She changed the entire aspect of our house. It belonged to her to brighten, apparently without conscious effort, everything which came in contact with her. The contrast between her and my mother was very great. My mother's tastes, like her nature, were quiet and unassuming. Her hair was always plainly done, and, within my experience, she had never worn cap or flower; her dress was always of one sober tint; and her pale face and almost noiseless step were in keeping with these. If she had had the slightest reason to suppose that by placing a flower in her hair, and wearing a bit of bright ribbon, or by any other innocently-attractive device, she could have given me or uncle Bryan pleasure, she would have done so instantly; but, out of her entire disregard of self, no such thought ever entered her mind. Now Jessie was fond of flowers and ribbons, and was gifted with the rare faculty of knowing where a bit of colour, and what colour, would prove most attractive. From the most simple means she produced the most exquisite results. Her box was a perfect Pandora's box in its inexhaustible supply of adornments, and she was continually surprising us with something new, or something which she made to look like new. And she was by no means disposed to hide her light under a bushel. Everything she did must be admired, and if admiration did not come spontaneously, she was very prompt in asking or even begging for it. It was amusing to watch the tricksy efforts by which she strove to attract attention to anything she was wearing for the first time, however trifling it might be, or to the slightest change in the arrangement of her dress. Then, when her object was attained, she would ask, 'And do you really like it? Are you sure now?' or 'Would it look better so?' or 'What do you think of its being this way--or that?' I was the person whom she consulted most frequently; but I could see nothing to find fault with, and could never suggest any improvement; whereas uncle Bryan would shrug his shoulders, and mutter disparaging remarks, which never failed to provoke warm replies from Jessie. Then he would smile caustically, and hit her hard with words still more spiteful, or retire into his shell, according to his humour. 'We will have a world made especially for you, young lady,' he said--whenever he was disposed to be bitter, he called her young lady'--'a world full of ribbons and flounces and flowers and silk dresses and satin shoes, and everything else you crave for.' 'That would be nice,' she observed complacently. 'And you shall live in it all alone, so that your title to these nice things shall not be disputed.' 'That wouldn't do,' she answered promptly; 'what is the use of having nice things unless you get people to admire them?'