him,
and his blossom of a wife was much too happy to care for the old
squire's perversity unless he cared; but they were both sorry for
Bessie.

"My grandfather lets me have everything but what I want," she said with
a tinge of rueful humor. "He surrounds me with every luxury, and denies
me the drink of cold water that I thirst for. I wish I could escape from
his tyranny. We were beginning to be friends, and this has undone it
all. A refusal would not have been half so unkind."

"There is nothing but time to trust to," said her uncle Laurence. "My
father's resentment is not active, but it lasts."

Bessie was quite alone that long evening, the last of the old year: at
Beechhurst or at Brook there was certainly a party. Nor had she any
intimation of the time of her grandfather's return beyond what Jonquil
had been able to give her a week ago. He had not written since he left,
and an accumulation of letters awaited him in his private room, Jonquil
having been unable to forward any for want of an address. The dull
routine of the house proceeded for three days more, and then the master
reappeared at luncheon without notice to anybody.

Mr. Fairfax took his seat at the table, ate hungrily, and looked so
exactly like himself, and so unconscious of having done anything to
provoke anger, to give pain or cause anxiety, that Bessie's imaginary
difficulties in anticipation of his return were instantly removed. He
made polite inquiries after Janey and Joss, and even hoped that Bessie
had been enlivened by her little cousins' visit. She would certainly not
have mentioned them if he had not, but, as he asked the question, she
was not afraid to answer him.

"Yes," said she, "children are always good company to me, especially
boys; and they behaved so nicely, though they are very high-spirited,
that I don't think they would have been inconvenient if you had stayed
at home."

"Indeed? I am glad to hear they are being well brought up," said the
squire; and then he turned to Jonquil and asked for his letters.

CHAPTER XXXV.

_ABBOTSMEAD IN SHADOW._

Mr. Fairfax's letters were brought to him, and after glancing cursorily
through the batch, he gathered them all up and went off to his private
room. Bessie conjectured that he would be busy for the rest of the
afternoon, and she took a walk in the park until dusk, when she returned
to the house and retired to her own parlor. The dressing-bell rang at a
quarter to seven, as