Bessie's lips repeated, "Stay," and Harry not unthankfully entered the house. He dropt into a great easy-chair and put up one hand to cover his eyes, and so continued for several minutes. Lady Latimer stood an instant looking at him with a pitiful, scared gaze, and then, avoiding Bessie's face, she turned and left the lovers together. Bessie laid her hand on Harry's shoulder and spoke kindly to him: he was tired, the atmosphere was very close and took away his strength. After a while he recovered himself and said something about Christie's friendliness, and perhaps if _he_ illustrated the story they should see reminiscences of the manor-garden and of Great-Ash Ford, and other favorite spots in the Forest. They did not talk much or eagerly at all, but Christie's commendation of the sad pretty story of true love was a distinct pleasure to them both, and especially to Harry. His mother had begged him to stop at home and let the letter be sent over to Fairfield, but he wanted the gratification of telling Bessie his news himself; and the ride in the hot, airless weather had been too fatiguing. Bessie took up a piece of work and sat by the window, silent, soothing. He turned his chair to face her, and from his position he had a distant view of the sea--a dark blue line on the horizon. He had been fond of the sea and of boats from his first school-days at Hampton, and as he contemplated its great remote calm a longing to be out upon it took possession of him, which he immediately confessed to Bessie. Bessie did not think he need long in vain for that--it was easy of accomplishment. He said yes--Ryde was not far, and a Ryde wherry was a capital craft for sailing. Just as he was speaking Lady Latimer came back bringing some delicious fruit for Harry's refreshment. "What is that you are saying about Ryde?" she inquired quickly. "I am going to Ryde for a week or two, and as I shall take Elizabeth with me, you can come to us there, Mr. Musgrave, and enjoy the salt breezes. It is very relaxing in the Forest at this season."