the tones of the voice," replied Jessie, a fine enthusiasm
illuminating her beautiful face. "No man can hide from us his real
character, unless we let self-love and self-interest draw an
obscuring veil."

"You are a strange girl, Jessie--a very strange girl!" Mrs. Loring
was fretted. "What can you mean? Here, a splendid fortune promises
to be poured into your lap, and you draw your garments aside,
hesitating and questioning as to whether the golden treasure is
worth receiving! I am half amazed at your conduct!"

"Are you weary of my presence here, Aunt Phoebe?" said Jessie, a
tremor in her low failing tones.

"Now give me patience with the foolish girl!" exclaimed Mrs. Loring,
assuming an angry aspect. "What has come over you, Jessie? Did I say
anything about being wearied with your presence? Because I manifest
an unusual degree of interest in your future welfare, am I to be
charged with a mean, selfish motive? I did not expect this of you."

"Dear aunt! forgive me!" said Jessie, giving way to tears. "My
feelings are unusually disturbed this morning. Late hours and the
excitement of company have made me nervous. As for Mr. Dexter, let
us pass him by for the present. He has not impressed me as favorably
as you seem to desire."

"But Jessie."

"Spare me, dear aunt! If you press the subject on me now, you will
only excite disgust where you hope to create a favorable impression.