When the English publishers read "A Window in Thrums" in manuscript they thought it unbearably sad and begged me to alter the end.

They warned me that the public do not like sad books.

Well, the older I grow and the sadder the things I see, the more do I wish my books to be bright and hopeful, but an author may not always interfere with his story, and if I had altered the end of "A Window in Thrums" I think I should never have had any more respect for myself.

It is a sadder book to me than it can ever be to anyone else.

I see Jess at her window looking for the son who never came back as no other can see her, and I knew that unless I brought him back in time the book would be a pain to me all my days, but the thing had to be done.
I think there are soft-hearted readers here and there who will be glad to know that there never was any Jess.