"Have you actually taken your young woman off my
hands, or have you not?"
No direct answer followed either question. George's feelings had
been too deeply stirred to allow him to return jest for jest at a
moment's notice.
"Oh, father, how can I thank you!" he said. "And you! and you!"
he added, looking at Owen and Morgan gratefully.
"You must thank Chance as well as thank us," I replied, speaking
as lightly as my heart would let me, to encourage him. "The
advantage of numbers in our little love-plot was all on our side.
Remember, George, we were three to one."
While I was speaking the breakfast-room door opened noiselessly,
and showed us Jessie standing on the threshold, uncertain whether
to join us or to run back to her own room. Her bright complexion
heightened to a deep glow; the tears just rising in her eyes, and
not yet falling from them; her delicate lips trembling a little,
as if they were still shyly conscious of other lips that had
pressed them but a few minutes since; her attitude irresolutely
graceful; her hair just disturbed enough over her forehead and
her cheeks to add to the charm of them--she stood before us, the
loveliest living picture of youth, and tenderness, and virgin
love that eyes ever looked on. George and I both advanced
together to meet her at the door.
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