Poor Bessie's grief was selfishly shown, but
it was genuine grief all the same.
"Discipline will be the best thing in the world for him," the boarder
promised. "A friend of mine who also went to the b---- who also enlisted,
for certain reasons, is an officer now."
"Bernard will have no luck," Bessie declared. "No luck ever comes our
way."
"There's no good waiting for luck, Miss Bessie--"
"Will Mr. Boult buy him off?" the widow interrupted. No argument weighed
with her. She listened to no attempt at comfort. "I must go to Mr. Boult
at once, and ask him to do it."
"If you take my advice, you won't, ma'am. If you ask him ever so, he
won't."
"I will beg him, on my knees," the poor lady said.
Deleah followed Gibbon to the landing. "Is there anything you are keeping
back?" she whispered to him. "You can tell me. I am not Bessie."
"The boy's been a fool--but there's nothing that can't be hushed up."
Her eyes full of fear clung to his face; she was determined to hear the
worst. "You must tell me," she persisted.
"A couple of bills were paid over the counter; only for small amounts.
Your brother did not--did not--"
"You mean he took the money for himself?"
How white her face was! The sound of Bessie's sighs and moans came from
the sitting-room.
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