oinder, but as she looked
at Bessie she refrained. Bessie's contented, gentle expression, the
quiet dignity that seemed to invest her girlishness, closed Edna's
mouth.

"She is a good little thing, and I won't tease her," she thought. And
she refrained with much magnanimity from one of her droll speeches when
Maud Atherton asked where Miss Lambert was.

"She preferred taking a walk," returned Edna; which was the truth, but
not the whole truth, for, as she said to herself, "those girls shall not
have the chance of laughing at my dear little Bessie." And she cleverly
changed the conversation to a safer topic; for she was quite a
diplomatist in her small way.

"Edna is really very good-natured," thought Bessie gratefully, as she
sauntered happily through the leafy lanes.

How delicious the air felt! It was June, and yet there was still the
crispness of the spring. She felt as though she and the birds had this
beautiful world to themselves, and the twitterings and rustlings in the
thicket were the only sounds that broke the Sabbath stillness.

Bessie had just turned into a sunny bit of road when an abject-looking
white dog with a black patch over his eye suddenly wriggled himself
through a half-closed gate.

"Why, I do believe that is Bill Sykes," thought Bessie, as the creature
stood looking at her. "Bill, what are you doing so far from home?" Bill
wagged his tail feebly in a deprecating manner. "Why don't you walk like
a gentleman?" continued Bessie, and, to her great amusement, the dog
rose solemnly on his hind legs and commenced stalking down the lane.
Bessie burst into a laugh that was echoed by another voice.

"Well done, old Bill." And, looking up, Bessie saw Richard Sefton
leaning on the gate, with his dogs round him. "Don't move, Miss
Lambert," he continued hastily; "stand where you are till I join you."
And as Bessie looked rather surprised at this peremptory speech, he
walked quickly to her side and put his hand on her shoulder. "A friend,
Leo. Excuse my unceremoniousness, Miss Lambert, but Leo needs an
introduction;" and at his words a huge mastiff, who had been eyeing
Bessie in a dubious manner, walked quietly up to her.

"Will it be safe for me to pat him?" asked Bessie, as she looked at the
big tawny head and heavy jowl of the magnificent beast; but the brown
sunken eyes had a friendly expression in them.

"Oh, yes, Leo will be as quiet as a lamb; and what is more, he will
never forget you. You may