How far off her _debut_ might be no one had yet inquired. Since her late
experiences there was little certainty in Bessie's expectations of going
to Beechhurst for the long vacation which began in July. And it was
salutary that she entertained a doubt, for it mitigated disappointment
when it came. About a fortnight before the breaking up madame sent for
her one evening in to the _salon_, and with much consideration informed
her that it was arranged she should go with her to Bayeux and to the
sea, instead of going to England. Bessie had acquired the art of
controlling her feelings, and she accepted the fiat in silence. But she
felt a throb of vindictive rage against her grandfather, and said in her
heart that to live in a world where such men were masters, women ought
to be made of machinery. She refused to write to him, but she wrote home
to Beechhurst, and asked if any of them were coming to see her. But the
loving joint reply of her father and mother was that they thought it
better not.
Madame Fournier was indulgent in holiday-time, and Bessie was better
pleased at Bayeux than she had thought it possible to be. The canon
proved to be the most genial of old clergymen. He knew all the romance
of French history, and gave Bessie more instruction in their peripatetic
lectures about that drowsy, ancient city than she could have learnt in a
year of dull books. Then there was Queen Matilda's famous tapestry to
study in the museum, a very retired, rustic nook, all embowered in
vines.
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