He looked rather eagerly for the second figure in the old carryall to step forth, as he advanced. He was thinking of the letter which he had received from his little Jess when he was at Newport, in which she had described herself, and he wondered vaguely if the description she gave him was true or false. He paused for an instant as he beheld the lithe, slender, girlish figure seated within. He could not see her features, for, contrary to his expectations, her face was concealed by a heavy veil. Like her companion, she sprang from the carriage ere he could take another step forward to proffer his assistance. “A society girl and belle,” he muttered, frowning darkly as his quick glance took in every detail of her stylish traveling dress. “Now, why under heaven did she give me such a false description of herself in that letter she wrote me?” “I want to introduce you to Mr. Moore, Jess,” said Lucy, catching her by the arm. A little, brown hand swept aside the heavy folds of tulle that covered the girl’s face, and then Jess, with the same face as the picture he had received from her, stood before him. He knew that she had not misrepresented her character in her letter, when, the next instant, the little, brown, warm hand was extended to him in greeting, and she said, eagerly: “I know all about you and your awful mishap, Mr. Moore, and I am quite as glad as Lucy is that you are getting well.” The impulsive action, and the straightforward words that accompanied it, softened his heart in a measure toward her, although she was of the sex whom he had sworn to himself that he should evermore detest with the deadliest of hatred. “You are very kind, Miss--Miss----” he returned, with a low bow, raising his hat with a gallantry which surprised Lucy, who was looking on a little jealously, as she wondered if Mr. Moore thought the stranger pretty. “Your sympathy is very pleasing, believe me,” he added, continuing: “I suppose we cannot shuffle off this mortal coil, no matter what good opportunities seem to be thrown in our way, until our time comes; at least, it would seem so in my case, Miss--Miss----” “My name is simply Jess--nothing more,” said the girl, looking up into his face with just the faintest suspicion of tears in her big, dark eyes. “When names were given out, whoever was responsible for the giving of them in my case, passed me by, it appears, either by accident or design, so ever afterward I was known by the simple cognomen of Jess--just Jess.” Somehow, as he looked into the lovely, young face, his resentment against one of the sex which he had sworn to hate seemed to be melting away, although he would have scoffed at the idea had any one told him that an interest had sprung up in his heart toward the girl in the first moment they had met. “Come,” said Lucy, “we will go to the house. We can talk afterward. Mother and dinner await us.”