"Dear me! Aunt Matty!" exclaimed Jessie; "how tired and pale you look! I never saw you so overcome!"
"It is nothing. I walked faster than I ought, perhaps."
"That is not all," she answered; "I am sure something troubles you."
"So there does!" I said,—"very greatly!"
"Can I help you? You know how gladly I will do it."
She began untying my bonnet-strings, drawing off my shawl, and performing every little office possible to show her solicitude.
Generally, I dislike to have anybody touch me, or assist me in any way; but it was always a pleasure to feel Jessie's fingers smoothing my hair, or arranging my collar; and just then her assiduity quieted me more than anything else could have done.
"Did you take a long walk?" Jessie asked, apparently anxious to turn my thoughts from the painful theme upon which she supposed them to be dwelling.
"Yes, very long, Jessie; I have been over to old Mrs. Bosworth's."
She looked at me in astonishment.