ese fishings, Jessie?'

'Are you, father?' she said, rather drearily, conscious that there was
no gladness in her own face or voice.

'Yes, because I know what a brother's friendship is worth. I believe
Percy's good-natured patronage seems to Cecil the greatest reward he has
had yet for his bravery in bearing his misfortunes.'

Jessie did not like the idea much; it seemed to her that if it were
true, her father and she had _both_ reason to feel slighted.

'Use your imagination, Jessie,' said Mr. Cunningham, smiling; 'you have
plenty, I know, and the great use of it is to help us to see things from
other people's point of view. Shall I tell you something else? I am so
glad of this companionship because I believe Cecil, though the younger,
will do Percy good.'

Jessie quite understood this; her face brightened, as it always did at
anything like praise of Cecil, and she felt it very delightful to be
taken into her father's confidence in such a 'grown-up' kind of way.

'I can carry the dinner, if you like, father,' she said briskly.

'Suppose Francie and you both go, and take your own dinners as well?
That will be a kind of picnic on a small scale, almost as pleasant,
perhaps, as the grand one of to-morrow. You can come away afterwards,
and leave the boys to their sport.'

Jessie looked rather cloudy again for a minute; it was so like being
offered a little slice when she had wanted the whole loaf!

Her father was standing quite near her now, and he smoothed down her
hair softly with his hand, as he said, 'Jessie, have you ever thought
what a sweet and happy thing love is when it has overcome jealousy? It
is not worth _very_ much till then.'

For one moment there was a sharp struggle within her, and then she
pressed her cheek against his arm, with a loving, grateful gesture. He
had no fear that his little maiden would give way to jealousy any
longer. Now that he had given the sore feeling a name, he knew that she
would be as anxious to drive it away as he was.

That dinner in the meadows was very pleasant--'Quite enchanting,'
Frances declared. 'Awfully jolly,' said Cecil, who was not so choice in
his vocabulary. Percy looked on it as rather a childish entertainment,
and said more than once that he wished 'they' hadn't forgotten that he
always took pepper with everything; but he never blamed either of his
sisters, only this mysterious 'they,' and made an excellent dinner,
spite of the absence of the pepper-box. H