Bessie fixed her eyes upon her sister, and Mrs. Westgate thought for a moment there were tears in them. "Do they talk that way here?" she asked.
"You will see. I shall leave you alone."
"Don't leave me alone," said Bessie Alden. "Take me away,"
"No; I want to see what you make of it," her sister continued.
"I don't understand."
"You will understand after Lord Lambeth has come," said Mrs. Westgate, with a little laugh.
The two ladies had arranged that on this afternoon Willie Woodley should go with them to Hyde Park, where Bessie Alden expected to derive much entertainment from sitting on a little green chair, under the great trees, beside Rotten Row. The want of a suitable escort had hitherto rendered this pleasure inaccessible; but no escort now, for such an expedition, could have been more suitable than their devoted young countryman, whose mission in life, it might almost be said, was to find chairs for ladies, and who appeared on the stroke of half past five with a white camellia in his button-hole.
"I have written to Lord Lambeth, my dear," said Mrs, Westgate to her sister, on coming into
