



Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net









[Illustration: "HOW GOOD OF YOU TO COME!" SHE EXCLAIMED. BESSIE SAW SHE
HAD BEEN CRYING.]




    OUR BESSIE

    BY

    ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY

    AUTHOR OF "MERLE'S CRUSADE," "NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS,"
    "ONLY THE GOVERNESS," ETC.

    THE MERSHON COMPANY

    RAHWAY, N. J.    NEW YORK




CONTENTS.


                                           PAGE

    CHAPTER I.
    BESSIE MEETS WITH AN ADVENTURE            1

    CHAPTER II.
    "HERE IS OUR BESSIE"                     16

    CHAPTER III.
    HATTY                                    31

    CHAPTER IV.
    A COSY MORNING                           46

    CHAPTER V.
    THE OATLANDS POST-MARK                   61

    CHAPTER VI.
    LITTLE MISS MUCH-AFRAID                  74

    CHAPTER VII.
    IN THE KENTISH LANES                     87

    CHAPTER VIII.
    AT THE GRANGE                           101

    CHAPTER IX.
    RICHARD SEFTON                          115

    CHAPTER X.
    BESSIE IS INTRODUCED TO BILL SYKES      129

    CHAPTER XI.
    EDNA HAS A GRIEVANCE                    148

    CHAPTER XII.
    THE FIRST SUNDAY AT THE GRANGE          156

    CHAPTER XIII.
    WHITEFOOT IN REQUISITION                171

    CHAPTER XIV.
    BESSIE SNUBS A HERO                     183

    CHAPTER XV.
    "SHE WILL NOT COME"                     197

    CHAPTER XVI.
    A NOTE FROM HATTY                       209

    CHAPTER XVII.
    "TROUBLE MAY COME TO ME ONE DAY"        222

    CHAPTER XVIII.
    "FAREWELL, NIGHT"                       236

    CHAPTER XIX.
    "I MUST NOT THINK OF MYSELF"            249

    CHAPTER XX.
    "BESSIE'S SECOND FLITTING"              263

    CHAPTER XXI.
    ON THE PARADE                           276

    CHAPTER XXII.
    BESSIE BUYS A JAPANESE FAN              289

    CHAPTER XXIII.
    MRS. SEFTON HAS ANOTHER VISITOR         303

    CHAPTER XXIV.
    IN THE COOMBE WOODS                     318




OUR BESSIE.




CHAPTER I.

BESSIE MEETS WITH AN ADVENTURE.


It was extremely tiresome!

It was vexatious; it was altogether annoying!

Most people under similar circumstances would have used stronger
expressions, would have bemoaned themselves loudly, or at least
inwardly, with all the pathos of self-pity.

To be nearly at the end of one's journey, almost within sight and sound
of home fires and home welcomes, and then to be snowed up, walled,
imprisoned, kept in durance vile in an unexpected snowdrift--well, most
human beings, unless gifted with angelic patience, and armed with
special and peculiar fortitude, would have uttered a few groans under
such depressing circumstances.

Fortunately, Bessie Lambert was not easily depressed. She was a cheerful
young person, an optimist by nature; and, thanks to a healthy
organization, good digestion, and wholesome views of duty, was not
given to mental nightmares, nor to cry out before she was hurt.

Bessie would have thought it faint-hearted to shrink at every little
molehill of difficulty; she had plenty of what the boys call pluck (no
word is more eloquent than that), and a fund of quiet humor that tided
her safely over many a slough of despond. If any one could have read
Bessie's thoughts a few minutes after the laboring engine had ceased to
work, they would have been as follows, with little staccato movements
and pauses:

"What an adventure! How Tom would laugh, and Katie too! Katie is always
longing for something to happen to her; but it would be more enjoyable
if I had some one with me to share it, and if I were sure father and
mother would not be anxious. An empty second-class compartment is not a
particularly comfortable place on a cold afternoon. I wonder how it
would be if all the passengers were to get out and warm themselves with
a good game of snowballing. There is not much room, though; we should
have to play it in a single file, or by turns. Supposing that, instead
of that, the nice, white-haired old gentleman who got in at the last
station were to assemble us all in the third-class carriage and tell us
a story about Siberia; that would be nice and exciting. Tom would
suggest a ghost story, a good creepy one; but that would be too dismal.
The hot-water tin is getting cold, but I have got a rug, I am thankful
to say, so I shall not freeze for the next two hours. If I had only a
book, or could go to sleep--oh!" in a tone of relief, as the guard's
face was suddenly thrust in at the open window.

"I beg your pardon, miss; I hope I did not startle you; but there is a
young lady in the first-class compartment who, I take it, would be the
better for a bit of company; and as I saw you were alone, I thought you
might not object to change your carriage."

"No, indeed; I shall be delighted to have a companion," returned Bessie
briskly. "How long do you think we shall be detained here, guard?"

"There is no knowing, miss; but one of our men is working his way back
to the signals. We have not come more than three miles since we left
Cleveley. It is only a bit of a drift that the snow-plow will soon
clear, and it will be a matter of two or three hours, I dare say; but it
has left off snowing now."

"Will they telegraph to Cliffe the reason of the delay?" asked Bessie, a
little anxiously.

"Oh, yes, they will do that right enough; you needn't be uneasy. The
other young lady is in a bit of a fuss, too, but I told her there was no
danger. Give a good jump, miss; there, now you are all right. I will
take care of your things. Follow me, please; it is only a step or so."

"This is more of an adventure than ever," thought Bessie, as she
followed the big, burly guard. "What a kind man he is! Perhaps he has
daughters of his own." And she thanked him so warmly and so prettily as
he almost lifted her into the carriage, that he muttered, as he turned
away:

"That's a nice, pleasant little woman. I like that sort."

The first-class compartment felt warm and snug. Its only tenant was a
fair, pretty-looking girl, dressed very handsomely in a mantle trimmed
with costly fur, and a fur-lined rug over her knees.

"Oh, thank you! How good of you to come!" she exclaimed eagerly; and
Bessie saw at once that she had been crying. "I was feeling so
frightened and miserable all by myself. I got it into my head that
another train would run into us, and I was quite in a panic until the
guard assured me there was no danger. He told me that there was another
young lady alone, and that he would bring her to me."

"Yes, that was so nice of him; and of course it is pleasanter to be able
to speak to somebody," returned Bessie cheerfully; "and it is so much
warmer here."

"Take some of my rug; I do not need it all myself; and we may as well be
as comfortable as we can, under the miserable circumstances."

"Well, do you know I think it might be worse?"

"Worse! how can you talk so?" with a shudder.

"Why, it can hardly be a great hardship to sit for another two hours in
this nice warm carriage, with this beautiful rug to cover us. It
certainly was a little dull and cold in the other compartment, and I
longed to get out and have a game of snowballing to warm myself." But
here her companion gave a little laugh.

"What a funny idea! How could you think of such a thing?" And here she
looked, for the first time, rather scrutinizingly at Bessie. Oh, yes,
she was a lady--she spoke nicely and had good manners; but how very
shabbily she was dressed--at least, not shabbily; that was not the right
word--inexpensively would have been the correct term.

Bessie's brown tweed had evidently seen more seasons than one; her
jacket fitted the trim figure, but was not made in the last fashion; and
the brown velvet on her hat was decidedly worn. How was the young lady
to know that Bessie was wearing her oldest things from a sense of
economy, and that her new jacket and best hat--a very pretty one--were
in the neat black box in the luggage-van?

Certainly the two girls were complete opposites. Bessie, who, as her
brother Tom often told her, was no beauty, was, notwithstanding, a
bright, pleasant-looking girl, with soft gray eyes that could express a
great deal of quiet sympathy on occasions, or could light up with fun.
People who loved her always said Bessie's face was better than a
beautiful one, for it told nothing but the truth about itself. It did
not say, "Come, admire me," as some faces say, but, "Come, trust me if
you can."

The fashionably dressed young stranger had a very different type of
face. In the first place, it was undeniably pretty; no one ever thought
of contradicting that fact, though a few people might have thought it a
peculiar style of beauty, for she had dark-brown eyes and fair
hair--rather an uncommon combination.

She was small, too, and very pale, and yet not fragile-looking; on the
contrary, she had a clear look of health