“Oh, if only my Hatty knew!” were her last thoughts that night, after she had finished her thanksgiving for the new blessing that had come into her life; and though she was still tremulous and confused with happiness, she quieted herself with a few childlike prayers, and soon slept soundly.
Bessie felt a little nervous as she left the house the next morning, but she tried not to think of herself. Richard was waiting for her on the Parade. One glance at him banished her nervousness; he looked pale and anxious, as though he had not slept, but he made an effort to smile as he held out his hand.
“Is there any hope for me, Bessie?”
“Yes,” she said simply, as she left her hand in his; and Richard needed no further answer.
It was a bright, peaceful hour that followed, as they walked side by side, looking at the shining sea and speaking of the dim future that lay before them.
“I was afraid you were too good for me, Bessie,” Richard said, bye and bye, when he had exhausted his gratitude a little. “Sometimes I used to lose hope. ‘She will never care for such a rough fellow,’ I often said to myself.”
“You must not speak against yourself now,” returned Bessie shyly.
“No, dear, for you have promised to take me just as I am, and that would make any fellow think more of himself. Bessie, you must not mind if my mother is not quite pleased at first; she is an ambitious woman, and her notions are very different from mine.” Bessie did not answer for a moment, and her silence seemed to alarm Richard.
“She is only my stepmother; I am my own master, Bessie.”
“Yes, I know,” in a low voice. “I was thinking about that last night. I am afraid she will not like it, and it troubles me a little. We are not rich, and——”