"You must not praise me," she said. "I feel so guilty and wicked." "That is wrong; you should not give way to these morbid feelings." "Indeed, Aunt Matty, I am not like the same girl I was a few months ago." I knew whence the change came--I could have given its exact date; but it did not extend back over a period of months--a few weeks had served to bring that unrest and trouble upon the sweet girl. With the coming of Mrs. Dennison all those shadows had crept into the house, gathering silently but surely about every heart, dividing those who before had no thought nor wish that was not common to all. I felt, too, that she was preparing the way for deeper and darker troubles, which lingered not far off, only awaiting the command of the arch-magician to approach and wrap us in their folds. CHAPTER XXX. MRS. DENNISON GATHERS WILD FLOWERS. While I was lost in gloomy thoughts which those words had aroused, Jessie turned from my chair and walked slowly up and down the terrace, after a habit she had inherited from her father in any season of doubt or perplexity. At last she came softly back and leaned over me again. "Aunt Matty," she whispered, timidly. "Yes, dear." "I have made up my mind." I looked in her face, and its expression told me at once what her decision had been. "You will go," I said. "Yes, I will. It is right--it is my duty! If he were never to get well, I should reproach myself bitterly for not having granted his request." "God bless you, Jessie! I knew you would not refuse." "I am sure that my parents will have no objection." "I can answer for that--the most scrupulous person could see no harm. Besides, Bosworth is a favorite both with your father and mother." "Yes. Dear mamma will be so sorry to hear that he is ill--poor young man!" "We will go to-morrow, Jessie. I dare say your father will accompany you." "But I want you also, Aunt Matty; I should have no courage if you were not there." "I will go, of course. You must speak to Mr. Lee about it--don't forget." "I am not likely to; I will tell him this evening. But Aunt Matty--" "Yes. Don't hesitate so. One would think you were afraid of your old friend. Not a cross one, am I?" That made her laugh again; but the merriment died quickly. Her sensitive heart was so sorely troubled that her usual gayety was quite gone. "I shall never fear you; but what I meant was that I don't wish Mrs. Dennison to know that I am going." "She is not likely to learn it from me, Jessie." "She would laugh at me--and this is no subject nor time for a jest." "I should think not, indeed. The woman who could make a mockery of such feelings would be a libel on her sex." "Ah! you must not be harsh." "Only the old bitterness--don't mind it, Jessie. But we won't tell Mrs. Dennison."