o bed. I am beginning to
feel as though I had done my day's work in the world. I'm getting feeble
John, this is the fact of it."

After that he always called him John.

Of Jess they heard but little. She wrote every week, it is true, and
gave an accurate account of all that was going on at Pretoria and of
her daily doings, but she was one of those people whose letters tell one
absolutely nothing of themselves and of what is passing in their minds.
They ought to have been headed "Our Pretoria Letter," as Bessie said
disgustedly after reading through three sheets in Jess's curious,
upright handwriting. "Once you lose sight of Jess," she went on, "she
might as well be dead for all you learn about her. Not that one learns
very much when she is here," she added reflectively.

"She is a peculiar woman," said John thoughtfully. At first he had
missed her very much, for, strange as she undoubtedly was, she had
touched a new string in him, of the existence of which he had not till
then been himself aware. And what is more, it had answered strongly
enough for some time; but now it was slowly vibrating itself into
silence again, much as a harp does when the striker takes his fingers
from the strings. Had she stayed on another week or so the effect might
have been more enduring.

But although Jess had gone away Bessie had not. On the contrary, she was
always about him, surrounding him with that tender care a woman, however
involuntarily, cannot prevent herself from lavishing on the man she
loves. Her beauty moved about the place like a beam of light about a
garden, for she was indeed a lovely woman, and as pure and good as she
was lovely. Nor could John long remain in ignorance of her liking for
himself. He was not a vain man--very much the reverse, indeed--but
neither was he a fool. And it must be said that, though Bessie never
overstepped the bounds of maidenly reserve, neither did she take
particular pains to hide her preference. Indeed, it was too strong
to permit her so to do. Not that she was animated by the half-divine,
soul-searing breath of passion, such as animated her sister, which is a
very rare thing, and, take it altogether, as undesirable and unsuitable
to the ordinary conditions of this prosaic and work-a-day life as it
is rare. But she was tenderly and truly in love after the usual
young-womanly fashion; indeed, her passion, measured by the everyday
standard, would have proved to be a deep one. However this mig