Before her humble petition was well past her lips the
tears were in her eyes, for she saw that it was not going to be granted.
Mr. Frederick Fairfax never risked being put out of his way, or made to
wait the convenience of others on his yachting cruises. He simply told
Bessie that she could not go, and added no reason why. But almost
immediately after he sent her on shore with Mrs. Betts to Morgan's to
buy a proper glazed hat and to be measured for a serge dress: that was
his way of diverting and consoling her.
Bessie was glad enough to be diverted from the contemplation of her
disappointment. It was a very great pain indeed to be so near, and yet
so cut off from all she loved. The morning was fresh on the pier, and
many people were out inhaling the delicious salt breezes. A clergyman,
wielding a slim umbrella and carrying a black bag and an overcoat, came
lurching along. Bessie recognized Mr. Askew Wiley, and was so overjoyed
to see anybody who came from home that she rushed up to him: "Oh, Mr.
Wiley! how do you do? Are you going back to Beechhurst?" she cried
breathless.
"Bessie Fairfax, surely? How you are grown!" said he, and shook hands.
"Yes, Bessie, I am on my way now to catch the boat. If you want to hear
about your people, you must turn back with me, for I have not a minute
to spare."
Bessie turned back: "Will you please tell them I am on board the Foam,
my uncle Frederick's yacht? I cannot get away to see them, and I don't
know how long we shall stay here, but if they could come over to see
me!" she urged wistfully.
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