Then two heavy tears rolled from her eyes and broke up the reflection of the sad face below into little dancing circles.
An hour ago, as she stood in the garden grafting a rosebush, a neighbor rode up to the fence to say, "Good-day," and inquire after the health of the clergyman's family.
"You'll have company pretty soon, I'm thinking," he said, knowingly. "I suppose that's no news to you, though?"
"We expect no one," said Jessie, carelessly.
"It will be a pleasant surprise to you, then. I saw Mr. Wyllys at the hotel as I came by."
Jessie's knife swerved slightly as she made the incision in the bark, but her voice was firm.
"Are you sure?"
"Oh, yes! I talked with him. He got up late last night, he said. Come now, Miss Jessie; I am an old friend, which of you is he after?"
"Neither that I know of. Certainly not me!" replied she, imperturbably.
She finished her task carefully, when the inquisitor had passed; carried twine and scissors into the house; gave Patsey an order as she glanced into the kitchen, and, unobserved by the servant, left the dwelling and went down through the garden into the meadow.