A week passed, and during that time he was thrown constantly into the companionship of Jess.
To him she was nothing more than an innocent, young girl, a very happy, thoughtless child; one who would grow, perhaps, in the years to come, into a very interesting woman. Further than that, his thoughts regarding Jess never traveled.
He remained at the farm simply because the cause which would have taken him down to Louisiana—to see this selfsame little Jess—was now removed.
He had now no need to go to the mountain, as it were, for the mountain had come to him.
He wondered idly at the interest the girl seemed to take in his society, with never a thought as to whether he was rich or poor. But, then, she was very young; all such worldly knowledge as to the importance of making a good match—that is, marrying a man who had money—would come to her later.
And at the thought a bitter smile curved his lips, a smile accompanied by a heavy sigh.
CHAPTER XXIII.
VAIN REGRETS.
“Ah, they know not heart
Of man or woman who declare
That love needs time to do or dare.