"No, my lady, I have never been in Woldshire since I was a baby. I was
born at Kirkham vicarage, my grandfather Bulmer's house, but I was not a
year old when we came away. I have a drawing of Abbotsmead that my
mother made--it is not beautiful."

"But Abbotsmead is very beautiful--the country round about is not so
delicious as the Forest, for it has less variety: it is out of sight of
the sea, and the trees are not so grand, but Abbotsmead itself is a
lovely spot. The house stands on a peninsula formed by a little brawling
river, and in the park are the ruins that give the place its name. I
remember the garden at Abbotsmead as a garden where the sun always
shone."

Bessie was much cheered. "How glad I am! In my picture the sun does not
shine at all. It is the color of a dark day in November."

The concise simplicity of Bessie's talk pleased Lady Latimer. She
decided that Mrs. Carnegie must be a gentlewoman, and that Bessie had
qualities capable of taking a fine polish. She would have held the child
in conversation longer had not Mrs. Wiley come up, and after a word or
two about the success of the feast, bade Bessie run away and see that
her little brothers were not getting into mischief. Lady Latimer nodded
her a kind dismissal, and off she went.

Six o'clock struck. By that time the buns were all eaten, the prizes
were all distributed, and the cream of the company had driven or walked
away, but cricket still went on in the meadow, and children's games in
the orchard. One or two gentlemen had come on the scene since the fervor
of the afternoon abated. Admiral Parkins, who governed Beechhurst under