I knew how she would have finished that sentence but for Jessie's presence, and shrunk from drawing forth another word. At length Lottie lifted her wet face and shook the hair back from her eyes. "I'm a queer jewsharp, ain't I?" she said, with a giggle that broke up the sob in her throat; "but it's true as the gospel. Mr. Lawrence is coming, and you mark if he don't go through with that very performance, kneeling and all!" "Well, well! It was right to tell us, and Miss Jessie thanks you in her heart," I said, raising the girl from her lowly position. "Now go to your room." She arose, looked wistfully at Jessie an instant; then creeping to her side, knelt down as she had often done at the feet of Mrs. Lee, and, taking the hand which fell listlessly down, kissed it. Jessie started at the touch, and gently releasing the hand, laid it on the young girl's hair. "I thank you," she said, looking down to the honest eyes into which great tears were crowding fast; "my mother loved you, and so do I." "I--I'm a-trying to do my best and be a mother to you myself, now that she is dead and gone," answered Lottie, with a look of honest affection beaming over her face. Jessie almost smiled; at which Lottie blushed like a child, and, starting to her feet, went away, closing the door softly after her. "Can you believe this?" said Jessie, after she was gone. "Yes," I answered. "Whatever her sources of information may be, Lottie is always correct." "And he will dare--at her request--by her consent, perhaps--he will dare!" She arose and walked the room, her black dress sweeping the carpet like an imperial robe. I did not speak; anxiety kept me dumb. Was this a burst of anger that would pass away? When that man, with all his bewildering attractions, should stand before her--humble, imploring--how would it be? The hopes which had begun to dawn in my heart for young Bosworth faltered, notwithstanding this queenly manifestation of pride. "_She_ has sent for him indeed!" burst from those curved lips; "there is nothing humiliating in this, Aunt Matty. She invites gentlemen to my father's house and allows them to approach me. Perhaps she has found out that half this property is mine now, and sent him word." I started. This might be true. There certainly was something inexplicable in the evident understanding between Lawrence and our guest. "Well, let him come," said Jessie, drawing a deep breath. "Let him come; I understand myself now." "You will not accept him then?" I inquired, anxiously. "Accept him!" she replied, with a calm smile, which told how deep and settled her pride had become, far more clearly than the flashing eye and writhing lip that had startled me a moment before. "You need not fear that, my friend." "And you do not love him?" "No, my friend, I do not love him; nor am I sure that he is worthy of any good woman's love." I clasped my hands in thankfulness. Her words had lifted a painful weight from my bosom. "Thank God!" I murmured.