And "not Bessie," Jack thought, as he, too, remembered a quiet spot away to the north of England, where the tall monuments bore the name of Trevellian, and where his race were buried.
The services over at the grave, they went back to the house, and in the evening Grey said good-by, for on the morrow he was due at Liverpool to meet his Aunt Lucy, who was coming abroad to spend a year with him in travel.
"I shall see you again before I go to America, and it possible will bring my Aunt Lucy with me," he said to her, when at parting he stood a few moments with her small, thin hand in his, while he spoke a few words to her of Him who can heal all pain and cure the sorest heart sorrow, because he has felt it all.
Grey's piety, which was genuine, did not so often manifest itself in words as in deeds, but he felt constrained to speak to Bessie, whose tears fell like rain as she listened to him, and who felt when he was gone a greater sense of loneliness than before, even though Jack was left to her; Jack, who tried so hard to soothe her, and who was tender and thoughtful as a brother, and gave no sign to her of the volcano raging within when he thought of the Hon. John and Neil, neither of whom sent a word to the stricken girl waiting so anxiously for news from them. But he wrote to them both. To the Hon. John, he said:
"DEAR SIR:—Mr. Grey Jerrold and myself saw your nephew buried decently as you suggested, but there is no bill to send you, as Miss Bessie would not allow it. I am sorry you did not find it convenient to come to the funeral. The presence of some one of her family would have been such a comfort to Miss Bessie, who, in that respect, was quite alone, though I may say that hundreds of people attended the funeral, and had the deceased been the eldest son of an earl, instead of your nephew, more respect could not have been paid him. I must leave here to-morrow for Trevellian Castle, and then Miss Bessie will be quite alone, but I dare say you and Lady Jane will soon arrive to take charge of her.
"Respectfully,
"JACK TREVELLIAN."
"That will settle him," Jack thought, and taking a fresh sheet, he commenced a letter to Neil, which ran as follows:
"STONELEIGH, July ——.
"OLD BOY; Where in the name of wonder are you, that you neither come, nor write, nor answer telegrams, nor pay any more attention to your Cousin Bessie than if she were not your cousin, and you had never been pretty far gone in regard to her and afraid a chap like me would look at her! Don't you know her mother is on the sea, going to America, sick as a horse, I hope, as she ought to be, and that her father is dead and buried, and not a soul of her kin here to comfort her? But she was not deserted, I assure you, and I call it a dispensation of Providence which sent Grey Jerrold here the night before Mr. McPherson died, and a second dispensation which sent me here the day after. I never pitied anybody in my life as I did the little, tired out, girl, who stood between Jerrold and myself at the grave. And now, the day after the funeral, she is white as a piece of paper and seems as limp and exhausted, as if all the muscle were gone from her. Poor little Bessie! Foolish Bessie, too, to make the moan she does for some of her relatives to be here—for you, old chap, for I heard her say, 'Oh, if Neil were here.' By Jove! if I'd had you by the nape of the neck, I'd have shaken you into shoestrings, for I know well what you are at—saying soft speeches to Blanche as if that were not settled long ago. But no matter, Bessie will not need attention from her relatives much longer if I can have my way. I do not mind telling you that I intend to make her Lady Trevellian, if she will be that. But meantime your mother ought to take her in charge and not leave her here alone. The thing is impossible, and I have no idea that butterfly of a Daisy will come back at once. I shall not ask Bessie now to be my wife, but in a week or two, I shall do so, and will then report success. I think Jerrold is hard hit, too; but I mean to get the start of him. I need not tell you that, notwithstanding I am so disgusted with you, I shall be glad to see you at Trevellian Castle whenever you choose to come. I cannot get accustomed to my change of fortune, and I am so sorry poor Hal is dead.