her often, and took no notice. She was
not devout. She was too facile, too philosophical of temper to have
violent preferences or aversions in religion. A less sober mind than
hers would have yielded to the gentle pressure of universal example, but
Bessie was not of those who are given to change. She would have made an
excellent Roman Catholic if she had been born and bred in that
communion, but she had disappointed everybody's pious hopes and efforts
for her conversion to it. She once said to the _cure_ that holiness of
life was the chief thing, and she could not make out that it was the
monopoly of any creed or any sect, or any age of the world. He gave her
his blessing, and, not to acknowledge a complete defeat, he told Madame
Fournier that if the dear young lady met with poignant griefs and
mortifications, for which there were abundant opportunities in her
circumstances, he had expectations that she might then seek refuge and
consolation in the tender arms of the Church. Madame did not agree with
him. She had studied Bessie's character more closely, and believed that
whatever her trials, her strength would always suffice for her day, and
that whatever she changed she would not change her profession of faith
or deny her liberal and practical Protestant principles.

There was hurry at the end, as in most departures, but it was soon
over, and then followed a delicious calm. The yacht was towed down the
river in the beautiful cool of the evening. A pretty awning shaded the
deck, and there Bessie dined daintily with her uncle and Mr. Cecil
Burleigh, and for the first time in her life was served with polite
assiduity. She looked very handsome and more coquettish than she had any
idea of in her white dress and red _capuchon_, but she felt shy at being
made so much of. She did not readily adapt herself to worship. Mr. Cecil
Burleigh had arrived from Paris only that afternoon, and had many
amusing things to tell of his pleasures and adventures there. He spoke
of Paris as one who loved the gay city, and seemed in excellent spirits.
If his mission had a political object, he must certainly have carried it
through with triumphant success; but his talk was of balls, _fetes_,
plays and shows.

After they had dined Bessie was left to her memories and musings, while
the gentlemen went pacing up and down the deck in earnest conversation.
It was a perfect evening. The sky was full of color, scarlet, rosy,
violet, primrose--changing,