Miss Perkins accepted the offer with unusual gratitude. It had often been a trouble to her to think of Jessie's future, since the girl might or might not marry, and her own little income would die with herself. Here would be a means of self-support provided, if only Jessie would take to it.
To Miss Perkins' surprise, Jessie did take to it. Though not fond of strictly plain work, she loved pretty things; and she was soon found to have good taste in this new direction. The scheme seemed to be a hopeful one.
"Still, I should like to know what is wrong with Jessie," Mildred sometimes said to herself. The gossip about Jack and Jessie had never reached her ears.
So passed several weeks, and the time of blackberrying had come round. Jack had been thinking much of Jessie, and a new idea had entered his mind.
What if there should be some mistake as to her state of feeling towards him? Was it wise of him, was it even right of him, to make up his mind, without really knowing it, that she had turned against him? It did not sound like the Jessie whom he knew. Could Miss Sophy Coxen be so entirely relied upon, that all hope for him was at an end?
The wonder was that Jack had not taken this view of the question a great deal sooner. He came to it now, gradually and with a good deal of slow thinking, and at length he resolved that, on the very first opportunity, he would put matters to the test. If she cared for him no longer, if she had grown too grand to think of him, she should at least say so plainly herself. Like a sensible man, Jack was no longer going to be managed by other folks' chit-chat.
He went one day about this time for a ramble through some fields, as he often liked to do. He was all right again now, able to enjoy rapid walking without so much as a twinge in the leg which had been broken. As he went along at a good pace, he thought continuously of Jessie, debating how he should manage to get hold of her, so as to come to an explanation.
For weeks the two had scarcely spoken, the one to the other; but an interview now was necessary, if only to settle Jack's mind. It might be that a mistake had divided them, and in that case the sooner it was laid bare the better. If not, the sooner Jack knew what lay before him, the better also.
He stopped to pick and eat some fine blackberries, and noting a small branch, heavily laden with ripe fruit, he carefully severed it with his penknife—the idea of somehow presenting it to Jessie having come up. Then he shut his penknife, put it away, jumped the next stile, and found himself face to face with Jessie herself.
One little "Oh!" escaped her lips, and her face flushed. Before she could turn away, Jack was offering the blackberry branch.