A laborer, then another, on their
way to work, passed within sight along a field-path leading to the mill;
a troop of reapers came by the same road. Then there was the pleasant
sound of sharpening a scythe, and Bessie saw a gardener on the lawn
stoop to his task.
She returned to her pillow, and slept again until she was awakened by
somebody coming to her bedside. It was Mrs. Betts, bearing in her hands
one of those elegant china services for a solitary cup of tea which have
popularized that indulgence amongst ladies.
"What is it?" Bessie asked, gazing with a puzzled air at the tiny
turquoise-blue vessels. "Tea? I am going to get up to breakfast."
"Certainly, miss, I hope so. But it is a custom with many young ladies
to have a cup of tea before dressing."
"I will touch my bell if I want anything. No--no tea, thank you,"
responded Bessie; and the waiting-woman felt herself dismissed. Bessie
chose to make and unmake her toilette alone. It was easy to see that her
education had not been that of a young lady of quality, for she was
quite independent of her maid; but Mrs. Betts was a woman of experience
and made allowance for her, convinced that, give her time, she would be
helpless and exacting enough.
Mr. Fairfax and his granddaughter met in the inner hall with a polite
"Good-morning." Elizabeth looked shyly proud, but sweet as a dewy rose.
The door of communication with the great hall was thrown wide open.
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