'When girls get together, Chris, they _will_ talk; and Josey West and I don't sit in the corner, mumchance, with our mouths shut, as you sat to-night. Have you anything else to tell me?' 'Yes,' I said, 'and I wouldn't speak of it if I hadn't promised mother that I would do so. Yesterday she saw you riding in a cab with a gentleman.' 'That is quite true,' said Jessie simply, before I could proceed farther; 'but why didn't she speak to me about it?' 'Rather say, Jessie, why did you not speak to her. But mother is afraid that you mistrust her; she says that you avoid her when she has it in her mind to speak seriously to you.' 'She told you that?' 'Yes, Jessie.' 'She is not wrong, Chris,' said Jessie, with a sigh; 'but we all seem to be playing at cross purposes, and not one of us seems to understand the other.' 'I think I understand you, Jessie.' 'Do you, Chris?' she asked, in a tenderer tone. 'If others mistrust you, I don't. I know that everything you do is right.' She shook her head gently. 'No, you shall not make me think otherwise, Jessie. You and I will stand together, come what will.' 'Against all the rest of the world,' she said, quoting my words. 'Yes, against all the rest of the world, Jessie,' I replied eagerly. 'It will never be, Chris; I would not accept such a service from you if the whole happiness of my life depended upon it. Ah me! Often and often I think what an unhappy day that was for all of us when I came among you.' 'You said so on the Sunday morning that you asked uncle Bryan to come to church with us; but you repented immediately afterwards, if you remember, and said you were not sorry, for if it had happened so, you would not have known mother.' 'I have learnt something from her, Chris--something good, I hope.' 'You could learn nothing from her that was not sweet and good,' I said. These last words were spoken on the threshold of our home. CHAPTER XXXII. JESSIE MAKES AN EXPLANATION. Jessie walked straight into the parlour, where both uncle Bryan and my mother were sitting. 'You are anxious to know,' she said, addressing my mother, 'where I go to of a morning.' 'Yes, my dear,' answered my mother. I saw that uncle Bryan was listening, and I saw also by the expression in his face that the matter was new to him; my mother had not complained to him of Jessie. 'Chris has been speaking to me about it,' said Jessie, 'and I thought it best to tell you myself. I go to Mr. Rackstraw's.' 'Who is he, my dear?' asked my mother. 'He is a gentleman who teaches young ladies--I beg your pardon'--(with the slightest possible glance at uncle Bryan)--'young women how to act; he educates them for the stage.' 'But surely, my dear,' remonstrated my mother, 'you have no intention of becoming an actress.'