‘I understand,’ said Bessie. ‘I doubt—’
‘Perhaps you will think it over.’
Bessie’s first thought was, ‘If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, then let my right hand forget her cunning.’ That had been the inward motto of her life. Her second was, ‘Little Sam! David’s mission room!’ There was no necessity to answer at once, and she knew the periodical rather by report than by reading, so she accepted the two numbers that were left with her, and promised to reply in a week. It was a question on which to take counsel with her father, and with her own higher conscience and heavenly Guide.
The Admiral, though not much given to reading for its own sake, and perhaps inclined to think ephemeral literature the more trifling because his little daughter was a great light there, was anything but a dull man, and had an excellent judgment. So Bessie, with all the comfort of a woman still with a wise father’s head over her, decided to commit the matter to him. He was somewhat disappointed at finding her agreeable guest gone, and wished that dinner and bed had been offered.
Mrs. Merrifield and Susan were still a good deal excited about Arthurine’s complimentary friend, who they said seemed to belong to Fred Mytton, of whom some of the ladies had been telling most unpleasant reports, and there was much lamentation over the set into which their young neighbour had thrown herself.
‘Such a dress too!’ sighed Mrs. Merrifield.
‘And her headmistress has just arrived,’ said Susan, ‘to make her worse than ever!’
‘How comes a headmistress to be running about the country at this time of year?’ asked Bessie.
‘She has been very ill,’ said Mrs. Merrifield, ‘and they wrote to her to come down as soon as she could move. There was a telegram this morning, and she drove up in the midst of the party, and was taken to her room at once to rest. That was the reason Miss Arthuret was away so long. I thought it nice in her.’
‘Perhaps she will do good,’ said Bessie.