Whatever writers of romance may say to the contrary, out of an extreme desire to invest their heroines with qualities and attributes which, as a rule, ordinary mortals do not possess, it is seldom that a declaration such as Jessie heard this afternoon can be truthfully said to be altogether unexpected. Words may never pass to convey the intelligence, nevertheless there is a subtle magnetism in the language of the eye which telegraphs to the loved one, more vividly and more surely than words could express, the feelings with which each regards the other. So that generally, long before the declaration is made which is supposed to reveal the feelings with which the man regards the woman, she has discovered it all, and been waiting, expecting the inevitable to happen. Except during his long illness, when Jessie had carefully and faithfully nursed him back to convalescence,—an illness, be it remembered, which had been brought about by his self-denying efforts on her behalf, in rescuing her from a position of considerable danger,—she had had but few opportunities of seeing him, or being thrown into his society. Few and brief, however, as many of those interviews had proved, they had not been without leaving their effects behind. The eyes as they had looked into each other’s faces, or caught stolen glances which were thought to be unobserved, had given rise to thoughts and feelings too subtle for words to express, and too sacred even for themselves to admit, during that process of introspection which from time to time went on. Jessie, therefore, whilst perfectly conscious in her own heart that the young fellow now by her side was entertaining feelings for her which might eventually find expression in words, was quite unprepared for the meeting this afternoon, and for what was in truth the sudden declaration of his affection for her. Jessie, it may be added, was a woman possessing a fair amount of common-sense, yet of an ardent and enthusiastic temperament,—capable of loving intensely an object worthy of her affections. The period which had elapsed since attaining womanhood had been so brief, that she was not yet quit of many of the high ideals and romantic notions with which lovers are wont to invest the heroes or heroines they are in search of; but her rough prairie-training, added to the common-sense shrewdness of her character, had enabled her to see that marriage ought not to be regarded as such a thing of chance as to be left dependent upon the fancied love, growing out of the attractions of a pretty form or a lovely face, calculated as they are to bewitch and bewilder the first enamoured noodle that casts his glances upon them. It was, therefore, in tones of some hesitation that she expressed the opinion that they had scarcely known each other long enough, or seen sufficient of one another, to be able to judge as to their suitability for such an important arrangement.