"I'm sure his mother thanks you," said Mrs. Musgrave as they went out.
"He was so jaded this morning when he arrived that the tears came into
his eyes at a word, and Mr. Carnegie said that showed how thoroughly
done he is."
Tears in Harry's eyes! Bessie thought of him with a most pitiful
tenderness. "Oh," she said, "we must all be good to him: he does not
look so ill to me as he looks tired. We must keep up his spirits and his
hope for himself. I see no cause for despair."
"You are young, Bessie Fairfax, and it is easy for you to hope that
everything will turn out for the best, but it is a sore trial for his
father and me to have our expectation taken away. If Harry would have
been advised when he left college, he would never have gone to London.
But it is no use talking of that now. I wish we could see what he is to
do for a living; he will fret his heart out doing nothing at Brook."
"Oh, Mrs. Musgrave, with a quire of paper and one of your gray
goosequills Harry will be preserved from the mischief of doing nothing.
You must let me come over and cheer him sometimes."
"If things had turned out different with my poor son, all might have
been different. You have a good, affectionate disposition, Bessie, and
there is nobody Harry prizes as he prizes you; but a young man whose
health is indifferent and who has no prospects--what is that for a young
lady?" Mrs. Musgrave began to cry.
"Don't cry, dear Mrs.
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