“You ought to have some good lessons,” he said frankly. “Your voice has great capabilities, but it has not been properly trained. I hope you do not think my criticism rude.”
“No, indeed; I am too much aware of my own faults. I have only had a few lessons. Miss James was not much of a teacher, but I cannot help singing somehow. Now, have I tired you, or do you want another song?”
“I want more than one,” returned Richard, growing bold. Bessie’s readiness to please, her good-humored reception of his criticism, charmed him. She was so amiable, so willing to be friendly; she was so different from the other girls who came to The Grange. Richard had no patience with them; their airs and graces, their evident desire for masculine admiration disgusted and repelled him. They seemed always seeking for him to pay them little compliments and attentions, and in his heart he despised them.
“Thank you, my dear,” observed Mrs. Sefton graciously, when Bessie had finished. “She sings very nicely, does she not, Edna?”
“Charmingly,” replied Edna; but her smile was hardly as pleased as usual, and she bade Bessie a somewhat cold good-night when they parted an hour later.
CHAPTER XI.
EDNA HAS A GRIEVANCE.
Bessie did not concern herself much about her friend’s coldness. She had tried to atone to Richard for his sister’s unkindness, and she had succeeded in giving one person pleasure.
“I dare say her conscience tells her that she has been naughty, and that makes her cross with me,” thought Bessie, who was too healthy minded to harbor unnecessary scruples.