It is the perfect tune that lies Underneath all harmonies. The brook that sings in summertide Between the flowers on either side. It is that voiceless under part, That, still unheard, heart sings to heart. The interchange of thoughts that lie Too deep for louder melody. The breath that makes the lyre move With silent echoings of love. ISABELLA LAW. Bessie paid other short visits to old friends at this time. We hear of her with Miss Bathurst at Stanmore, and greatly interested in Miss Bathurst's most honoured friend, Lady Byron. She also stayed with Miss Butler, who remembers that one day when she was about to mount her horse Bessie stood stroking his legs, saying: "Surely this must be thorough-bred." Another time, as Bessie stood near him, the horse stretched out his head and took the rose she was wearing so gently from her dress that she did not know it until she was told that he was eating it. Bessie used to drive in a pony carriage with Miss Butler, and to puzzle her hostess by a request for a description of the scenery. On one occasion a gentleman who had become recently blind was asked to meet Bessie at Stanmore. It was very touching to see her sit by the blind man's side, take his hand and try to encourage and comfort him. Work for others, help for others; these were the things she told him that would make life worth living, and her own ardour was able to inspire him as well as others with hope and energy. FOOTNOTES: [7] _Town and Country Sermons_; 18. "Character of Peter." [8] Page 8. CHAPTER XV TIME OF TROUBLE "Good times and bad times and all times pass over." BEWICK'S VIGNETTES. Bishop Gilbert's family circle was fast diminishing. His eldest son and four daughters were married. The _sisterhood_ was broken up. Numerous home duties at Chichester and in London, together with the care of parents whose health was beginning to fail, engrossed the time and thought of the daughters at home. Bessie still received sympathy and assistance, but she lived a very independent life, and relied more and more upon the services of a confidential maid, who wrote her letters, made the entries in diary, note-book, and journal, from which we have taken extracts, and accompanied her wherever she went. Her entire absorption in the work of the Institution could not fail to become a source of isolation; and it began to cause anxiety to parents and friends. They knew her delicacy and the need in which she stood of constant watchful care, and they followed her with apprehension as she sailed out into the ocean of labour and endeavour. Some remonstrances from old and dear friends reached her, and the faithful Frauelein D. wrote as follows: