It was not often that Geraldine praised anything or anybody as she praised this little English girl who had made a strong impression upon her, and of whom she might have said more if Miss McPherson had not rejoined:
"I did see her once, and her mother, too. I was home three years ago, you know, and I went to Aberystwyth in Wales, where I heard Archie was staying, but I did not make myself known to him, I was so disgusted with what I heard of his wife's conduct, which he allowed without a word of protest. But I was anxious to see the child, and one morning I sat on a bench on the Marine Terrace watching a group of children playing near me. I was almost sure that the one with the blue eyes and bright hair was Archie's and so I called aloud, 'Betsey McPherson, are you there?'
"Instantly she came to me, and folding her hands in my lap, looked up at me with her wondering eyes and said:
"'I am Bessie McPherson, not Betsey.'
"'Weren't you christened Betsey?' I asked, and she replied:
"'Yes, but they never call me that. It's a horrid name, mamma says.'
"'Then why did she give it to you?' I said, and she answered with the utmost gravity:
"'For some old auntie in America who has money; but she never sent me a thing, nor answered papa's letter. I think she is mean, don't you?'
"I did not tell her what I thought of the old auntie, though I could not repress a smile at her frankness, which pleased me more than prevarication would have done.
"'Where is your papa?' I asked, and she replied: