day, commiserating her.
"If I am not sailing with father I would rather be here. _I_ am not so
lonely since you came," responded Janey.
Then Bessie dilated on the pleasantness of the doctor's house, the
excellent kindness of her father and mother, the goodness of the boys,
the rejoicing there would be at her return, both amongst friends at
Beechhurst and friends at Brook. Each day, after she had indulged her
memory and imagination in this strain, her heart swelled with loving
expectancy, and when the recess was spoken of as beginning "next week,"
she could hardly contain herself for joy.
What a cruel pity that such natural delightsome hopes must all collapse,
all fall to the ground! It was ruled by Mr. Fairfax that his
granddaughter had been absent so short a time that she need not go to
England this winter season. Came a letter from Mrs. Carnegie to express
the infinite disappointment at home. And there an end.
"I cried for three days," Bessie afterward confessed. "It seemed that
there never could befall me such another misery."
It was indeed terrible. In a day the big house was empty of scholars.
Madame Fournier adjourned to Bayeux. Miss Foster went to her mother.
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