The mistake of years could not be rectified in a day. Mrs. Bryson realized that, and felt, in consequence, deep concern. For the first time in her life, after the lawyer’s visit, she searched for Jess. Through the house and over all the grounds she went, but there were no signs of her. Jess was like a wild bird ever on the wing; no one knew where she was likely to alight. Mrs. Bryson was most anxious to have a long and earnest talk with the girl. It never occurred to her for a moment that the girl was evading her for that very reason--that she had heard her tell the lawyer that she meant to have a long and serious talk at once with Jess--but from that hour Jess was nowhere to be found. It never occurred to the good woman to look up into the magnolia trees which she passed a score of times in her vain search for the girl. The letter which was received at Blackheath Hall, announcing that the heir would soon arrive there, put Mrs. Bryson in a great state of trepidation. Jess must be found, told the truth and be made to realize that she was to appear before the strange gentleman who was coming, as a young girl of refinement--not a wild, barefooted savage who would not only shock, but horrify him, and shatter at once his uncle’s plans of marriage between them. Clothes would have to be made in a hurry, and lessons given her in deportment; and she would have to be made to understand that her sweetness of demeanor, her behavior and conversational powers would mean wealth or beggary to her. Every member of the household was sent out in search of the girl, but it was all to no purpose. Not one of them once dreamed that Jess, up in the tree, was fairly convulsed with laughter at the annoyance she was causing them. She knew their plans, for she heard them discuss them freely as they hurried along, and then and there she determined that she would not take a single step out of her way to please the fastidious heir of Blackheath Hall. It was a matter of little concern to the girl whether he liked her or not. CHAPTER XI. REBUKED BY A GIRL. At this critical point of our story it is necessary that we should return for a brief space to Raymond Challoner, whom we left still at Newport, though the Ocean House was just about closing for the season. He had not put in an appearance when Queenie Trevalyn and her mother drove to the depot--not even to say good-by to the girl to whom he had been such a devoted lover for the whole season. With the loss of her fortune his interest waned. He did not get up from his comfortable chair as the hotel ’bus whirled past the door, with the girl and her mother as passengers, to take even a last look at the beauty of the season. “Good-by, sweetheart, good-by!” he murmured, with a grim laugh, as he lighted a fresh Havana--then he proceeded forthwith to forget the Queenie Trevalyn romance and to look forward to conquests in pastures new.