Accordingly, Mrs. Bryson went at once to the nearest town and purchased all that was needful for the journey, opening her purse-strings so far as to procure a creditable outfit for the girl. She was determined that Jess should not look like a veritable dowdy before the New York people, whom Lawyer Abbot assured her were millionaires.
But, alas for hopes which are perched too high! Quite as soon as the mail could bring it, a reply was received from Lawyer Trevalyn, saying that his wife and daughter, Queenie, were away from home, and would not return for a month, possibly not for six weeks, later; and at that time he would be more than pleased to receive as his guest the young girl of whom his friend had written to him.
Jess’ disappointment was intense when the lawyer brought the letter over to Blackheath Hall and made known its contents to them.
“I ought to have known how it would be,” sobbed Jess, throwing herself downward, face forward, on the carpet, and weeping as though her heart would break.
“My dear child, don’t do that!” exclaimed Mr. Abbot, nervously. “You try my nerves terribly—you do, indeed. Stop that crying, and we will see if we cannot discover some loophole out of the difficulty. I have it!” he cried, in the next breath. “I wonder that it did not occur to me before. I have a brother, a farmer, living at the junction of the roads a little over a hundred miles north of here. He has a daughter, Lucy, and you can go there, if you like, and pass the time until the Trevalyns, of New York, are home, and ready to receive you. It will be exchanging one farm, as it were, for another. Still, it will be a little change.”
Jess dried her eyes at once.
“I don’t like a farm,” she declared, ruefully. “Still, anything will be better than humdrum life at Blackheath Hall.”
“I need not accompany you there, my dear child, as I would have done had you gone on to New York. I can simply place you in charge of the conductor, whom I know quite well. My letter, explaining matters, will have arrived a few hours in advance, and they will be down to the station to meet you. Will that arrangement meet with your approval, little Jess?”
“Yes, sir,” responded the girl, quickly, smiling up at him like a rift of April sunshine through her tears.
“I am glad that we have found a way out of the dilemma,” he said, heaving a sigh of relief, for the care of Jess, who was so suddenly thrust upon his guardianship, was a sore trial to him.