"He bowed himself before me as if I were a queen; and to be rejected after all, it was very cruel!" she exclaimed, excitedly; "but what could I do? There was Mrs. Dennison—but no matter about her."
Jessie stopped suddenly, and a flame of crimson spread and glowed in her cheeks.
"You don't like Mrs. Dennison, Aunt Matty?" she said, after a moment's silence.
"No, I never did like her," was my prompt reply.
"She is a strange woman," said Jessie, thoughtfully; "so brilliant, so full of attractions, everybody is charmed with her at first sight. I was."
"And now?" I suggested.
She looked at me a moment, then smiled, a little bitterly, I thought, and said,—
"Who can help like—admiring her?"
Something was wrong in that quarter; I was sure of it. Two natures so opposite as those of our Jessie and Mrs. Dennison could not long harmonize under the same roof.
"Well," I said, smoothing the raven braids of Jessie's hair, "the worst is over now. Mr. Bosworth will think all the better of you for being truthful and honest; we shall have him for a friend still, never fear."