their affability; she felt awkward, and looked almost repulsively proud.
The younger ones gradually subsided. Margaret had often met Bessie
riding with Mr. Carnegie, and they knew each other to bow to. Bessie
patted Beauty's neck and commended her--a great step towards
friendliness with her mistress--and Margaret said enthusiastically, "Is
she not a darling? She shall have sugar, she shall! Oh, Aunt Olympia,
Beauty went so well to-day!" Then to Bessie: "That is a handsome little
mare you ride: what a sharp trot you go at sometimes!"

"It is my father's pace--we get over the ground fast. Miss Hoyden, she
is called--she is almost thoroughbred."

"You ride, Elizabeth? That is a good hearing," said Mr. Fairfax. "You
shall have a Miss Hoyden at Abbotsmead."

Bessie colored and turned her head for a moment, but said nothing.
Margaret whispered that _would_ be nice. Poor Bessie's romance was now
known to the young ladies of the neighborhood, and she was more
interesting to them than she knew.

Lady Latimer led the way with Mr. Fairfax up the drive overhung with
flowering trees and bushes. On the steps before the open hall-door stood
Mr. Wiley, whom my lady had bidden to call and stay to luncheon when his
pastoral visits brought him into the vicinity of Fairfield. He caught
sight of his young neighbor, Bessie Fairfax, and on the instant, with
that delicious absence of tact which characterized him, he asked
brusquely, "How came _you_ here?" Bessie blushed furiously, and no one
answered--no one seemed to hear but herself; so Mr. Wiley added
confidentially, "It is promotion indeed to come to Fairfield. Keep
humble, Bessie."