"Yes; she is uneasy about her. Shall I play to you a little, Mr. Sefton? It is getting too dark to read." Bessie made this overture as a sort of amends to Richard, and the friendly little act seemed to soothe him. "You are very kind. I should like it of all things," he returned gratefully. So Bessie sat down and played her simple tunes and sung her little songs until the young man's perturbed spirits were calmed and quieted by the pure tones of the girlish voice; and presently when she paused for a minute, he said: "It is awfully good of you to take all this trouble for me." "Oh, no, it is not," replied Bessie, smiling. "I like singing; besides, you are feeling dull this evening; your talk with your sister has upset you." "No one ever noticed before if I were dull or not," he replied, with a sigh; "but I am afraid that sounds ungracious. I think we owe you an apology, Miss Lambert, for airing our family disagreements in your presence. I am more sorry than I can say that you should have been subjected to this unpleasantness." "Oh, never mind me," returned Bessie cheerfully. "I am only sorry for all of you. I dare say Edna did not mean half she said; people say all sorts of things when they are angry. I am afraid she is bitterly disappointed. I have heard her say before how fond she is of watching polo; but I dare say she will soon forget all about it." "I cannot flatter myself with that belief. Edna does not so easily forget when her whims are crossed. I dare say she will send me to Coventry all the week; but I can't help that. Nothing would induce me to drive her over to Staplehurst, and she will hardly carry out her threat of going without me." "Of course not," and Bessie fairly laughed. "No, it was an idle threat; but all the same it is very vexatious." But Bessie would not let him dwell on the grievance. She began telling him about Tom, and a funny scrape he had got into last term; and this led to a conversation about her home, and here Bessie grew eloquent; and she was in the midst of a description of Cliffe and its environs when Mrs. Sefton reappeared, looking fagged and weary, and informed them that Edna had a headache and had retired to bed. CHAPTER XII. THE FIRST SUNDAY AT THE GRANGE. The unfortunate dispute between Edna and her brother had taken place on Saturday evening, and as Bessie went up to her room that night she made up her mind that the first Sunday at Oatlands would be a failure, as far as enjoyment was concerned.