It was an
understood thing that Mr. Cecil Burleigh could not afford to marry a
scantily-portioned wife, and a whisper got abroad that Miss Fairfax was
to prosper in her fortunes as she behaved, and to be rich or poor
according as she married to please her grandfather or persevered in
refusing his choice. If Bessie heard it, she behaved as though she heard
it not. She went on being good to the old man with a most complete and
unconscious self-denial--read to him, wrote for him, walked and drove
with him at his will and pleasure, which began to be marked with all the
exacting caprice of senility. And the days, weeks, months slipped round
again to golden September. Monotony abridges time, and, looking behind
her, Bessie could hardly believe that it was over a year ago since she
came home from France.
One day her grandfather observed or imagined that she looked paler than
her wont. He had a letter in his hand, which he gave to her, saying,
"You were disappointed of your visit to Fairfield in the spring,
Elizabeth: would you like to go now? Lady Latimer renews her invitation,
and I will spare you for a week or two."
Oh, the surprise and delight of this unexpected bounty! Bessie blushed
with gratitude. She was the most grateful soul alive, and for the
smallest mercies. Lady Latimer wrote that she should not find Fairfield
dull, for Dora Meadows was on a long stay there, and she expected her
friend Mr.
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