However, the good Bess found no fault with his loving preoccupation; she, too, was pensively thinking on poor Dorothy, and at once abandoned the invalid flower to console and counsel Richard.
"For you see," quoth Bess, as though a call had been made for the reason of her interest in another's love troubles, "I feel responsible for Dorothy.

It was I who told you to love her." This was not quite true, and gave too much blame or credit--whichever you will--to Bess; but Richard made no objections, and permitted Bess to define her position as best pleased her.
Bess laid out Richard's programme as though she were his mother or his guardian; she told him what his conduct should be.

He must write Dorothy a daily letter; there ought to be a world of love in it, Bess thought, in view of those conditions of present distress which surrounded Dorothy.
"Her lot," observed Bess, "is much harder than yours, you know!" Richard, being selfish, did not know; but he was for no dispute with Bess and kept his want of knowledge to himself.

Yes; Richard was to write Dorothy every day; and she, for her sweet part, was likewise to write Richard every day.

The good Bess, like an angel turned postman, would manage the exchange of tender missives.
Bess said nothing about Storri's coming visits to the Harley house or that he would insist on seeing Dorothy.