His altars wait—not day nor name—
Only the touch of sacred flame.”
The week which follows the advent of Jess to the old farmhouse Mr. Moore will never forget. It is a changed place.
Lucy Caldwell, the farmer’s daughter, is a quiet girl, quite as ladylike as many a city-bred, boarding-school miss. But Jess is decidedly the reverse.
She bounds up and down the carpetless stairs, three steps at a time, whistles ear-splitting snatches of coon songs, as she describes them to Lucy, bangs doors and romps about to her heart’s content, all of which indicates that she is perfectly happy. She is so content in the old farmhouse that she does not care if the Trevalyns never return to their home. She could stay at the farm forever; yes, forever.
She does not realize, child that she is, what causes her exuberance of spirits, what is it that makes her so wondrously joyous and contented. She only realizes that every hour of her life is filled with a new, sweet pleasure—the pleasure of being so much in the company of Mr. Moore.
Jess’ first thought in the morning, upon waking, is of him, and her last thought at night, until she trails off into deep, healthful slumber, is of the handsome, kingly man who makes the days pass so delightfully for her.
Mrs. Caldwell and her daughter note with alarm Jess’ fondness for Mr. Moore’s society, and comment on it in no kindly manner.
“She behaves most outrageously for an engaged girl,” declared Lucy. “Her betrothed ought to know how she is flirting with another man when out of his sight, and Mr. Moore ought to be advised that she is not fancy free. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! why did I allow myself to become pledged to silence in regard to the matter? But for that I could tell him. She cares so little for her fiancé that she has not even written him a line since she has been here—which is quite a week now. Why, every other young girl who is engaged, and who is away from the man she is to marry, writes to him every day of her life, I am sure. I know that is the way that I should do.” Lucy even ventured to drop a hint to Jess regarding this matter, and she never forgot the effect which it produced upon her, to the last day of her life.
They were standing together out on the porch. Jess was watching eagerly down the road, in the direction Mr. Moore was sauntering, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her eyes full of a bright light which Lucy had not seen there before.