e listened, while Grey involuntarily gave a low
whistle, and turning on his heel, walked away, and Jack tore the paper
in shreds, which he threw into the empty grate. Then he looked at
Bessie, whose face was now very white and quivering with pain and
disappointment. Jack's first impulse was to denounce Mr. McPherson for
his selfishness and neglect, but his kinder nature prevailed, and he
said, apologetically:

"It is a long way from Vichy here, and the weather is very hot. But
never mind. Grey and I will do all we can, and both Mr. McPherson and
Lady Jane will surely come to you later."

"It is not that. I don't know what it is, only it is dreadful to be
without one of your own kindred at such a time as this. Surely Neil
might come or write," Bessie said, with such pathos in her voice that
Jack looked sharply at her, thinking to himself:

"Is it possible she cares for him more than as a cousin? Doesn't she
know Neil is the last one to inconvenience himself, if he can help it?
Funerals are not to his taste."

But he did not give expression to his thoughts; he said, instead:

"Perhaps Neil is not there. I hardly think he is, as he does not like
Vichy. You will hear from him soon no doubt. I am sorry for your sake
that none of your relatives are here. But don't distress yourself. Grey
and I will do everything."

"I know you will," she said; "but, Mr. Trevellian," and she laid her
hand upon his arm, "you will not send that bill to Neil's father? I have
over forty pounds. I can pay it myself. You will not send it?"

"Never!" Jack answered, emphatically, and then he went out to consult
with Grey, who was sitting in the porch staring hard at an iron post
which Jack began to kick vigorously, as he said: "Well, Jerrold, we are
in for it, you and I; and we will see it through in shape. The old
curmudgeon! He might come as well as not if he chose. There is plenty of
time to get here, and he knows her mother is gone, for I added that to
the dispatch I sent, so as to insure his coming. And where is Neil, the
milksop? He, at least, might come. I have no patience with the whole
tribe. But we will do what we can for the poor little forsaken girl."

"Yes," Grey answered him. "We will do what we can."

CHAPTER XIX.

WHAT GREY AND JACK DID.

They did everything that it was possible for two men to do under the
circumstances. They filled the old house with flowers, until it seemed
like one great garden of bloom, and the