Presently Uncle Morris came in. He had been out all the morning. Seeing his niece so busy, he smiled, and said:
“Busy as the bee, eh, Jessie? Well, it’s the working bee that makes the honey. Guess the little wizard has lost heart now he has found out that my little puss has a strong will to do right, and a strong Friend to help her.”
Jessie blushed and sighed. She was in what young Duncan would call a “tight place.” She knew that her uncle was mistaken; that she did not deserve his praise, that by being silent she should, of her own accord, confirm his mistake and thereby deceive him. And yet, it was hard to confess her fault, under the circumstances. “What could Jessie do?”
At first she was silent. Her uncle perceiving by her manner that something puzzled and pained her, turned to his chair, and without saying another word took up the morning’s newspaper and began reading.
The longer Jessie kept up his false impression, the worse she felt. Very soon, however, the voice of the Good Spirit within her gained the victory, and throwing the slipper into the basket, she rose, saying to herself, “I will tell him all about it.”
Going to her uncle’s side, she threw an arm round his neck, gently drew his head towards her and kissed him. Then she smiled through a mist of tears, and said:
“Uncle, the little wizard hasn’t left Glen Morris, yet.”
“Hasn’t he?” replied her uncle. “Why, I thought you pricked him so sorely with your quilt needle that he had run off to Greenland, or to some other distant land to escape your little ladyship’s anger, or to woo Miss Perseverance to be his bride.”
“I wish he had,” sighed Jessie; “but I fear he never will go. I wish he didn’t like Glen Morris so well.”
Then the little girl told her uncle how Guy’s book had lured her into the wizard’s power.