She is
a grand old lady; and what cubs we were, Bessie, to throw her kindness
in her face before! How angry you were!"
"You were afraid that her patronage might be a trespass on your
independence. It was a mistake in the right direction, if it was a
mistake at all. Poor Mr. Logger is called a toady because he loves to
visit at the comfortable houses of rich great widow ladies, but I am
sure they love to have him. Lady Latimer does not approve you any the
less for not being eager to accept her invitations. You know I was fond
of her--I looked up to her more than anybody. I believe I do still."
There was a brief pause, and then Harry said, "I have heard nothing of
Abbotsmead yet, Bessie?"
"There is not much to hear. I live there, but no longer in the character
of heiress; that prospect is changed by the opportune discovery that my
uncle Laurence had the wisdom, some five years ago, to take a wife to
please himself, instead of a second fine lady to please my grandfather.
He made a secret of it, for which there was no necessity and not much
excuse, but he did it for their happiness. They have three capital
little boys, who, of course, have taken my shoes. I am not sorry. I
don't care for Woldshire or Abbotsmead. The Forest has my heart."
"And mine. A man may set his hopes high, so I go on aspiring to the
possession of this earthly paradise of Brook."
Bessie was smitten with a sudden recollection of what more Harry had
aspired to that time she was admitted into his confidence respecting the
old manor-house.
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