'It is, my dear. I scarcely believed her capable of so much gentleness and submission.' (Here I thought to myself, 'I believe no one but I knows of what Jessie is capable.') 'When your uncle is most trying----' 'As he often is,' I interrupted, 'and without cause.' 'Well, my dear, if you will have it so. When he is most trying, she is most gentle, and she wins him to her side almost despite himself. And, Chris, I really think he likes it.' 'Who would not,' I exclaimed, 'when wooed by Jessie?' 'It is in her power,' said my mother, with a sweet smile of acquiescence, 'to make a great change in him. There is an undercurrent of deep tenderness in your uncle's nature, and Jessie is reaching it by the most delicate means. If she will only have patience! for it will take time, my dear.' But these fair appearances were treacherous. Neither my mother nor I saw the clouds that were gathering, and when the storm burst I was impressed by the unhappy conviction that I, and I alone, was the cause. How little do we know of the power of light words lightly spoken! But for certain inconsiderate words which I had used, there would certainly have been sunshine in our house for a much longer time. As it was, this better aspect of things was destined soon to come to an end, and to come to an end in a way which introduced not only a more bitter discord between Jessie and uncle Bryan, but imbued us insidiously with a want of faith in one another. The storm broke suddenly, and without forewarning to uncle Bryan and my mother. But in the mean time the harmony was almost perfect. Jessie, when she went to bed, no longer parted from uncle Bryan with a careless 'Good-night,' but kissed him regularly every morning and every night, and he submitted to the caress without, however, inviting it by look or word. But even that wonder took place on a certain evening when Jessie, with a touch of her old ways upon her, wished us all good-night in a careless tone, and without kissing uncle Bryan. She opened and closed the door, but did not leave the room, and placed her fingers on her lips with a bright eager look in our direction, warning us not to betray her. Uncle Bryan's back was towards us, and he made no motion at first. Jessie stole quietly behind his chair, and stood there in silence. Presently, uncle Bryan turned his head slowly to the door, with something of a yearning look of regret in his face, and at the same instant Jessie's arms were round his neck, and her lips were pressed to his. 'Don't be angry with me,' she said. 'Angry, Jessie! I thought you had forgotten me. But you are as full of tricks as Puck was.' 'I can't help it, uncle Bryan. Good-night!' 'Good-night, my dear.' And Jessie went to bed with a very light heart, and left light hearts behind her. It was apparent that these enchanting ways were pleasant to uncle Bryan, and I told Jessie so. 'It softens him, Jessie.' 'It takes a long time to soften a rock,' she observed, with a thoughtful smile.