It was three days before an answer came to Bessie's letter, and in that time she developed a most astonishing talent for architecture, or rather for devising and planning how to repair and improve a house. At least twenty sheets of paper were wasted with the plans she drew of what she meant to do. There were to be bow-windows here, and balconies there, and porticoes in another place; chimneys were to be moved as readily and easily as if they had been pieces of furniture; partitions thrown down, doors taken away, and portieres substituted. All the solid, old-fashioned furniture was to be discarded, and light, airy articles to take its place, like the willow work and brass bedsteads then on their way to Hardy Manor as a gift from Mrs. Browne. Indeed, it was not until Grey told Bessie that she was outdoing the Yankees in her desire for change, and asked if she were copying Mrs. Rossiter-Browne, that she stopped to rest, and concluded to wait for a letter from Neil before she commenced the work of knocking down and hauling out, as Dorothy expressed it.

At last the letter came, not from Neil, but from his father, who, after thanking Bessie most cordially for her generous offer, which he was glad to accept, wrote as follows: "I hope you will not be disappointed because I answer your letter in place of Neil, who said he could not possibly do it. He is greatly changed, and does not seem like himself at all. After reading your letter and passing it to me, he sat for a long time staring blankly at nothing, with a look on his face which I could not understand, and when I asked him what was the matter, he put his head upon the table and cried as young men never cry except they are greatly moved, and I cried, too; though why I cannot tell, unless it was for all the trouble which has come upon us at once, the loss of my wife, the loss of our home, and the fact that Neil must now, from necessity, do something to earn his bread. But I do not think he minds that as much as one might suppose, and when I began to cry he stopped at once and tried to comfort me, and said our lot was not a hard one by any means, when compared with what many had to endure; that it was a good thing to have to bestir himself; that he had been a lazy, conceited, selfish puppy long enough, and that if it were possible he meant to be a man. And then he spoke of you as his good angel, and said you were the truest, purest, and sweetest woman in all the world, and that neither of us could ever repay you and your husband for your generosity to us. I am sure I cannot, nor can I tell you how happy I shall be at Stoneleigh. I am afraid you will have a steady incumbent, for once there, I do not believe I shall care to leave it. I have seen all of the world I wish to, and the quiet and peace of Stoneleigh will be very grateful to me. I think, however, that for the winter I shall remain in London, where I hope to see you and Mr. Jerrold, whose father and mother I met years ago at Penrhyn Park. I do not yet know when Neil will start for India; probably within a few weeks, and then I shall be very lonely. That God may bless you, my dear Bessie, and give you all the happiness you deserve, is the prayer of your affectionate uncle, "JOHN MCPHERSON."




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