These strong resolutions arising out of that letter from the Forest exhilarated Bessie exceedingly. There was perhaps more guile in her than was manifest on slight acquaintance, but it was the guile of a wise, warm heart. All trace of emotion had passed away when she came down stairs, and when her grandfather, assisting her into the carriage, squeezed her fingers confidentially, her new, all-pervading sense of happiness was confirmed and established. And the courage that happiness inspires was hers too. At Mitford Junction, Colonel and Mrs. Stokes and Mr. Oliver Smith joined their party, and they travelled to Norminster together. The old city was going quietly about its business much as usual when they drove through the streets to the "George," where Mr. Cecil Burleigh was to meet his committee and address the electors out of the big middle bow-window. Miss Jocund's shop was nearly opposite to the inn, and thither the ladies at once adjourned, that Bessie might assume her blue bonnet. The others were already handsomely provided. Miss Jocund was quite at liberty to attend to them at this early hour of the day--her "gentleman" had not come in yet--and she conducted them to her show-room over the shop with the complacent alacrity of a milliner confident that she is about to give supreme satisfaction. And indeed Mrs. Stokes cried out with rapture, the instant the bonnet filled her eye, that it was "A sweet little bonnet--blue crape and white marabouts!" Bessie smiled most becomingly as it was tried on, and blushed at herself in the glass. "But a shower of rain will spoil it," she objected, nodding the downy white feathers that topped the brim. She was proceeding philosophically to tie the glossy broad strings in a bow under her round chin when Miss Jocund stepped hastily to the rescue, and Mrs. Betts entered with a curtsey, and a blue silk slip on her arm. "What next?" Bessie demanded of the waiting-woman in rosy consternation. "I am afraid we must trouble you, Miss Fairfax, but not much, I hope," insinuated Miss Jocund with a queer, deprecating humility. "There is a good half hour to spare. Since Eve put on a little cool foliage, female dress has developed so extensively that it is necessary to try some ladies on six times to avoid a misfit. But your figure is perfectly proportioned, and I resolved, for once, to chance it on my knowledge of anatomy, supplemented by an embroidered dress from your wardrobe. If you _will_ be _so_ kind: a stitch here and a stitch there, and my delightful duty is accomplished." Miss Jocund's speeches had always a touch of mockery, and Bessie, being in excellent spirits, laughed good-humoredly, but denied her request. "No, no," said she, "I will not be so kind. Your lovely blue bonnet would be thrown away if I did not look pleasant under it, and how could I look pleasant after the painful ordeal of trying on?"