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Updated: May 16, 2025
She turned from the table and passed out of the room. Ailsa Mowbray raised a pair of handsome, troubled eyes to the factor's face. Her confidence in this man was second only to the confidence she had always had in her husband's judgment. "Do you think it wise?" she demurred. "It's the only thing, ma'am," Murray replied seriously. "Jessie's dead right."
Her words and manner, it was plain from Jessie's countenance, were felt as a rebuke. In a few moments the breakfast bell was heard, and the family went down to the morning meal, which had been delayed full half an hour beyond the usual time. "Had you a pleasant time last evening?" inquired Mrs.
Sarah flew to defend herself, and incidentally to establish more firmly her reputation as the bad-tempered member of the household, and in the war of words which ensued Jessie's embarrassment was forgotten. Mrs. Hamilton sat and stitched placidly through the altercation, breaking in at last to ask if Mrs. Fraser had said Duncan Polite could eat anything.
Although every precaution was taken to keep the news of Jessie's disappearance from Hubert Varrick, the knowledge soon reached him. "My God! did I not have enough to bear before," he murmured, "that this new weight of woe has fallen upon me?" In his sorrow he was thankful that at least one person besides his mother seemed to believe so utterly in his innocence and that was the butler.
An' he gets a letter back every week, too, with a big chunk of red wax on it, an' some kind of a business stamped on; jist stylish folks uses that kind. So I guess you girls had better quit playin' organs an' doin' things for him!" Jessie's face flushed crimson. "I don't see what difference that would make, 'Liza," she said with a steady look from her deep grey eyes.
"I do not know of any reason why I should keep anything from you, mother," he said. "This letter is Jessie's acceptance." A grayish pallor stole over Mrs. Varrick's face. Even in death for she supposed herself to be dying the ruling passion that had taken possession of her life, was still strong within her.
The dull, dead expression of the eyes sent a chill through Jessie's frame, and hurrying to the house she cried: "Oh, Brother Guy, somebody's dead in the office, and her bonnet is all jammed!"
Still Dick had not, as he supposed, gained her confidence. His frequent visits were, as might have been expected, noticed by Jessie's neighbours, and Dame Judson looked in one morning on purpose to tell her of the remarks she had heard, and to give her advice on the subject. She concluded by saying, "If you think that he is worthy of you, my dear, which I don't, why, there is nothing to say.
But I shall see Maggie nearly every day, and Nan that is Jessie's nurse will mend my clothes. The primroses have been quite lovely. It will be all withered when it has been through the Red Sea, and will have no smell, but I send you one all the same. Mother, you forgot to tell me what English flowers were like they are beautiful.
"They never would think that about you, Molly," whispered Nance, and promptly had announced her candidate and the nomination was immediately seconded. Then Molly shot up blushingly and nominated Margaret Wakefield, almost taking the words out of Jessie's mouth. Margaret smiled at her rather shamefacedly, knowing full well that she would not have nominated Molly for that coveted office.
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