When my lady was gone, Bessie grieved and vexed herself with compunctious thoughts. But that was not my lady's last visit; she came over with Miss Charlotte another afternoon when Mr. Fairfax was gone to Norminster, and on this occasion she behaved with the gracious sweetness that had fascinated her young admirer in former days. Bessie said she was like herself again. At my lady's request Bessie took her up to the white parlor. On the threshold she stopped a full minute, gazing in: nothing of its general aspect was changed since she saw it last--how long ago! She went straight to the old bookcase, and took down one of Dorothy Fairfax's manuscript volumes and furled over the leaves. Miss Charlotte drew Bessie to the window and engaged her in admiration of the prospect, to leave her sister undisturbed. Presently my lady said, "Charlotte, do you remember these old books of Dorothy's?" and Miss Charlotte went and looked over the page. "Oh yes. Dear Dorothy had such a pretty taste--she always knew when a sentiment was nicely put. She was a great lover of the old writers." After a few minutes of silent reading my lady spoke again: "She once recited to me some verses of George Herbert's--of when God at first made man, how He gave him strength, beauty, wisdom, honor, pleasure, all to keep, but with repining restlessness. They were a prophecy. I cannot find them." She restored the volume to its shelf, quoting the last lines--all she remembered distinctly: "Let him be rich and weary, that at last, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to my breast." "I know; they are in the last volume, toward the end," said Bessie Fairfax, and quickly found them. "They do not say that God gave man love; and that is a craving too. Don't you think so?" Lady Latimer looked straight before her out of the window with lips compressed. "What do you mean by love, my dear?--so many foolish feelings go by that name," said Miss Charlotte, filling the pause. "Oh, I mean just love--the warm, happy feeling in my heart toward everybody who belongs to me or is good to me--to my father and mother and all of them at home, and to my grandfather now and my uncle Laurence, and more besides." "You are an affectionate soul!" said my lady, contemplating her quietly. "You were born loving and tender--" "Like dear Dorothy," added Miss Charlotte with a sigh. "It is a great treasure, a warm heart."