Early in March, Mr. Frederick Fairfax wrote home that his Russian tour was accomplished, and that he was impatient to be on board his yacht again. The weather was exceedingly rough and tempestuous later in the month, and the squire, watching the wrack of the storm on the wolds, often expressed anxiety lest his son should be rash and venturesome enough to trust himself out of port in such weather. Everybody was relieved when April opened with sunny showers and the long and severe winter seemed to be at an end. It had not made Bessie more in love with her life at Abbotsmead: there had, indeed, been times of inexpressible dreariness in it very trying to her fortitude. With the dawning of brighter days in spring she could not but think of the Forest with fresh longing, and she watched each morning's post for the arrival of that invitation to Fairfield which Lady Latimer had promised to send. At length it came, and after brief demur received a favorable answer. The squire had a mortified consciousness that his granddaughter's life was not very cheerful, and, though he did not refuse her wish, he was unable to grant it heartily. However, the fact of his consent overcame the manner of it, and Bessie was enjoying the pleasures of anticipation, and writing ecstatically to her mother, when an event happened that threw Abbotsmead into mourning and changed the bent even of her desires. One chilly evening after dinner, when she had retreated to the octagon parlor, and was dreaming by the fireside in the dusk alone, Jonquil, with visage white as a ghost, ushered in Mr. John Short. He had walked over from Mitford Junction, in the absence of any vehicle to bring him on, and was jaded and depressed, though with an air of forced composure. As Jonquil withdrew to seek his master the lawyer advanced into the firelight, and Bessie saw at once that he came on some sad errand. Her grandfather had gone, she believed, to look after his favorite hunter, which had met with a severe sprain a week ago; but she was not sure, for he had been more and more restless for some time past, had taken to walking at unaccustomed hours, to neglecting his correspondence, leaving letters for days unopened, and betraying various other signs of a mind unsettled and disturbed. It had appeared to Bessie that he was always in a state of distressed expectancy, but what for she had no idea. The appearance of Mr. John Short without previous notice suggested new vexation connected with the lawsuit, but when she asked if he were again the messenger of bad news, he startled her with a much more tragical announcement. "I am sorry to say that I am, Miss Fairfax. Mr. Frederick has not lived much at home of late years, but I fear that it will be a terrible shock to his father to hear that he is lost," said Mr. John Short. "Lost!" echoed Bessie. "Lost! Oh where? Poor grandpapa!"