At this “Miss Adams” went off into a fit of laughter, which sounded very natural to Bessie’s ears; and yet there was a difference in that and in her manner from those of the old days at Quam Beach; something softer and more gentle; “more as if she remembered to be a lady, mamma,” Bessie said afterwards.
The gentleman smiled too.
“Her words are to the point when she does find them,” he said.
“They always were,” said the lady, giving Bessie another kiss. “Bessie, this is the gentleman I found to make me ‘behave myself.’ I hope you’ll find the ‘kitchen lady’ improved under his teaching.”
Bessie colored all over face and neck.
“Oh! please don’t,” she said. “I’m so sorry I said that; but I was such a little child then, I didn’t know any better. I wouldn’t say such a saucy thing now for a great deal.”
“You need not be sorry about it, Bessie: I am not.”
“Please don’t speak about it any more, ma’am,” pleaded the child. “Couldn’t you let bygones be bygones?”
“What do you mean by ‘bygones’?” asked the gentleman.
“I thought it meant, sir,” said Bessie, modestly, “when a person had done something they were sorry for, not to say any thing more about it.”