“Now, Hatty, don’t be selfish. You must not grudge Bessie the first real treat she has ever had offered to her. We have none of us had such a chance before. Fancy staying at a place like The Grange, and seeing lots of nice people.”
“I wish you could go in my place, Chrissy, dear. I am not quite sure how I should like staying with strange people; we have got into homely ways, never going anywhere except to Aunt Charlotte’s or Uncle Charles’, and I don’t know how I should get on with rich people like the Sefton’s; besides, father and mother may not wish me to accept the invitation,” glancing at her mother’s thoughtful face.
“We must see what your father says about it,” returned Mrs. Lambert, rousing herself with difficulty from her abstraction. “I would not talk about it any more, girls, until we know his wishes. It will only disappoint Bessie if she makes up her mind that she would like to accept the invitation, and father thinks it wiser to refuse. Let us put it out of our heads until he comes home, and he and I will have a talk about it.”
“Yes, that will be best,” returned Bessie, putting the letter in the envelope. “Father will not be home until late, but that does not matter; to-morrow will do quite well.” And, to her sister’s surprise and disappointment, she refused to say any more on the subject.
“Mother is quite right,” she observed, as Hatty fussed and grumbled at her silence. “If we talk about it, I shall just long to go, and shall be vexed and disappointed if father wishes me to refuse.”
“But you might coax him to change his mind. Father never likes disappointing us when we set our hearts on anything,” urged Hatty.
“No, indeed; I never like arguing things with father. He is not one to make up his mind in a hurry, like some people; he thinks over a thing thoroughly, and then he gives his opinion. If he does not wish me to go, he will have a good reason for saying so. I never found either father or mother wrong yet, and I am not going to find fault with them now. Don’t let us talk any more about it, Hatty. I want to think of something else.” But, in spite of this wise resolution, Bessie did think a good deal about the letter, and in her heart she hoped that her father would allow her to accept Miss Sefton’s tempting invitation.
Dr. Lambert did not return home that night until long after his girls had retired to rest, and to Bessie’s surprise he said nothing to her at breakfast; but just as she was leaving the room to give out the stores, as usual, he called her back. “Oh, by the by, Bessie,” he observed, “I have to drive out as far as Castleton this afternoon. I will take you with me if you care to go.”
“I always care to go with you, father dear,” replied Bessie, and then she hesitated, as she remembered Hatty’s pale cheeks; “but I think you ought to take Hatty instead; it would do her so much good, and she does so love a drive.”
“No, I think you shall be my companion this afternoon; I will take Hatty to-morrow,” replied the doctor, as he took up his paper again.