This recognition, and certain possible, even probable, results had been
anticipated before Bessie was suffered to come into the Forest. Lady
Angleby had said to Mr. Fairfax: "Entrust her to Lady Latimer for a
short while. Granting her humble friends all the virtues that humanity
adorns itself with, they must want some of the social graces. Those
people always dispense more or less with politeness in their familiar
intercourse. Now, Cecil is exquisitely polite, and Miss Fairfax has a
fine, delicate feeling. She cannot but make comparisons and draw
conclusions. Solid worth apart, the charm of manner is with us. I shall
expect decisive consequences from this visit."
What Bessie actually discerned was that all the old tenderness that had
blessed her childhood, and that gives the true sensitive touch, was
still abiding: father, mother, Harry--dearest of all who were most dear
to her--had not lost one whit of it. And judged by the eye, where love
looked out, Harry's great frame, well knit and suppled by athletic
sports, had a dignity, and his irregular features a beauty, that pleased
her better than dainty, high-bred elegance. He had to push his way over
the obstacles of poverty and obscure birth, and she was a young lady of
family and fortune, but she looked up to him with as meek a humility as
ever she had done when they were friends and comrades together, before
her vicissitudes began and her exalted kinsfolk reclaimed her.
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