and the singularity of her attire. Poor child! with her own industrious
fingers had she lavishly embroidered that heathen embroidery. The
gentlemen were not critically severe; the ladies looked at her, and
looked again for her escort's sake, and wondered how this prodigiously
fine gentleman came to have foregathered with so outlandish a blushing
girl; for Bessie, when she perceived herself an object of curious
observation, blushed furiously under the unmitigated fire of their gaze.
And most heartily did she wish herself back again on board the Foam.

Mr. Cecil Burleigh had friends and acquaintances everywhere, and some
very dear friends at this moment at Ryde. That was why he ended his
yachting there. As he advanced with Bessie up the pier every minute
there was an arrest, a brisk inquiry, and a reply. At last a halt that
might have been a _rendezvous_ occurred, finding of seats ensued, with
general introductions, and then a settling down on pretence of watching
the yachts through a glass. It was a very pretty spectacle, and Bessie
was left at liberty to enjoy it, and also to take note of the many gay
and fashionable folk who enrich and embellish Ryde in the season; for
Mr. Cecil Burleigh was entirely engrossed with another person. The
party they had joined consisted of a very thin old gentleman, spruce,
well brushed, and well cared for; of a languid, pale lady, some thirty
years younger, who was his wife; and of two girls, their daughters. It
was one of these daughters who absorbed all Mr. Cecil Burleigh's
attention, and Bessie recognized her at once as that most beautiful
young lady to whom he had been devoted at the Fairfield wedding. His
meeting with her had quite transfigured him. He looked infinitely glad,
an expression that was reflected on her countenance in a lovely light of
joy. It was not necessary to be a witch to discern that there was an
understanding between these two--that they loved one another. Bessie saw
it and felt sympathetic, and was provoked at the recollection of her