The letter which Jess had received from Mrs. Bryson of Blackheath Hall on that memorable day on which she was to prepare for her journey to visit the Trevalyns--had contained another item that had troubled the young girl greatly. It ran as follows: “We were greatly surprised, and need I add, pleased, by an unexpected visit from your affianced husband. Mr. Dinsmore was greatly troubled, however, over the fact that you had been permitted to go away from the hall. “‘Mischief will come of it. A presentiment which I cannot shake off tells me so.’ He seems so downhearted over it that----Forgive me for breaking my promise to you, Jess. I thought it wisest and best to tell him where you had gone, to visit the Trevalyn family of New York. I also told him of the little incident which had intercepted your visit, and that you were on the farm of Lawyer Abbot’s brother-in-law, but were to start for New York with Lawyer Abbot the day after my letter reached you. “Still he did not seem to be thoroughly satisfied. He walked the length of the drawing-room up and down with knitted brows, his face haggard and anxious. “‘I repeat that I fear mischief will come of it,’ he declared. ‘Jess is a girl who has never been away from the seclusion of Blackheath Hall. She does not know the world of men and women beyond these confines. Ten to one she will as likely as not fall in love with some farmhand there, and marry him out of hand, or elope with him, or do something equally hoydenish. You know Jess is not like other girls.’ “To appease his annoyance, we agreed that he should meet you and Lawyer Abbot at the first junction the other side of Caldwell, and finish the journey with you.” It was little wonder, after reading that, that Jess had consented at once to wed the man of her own choice when he had asked her to do so, and made no demurrer when he declared the marriage must take place without delay--that marriage that seemed now almost like a dream to Jess as the train bore her quickly away from her newly made husband. Her thoughts were so confused she did not realize what she had said or done that he should get so angry with her on that homeward walk. It was the last drop in her cup of sorrow when he parted so coldly from her, without one good-by kiss, one tender word of farewell. Jess had watched the tall figure out of sight, and then gave way to the bitterest, most passionate weeping that her girlish eyes had ever known. But to return at this point to Ray Challoner, who was passing himself off so successfully as John Dinsmore, the heir prospective of Blackheath Hall. When he had returned to the hall from his hasty trip to New Orleans, it was with the full determination of pushing the marriage forward to a climax as quickly as possible. His rage knew no bounds when he learned that fate had served him so dastardly a trick as to send Jess away on a visit.