“But has it ended?” asked his companion, anxiously. “I shall always be looking for something to happen to prevent it, until the girl actually stands at the altar. Even then she is as likely as not to back out. Jess does not realize the value of money, nor the fortune which hangs in the balance, or what its loss would mean to her. All that she is thinking about is that she does not love the man she is so soon to marry. I repeat--how will it end?” CHAPTER XIX. THE BETROTHAL. “It is not much the world can give, With all its subtle art; And gold and gems are not the thing To satisfy the heart. But gentle words and a loving heart, And hands to clasp my own, Are better than the fairest flowers Or stars that ever shone.” For the next few days there was great bustle and excitement at Blackheath Hall over the expected departure of Jess. “She might as well begin her preparations at once,” Lawyer Abbot had said, as he left, “for I feel sure there will be no doubt as to the Trevalyn family receiving her. I will write at once, and have a reply to that effect in the course of two or three days. In the meantime, Jess can make her preparations to be ready to start on the next northern-bound express after I have heard from my old friend.” 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.