"
"You are making game of her, like my Arthur. No, she is not a radical;
that is all her _hum_. I believe Lord Angleby was something of the sort,
but I don't understand much about politics."
"Only for the present occasion we are blue?" said Bessie airily.
"Yes--all blue," echoed Mrs. Stokes. "Sky-blue," and they both laughed.
"You must agree at what hour you will go into Norminster on Monday--the
half-past-eleven train is the best," Colonel Stokes said.
"Cannot we go to-morrow?" his wife asked.
"No, it is Saturday, market-day;" and his suggestion was adopted.
When the visit was over, in the pleasantness of the late afternoon,
Bessie walked through the gardens and across the park with these
neighbors to Abbotsmead. A belt of shrubbery and a sunk fence divided
the grounds of the lodge from the park, and there was easy
communication by a rustic bridge and a wicket left on the latch. "I hope
you will come often to and fro, and that you will seek me whenever you
want me. This is the shortest way," Mrs. Stokes said to her. Bessie
thanked her, and then walked back to the house, taking her time, and
thinking what a long while ago it was since yesterday.
Yesterday! Only yesterday she was on board the Foam that had brought her
from France, that had passed by the Forest--no longer ago than
yesterday, yet as far off already as a year ago.
Thinking of it, she fell into a melancholy that belonged to her
character.
Pages:
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240