'That is,' she said, with a deprecatory shake of the head, 'that he is Jessie-blind. Ah, Chris, if he is blind to what there is good in me, are you not blind to what there is bad?' I was about to expostulate, but she stopped me: 'I am not quite satisfied with myself; I don't know that it would not have been better for me to have held my tongue. And another thing, Chris: I am not sure whether I am glad that you think I was right.' 'Why, Jessie, what things you are saying!' 'I must say them, Chris, for I know what is in my mind. Answer me this question. Supposing you were not fond of me, as I know you are--I don't mind saying it now, for I am speaking very seriously--would you think then that I was right? Do you side with me out of your head or out of your heart?' 'My reason approves of what you did,' I said earnestly; 'I want you to believe that, Jessie. Say that you do believe it.' 'I do, Chris.' 'Then you must be glad to know that I am certain you are not to blame.' She shook her head again, and said: 'Perhaps it would have been better if all of you had been against me.' 'But who _is_ against you, Jessie?' I persisted. 'Mother is not, and I am not.' 'Never mind that now, Chris. I can see things that you can't see, because----'and she took my hand, and looked straight into my eye.' 'Because what, Jessie?' 'Because you are colour-blind, my dear,' she replied, half gravely, half sportively, in unconscious imitation of Josey West. From this time her visits to the Wests grew even more frequent than they used to be. She was there not only in the evening--on which occasions I was always with her--but very often also in the day. My mother spoke of this to me regretfully, and said she was afraid that Jessie mistrusted her. 'Mistrust the sweetest woman in the world!' said Jessie. 'No, indeed, indeed I do not! But can't you see, Chris, that I am better away?' 'No, I can't see it, Jessie--not that I have any objection to the Wests; you know that I am very fond of them.' 'Still colour-blind, Chris? you still can't see what I can see?' 'You seem to be putting riddles to me, Jessie,' I said. 'Well, you must find the answers without my assistance; and as to my going to the Wests so often in the daytime, what comfort do you think I find at home?' None, I was compelled reluctantly to confess. 'Have you heard uncle Bryan complain of my absence?' continued Jessie. 'Does he say that I am too often away?' 'No, Jessie, he has said nothing, to my knowledge.' 'Because he sees nothing to regret in it.' 'But mother does, Jessie.' 'Chris,' said Jessie, with tearful earnestness, 'if I had a mother like yours I should thank God for her morning, noon, and night; and if I ever wavered in my love for her, in my faith in her, if I ever did anything to give her pain, I should pray to die!' 'You speak out of _my_ heart, Jessie, as well as out of your own.' She gazed at me sadly and affectionately, and with something of wonder too.