t and won
large sums at Monte Carlo and Baden Baden, when the tables were open
there, and, like most Englishmen, he never played whist that something
was not staked; it gave zest to the game, which to him would be very
insipid without it: but Bessie's eyes could have made him face the
cannon's mouth, if need be, and he said to her at once:

"I promise that, too. I will never play again for money with anyone,
but for my reward you must let me visit you at Stoneleigh sometime."

"Oh, yes, you may," she answered, "but I warn you it is a poor place to
come to, with only old Anthony and Dorothy to do anything. I have to
work, and you may have to work, too, and do other things than mending
father's coat."

She spoke playfully, and Jack declared his readiness to sift cinders, or
scour knives, or do anything, if she would let him come. Just then Neil
arrived, not altogether pleased to find Jack there before him, standing
close to Bessie, who was looking very happy. The two young men went with
her to the station, where they vied with each other in showing her
attention. Jack held her traveling-bag, and her parasol and fan, and
band-box containing the white chip hat, and Neil held her shawl, and
umbrella, and paper bag of biscuits and seed cakes which Mrs. Buncher
had given her to eat upon the road, and when at last she was gone, and
they walked out of the station into the noisy street, each felt that the
brightness of the summer day had changed, and that something
inexpressibly sweet had been taken from them.

CHAPTER IX.

CHRISTMAS AT STONELEIGH.

Two years and a half after that visit to London, Bessie McPherson, now a
young lady of nearly eighteen, stood by the western window of the old
house at Stoneleigh reading a letter from Neil. He had been at
Stoneleigh several times since that summer in London, and these visits,
with his letters always so affectionate and bright, were the only breaks
in Bessie's monotonous life. Once Jack had been there for a few days, or
rather to the "George," where he slept and took his meals, spending the
rest of the time with Bessie, who interested him more and more, and from
whom he at last fled as from a positive danger. With his limited income
and his habits, he could not hope to marry, even if Bessie would have
joined her young life with his matured one, which he doubted, and, with
a great pang of regret he left her in the old Stoneleigh garden and did
not dare look back at her,