I
hope he will arrive here on Tuesday."
Lady Angleby looked full in Bessie's face, which was instantly
overspread by a haughty blush. Miss Burleigh looked anywhere else. And
both drew the same conclusion--that the young lady's imagination was all
on fire, and that her heart would not be slow to yield and melt in the
combustion. The next move was back to the octagon parlor. The young
people walked to the open window; the elders had communications to
exchange that might or might not concern them, but which they were not
invited to hear. They leant on the sill and talked low. Miss Burleigh
began the conversation by remarking that Miss Fairfax must find
Abbotsmead very strange, being but just escaped from school.
"It is strange, but one grows used to any place very soon," Bessie
answered.
"You have no companion, and Mr. Fairfax sets his face against duennas.
What shall you do next week?"
"What I am bid," said Bessie laconically. "My grandfather has bespoken
for me the good offices of Mrs. Stokes as guide to the choice of a blue
bonnet; the paramount duty of my life at present seems to be to conform
myself to the political views of Mr. Cecil Burleigh in the color of my
ribbons. I have great pleasure in doing so, for blue is my color, and
suits me."
Miss Burleigh had a good heart, and let Bessie's little bravado pass.
"Are you interested in the coming election? I cannot think of anything
else.
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