Daisy wrote to her daughter from Liverpool where they were stopping at the Adelphi, and where Lord Hardy had joined them en route for America and the far West.
"He is not at all the Ted he used to be," Daisy wrote, "and it really seems as if he blames me because he has lost so much at Monte Carlo. In fact, he says if I had not smuggled him in, he should probably never have played there at all. I think I shall know it when I take another young Irishman in hand. By the way, he brought me news of the death of Sir Henry Trevellian, of Trevellian Castle, in the north of England He was thrown from his horse and killed instantly Jack Trevellian was with him, and, it is said, was nearly heart-broken, though by this accident he has become Sir Jack, and is master of a fine old place and a tolerably fair fortune. He will be much sought after now, but if ever he comes in your way again, and you play your cards well you may be my Lady Trevellian. How does that sound to you?"
"Sir Jack Trevellian," Bessie repeated to herself, while there swept over her a great pity for the poor young man, smitten down so suddenly, while for Jack she was glad, knowing how well he would fill the place and how worthy he was of it.
Of herself, as Lady Bessie Trevellian she never thought, though there came to her a strong presentiment that she should see Jack again ere long--that he would come to tell her of his new honor, and would he just as kind and friendly and familiar as he was that day in the park when she first saw him more than two years ago.
Three days later and there came another short letter from her mother, written on shipboard and sent off at Queenstown. The sea had been very rough and the Brownes and Lord Hardy were sick in their state-rooms, as were many of the passengers, but Daisy had never felt better in her life and was enjoying herself immensely. She should cable as soon as she reached New York, and she bade Bessie keep up good courage, and sent her love and a kiss to Archie, who, if Bessie thought best, might now be told where she had gone.
Archie was sleeping very quietly when Bessie went into his room, taking her mother's letter with her. But there was a white pinched look upon his face which she had never seen there before, and it seemed to her that his breath was growing shorter and more labored, as she watched him with a beating heart until she could no longer endure the fear which had seized upon her, and stooping down, she called aloud: "Father, father!"