It was probably due to one or more of these phases or traits of character, which the illness of Fellows had developed in Jessie Russell, that had caused the feeling of friendship he imagined he entertained for her to reveal itself to him as that of a much warmer and tenderer attachment, which might more properly be attributed to one of those well-directed shafts from Cupid’s artillery which the little god, with so much precision, is so well able and so ready to discharge. Fellows was in love with Jessie Russell. He had to admit that to himself, and he was longing to confess it to her. But whenever the occasion presented itself—and opportunities occurred in abundance—remorse restrained him and kept him silent. Dare he link her future with one whose past was a record of shame and crime? If she cared for him—as he sometimes flattered himself she did—need he trouble her with that which could not possibly do her any good, and might do much harm? Whatever may have been the follies and sins of his past life, his moral perceptions were still keen enough to see that such a course of conduct would be most dishonouring and dishonourable to the woman he professed to have a supreme regard for. Thoughts such as these naturally cast a shadow over his life; he avoided the society of his fellows, or, when circumstances compelled him to associate with them, he was moody, taciturn, and reserved, so that in the house or in the field his converse or communications were of the briefest, and marked by no feature to lead to its continuance. His habits and general demeanour had not escaped the notice of Mrs. Ranger, and, with that womanly intuitiveness so characteristic of the sex, she had not been long in divining the cause. Taking advantage of an opportunity one evening when alone together, and the work of the day was over, she mentioned the subject to her husband. "Have you noticed how quiet and reserved our chap Fellows has been lately?" "Yes, I have, Bess; it seems difficult to get a word out of him." "What do you suppose to be the cause?" "Well, I have thought at times he was in love with that girl of Russell’s." "And if he is, I can’t see the reason for his going about moping as he appears to be doing." "Nor can I; although I know how hard it is to understand the goings on of two people in love." "I’m sure it’s not because there is any difficulty on her side. She is quite as much in love with him as ever he is with her. It’s a case where the man has only got to ask to have." "I wonder whether he has said anything yet to Jessie on the subject?" "Well, you need not wonder long, for I can tell you that he has not." "How do you know that, Bess?" "Why, of course, from the girl herself. Having a women’s natural curiosity, and exercising that privilege which my age gives me, I asked her if there was anything between them, and she assured me there was not."