“I am sorry if I seem rude,” said Bee, gathering herself together, “but--I don’t think that papa would like us to receive visitors.” “I am not a common visitor,” said Mrs. Leigh. “I hope you will do me the credit to think that it is with a very different feeling I come. I am very, very sorry for you, so young as you are--more sorry than I can say. And, Bee, if indeed I am to hope to be one day your mother--” Bee did not speak; but she fixed her blue eyes upon her visitor with a sort of entreaty to be left alone, and mournfully shook her head. “We can’t think just now of that name,” said little Betty, with the tears standing in her eyes. “My dear children, I came to try to comfort you, not to open your wounds. Dear,” she said, putting her hand on Bee’s shoulder, “you would not see Aubrey, nor let him have a word from you. But he said you had heard everything an evil woman could say, and did not give him up for that--and he is heart-broken. He thought perhaps you would tell me if he had done anything to displease you--or if it was only the effect of your grief, to which he would be submissive at once. All he wanted was to share your trouble, my dear child.” This was not at all what Mrs. Leigh intended to say. She had meant to represent her visit as one of sympathy solely, without at first referring to the hard case of Aubrey; but Bee’s looks had confused even this experienced woman. The girl’s pale face put on an expression of determined decision, or rather of that blank of resistance to entering upon the question, which is a kind of defence which it is almost impossible to break down. “I would rather, if you please, not say anything of Mr. Leigh.” “Dear child! Do not take that tone. If he has done anything that does not please you, how is he ever to clear himself if you will not tell him what it is.” “She is like this all the time,” cried Betty; “she will not say what is wrong--and yet she is just as miserable herself as anyone could be.” Bee gave her sister a look in which Mrs. Leigh, closely watching, saw the lightening of the glance, the brilliancy and splendour of the blue eyes of which Aubrey had raved. Poor little Betty was illuminated as if with a great flame. It was all that she could do to restrain a very inappropriate smile. “You know nothing, and how do you dare to say anything?” Bee said.