'No, my dear,' replied my mother; 'no one is, I am sure. I hope you enjoyed yourself.'
'I always do,' said Jessie, her face clouding, when I go to the Wests. Has anything disagreeable occurred?'
'No, Jessie, nothing.'
Jessie had a habit of shaking her head at herself when she was not satisfied with things; it was the slightest motion in the world, but there was much meaning in it. On the present occasion it expressed to me very plainly, 'I know that you have been talking of me, and that I have done something wrong which I am not to be told of.' My mother understood it also, for with expressive tenderness she assisted Jessie to take off her bonnet and mantle, and smoothed Jessie's hair in fond admiration. I could have embraced my mother for those marks of affection towards Jessie; they were an answer to uncle Bryan's unjust words.
'I think,' said Jessie, looking into my mother's face, that you are fond of me.'
'My dear,' responded my mother, kissing her, 'I regard you almost as my daughter.'
'I like to be loved,' murmured Jessie, almost wistfully, with tender looks at my mother, and keeping close to her as if for shelter from unkindness.
'Which would you rather have, Jessie,' I asked most suddenly, 'love or money?'
Heaven only knows how the words came to my tongue! They certainly were not the result of deliberate thought. Perhaps it was because of some unconscious connection between the words Jessie had just spoken and those which she had spoken to me a little time before: 'Chris, I think I would do anything in the world for money.' The words were often in my mind, or perhaps they were prompted by an episode in the story I had just heard. Uncle Bryan's keen eyes were turned upon Jessie immediately the question passed my lips, and his scrutiny did not escape Jessie's observation.
'Ask me again, Chris,' she said, with a sudden colour in her cheeks.