At last, alarmed by the pallor of his face, and the tired, listless
manner, so unlike himself, Lucy suggested that they go home, and to this
Grey readily assented. But first he must see Bessie's grave, and at
London he left his aunt in charge of some friends who were going home in
the same ship and would see her to Liverpool. He was going to Wales on
business, he said, and as she knew he had been there two or three times
before, Lucy asked no questions, and had no suspicion of the nature of
the business which took him first to Carnarvon, where a last fruitless
search was made for Elizabeth Rogers or some of her kin, and then to
Stoneleigh, which he reached on an early morning train, the same which
took Bessie to Liverpool! Thus near do the wheels of fate oftentimes
come to each other.
In her hurry to secure a compartment, Bessie did not see the young man
alighting from a carriage only the fourth from the one she was entering,
and as both Anthony and Dorothy, who were at the station with her, went
across the bridge to do some errands before returning home, no one
observed Grey as he hurried along the road to Stoneleigh, and entering
the grounds, stood at last by the new grave in the corner close to the
fence, where he believed Bessie was lying.
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