She had no time to answer him; indeed, she could not, for her poor little heart was almost bursting with grief at the thought of parting from him. It seemed to Jess that in leaving him she would leave all the brightness and joy of her young life behind her and go forth into rayless darkness and woe. “Where have you two been?” cried Lucy, looking anxiously from the one to the other; “my uncle, Lawyer Abbot, is here, and he is very much afraid you will cause him to miss his train.” “I am sure the rich and elegant Mr. Moore has not been making love to her, or her face would never wear that woe-begone expression,” thought the clever Lucy, and her spirits arose high at the anticipation of Jess’ departure, which was now only a few moments distant, which would give her Mr. Moore all to herself, and she mentally resolved that no other pretty young girl should come visiting her while he was beneath that roof. To the girl who had just been made a bride, and was bound by a solemn promise that the marriage should be kept secret, the parting from her handsome husband who was bidding her good-by so calmly was like tearing her living, beating heart in twain. It was not until the carriage rolled away and the tall sycamore trees screened him from her sight as he waved an indifferent adieu to her from the porch that Jess broke down utterly, weeping as though her young heart was broken. “Are you indeed so sorry to leave Lucy Caldwell?” asked the old lawyer, in wonderment, adding, “dear me, in what a short time young girls learn to care for each other, it would appear. Three weeks ago you did not know that there was such a girl as Lucy on the face of the globe, now you are crying your eyes out at leaving her. Brace up, little Jess, Lucy shall pay a visit to the Trevalyns along with you, if I can arrange matters. So be comforted, child, that promise will make you happy, I know.” But, despite this assurance, little Jess still continued to weep on, refusing to be comforted. It was well for her that he did not divine the cause of her tears. The parting to the newly wedded husband was of little consequence; he felt that he had accomplished the duty his dead uncle had imposed upon him, of marrying the girl that she might inherit the Dinsmore millions--that was all there was of it. He would have been amazed had any one even hinted at the possibility that the girl he had just wedded cared for him, loved him with all the passionate strength of her young heart, and that it would take two to sever the bonds which bound them together. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE DARKENING CLOUDS. “Ah, cruel as the grave, Go, go, and come no more! But canst thou set my heart Just where it was before? Go, go, and come no more! Go, leave me with my tears, The only gift of thine Which shall outlive the years.”