of the oddity of the frames,
which were evidently home-made, for it was too dark to see more, and
then a door was opened, and Uncle Terry invited him into a lighted room
where a table was set. The elderly lady was standing at one end of it,
and beside her a younger one, and as Albert entered he heard Uncle Terry
say: "This is our gal Telly, Mr. Page," and as he bowed he saw, garbed
in spotless white, the girl he had seen leaning against the rock and
watching the sunset.

CHAPTER XX

A PAIR OF BLUE EYES

Some men have their fancy caught by a woman's face or form, or both;
others by a look, a word, a smile. A witty reply to some masculine jest
has tipped many an arrow for Cupid and won for a maiden a lover.

The appealing yet wondering glance that Albert Page met as he bowed to
the girl standing beside the table that evening was one he never
afterwards forgot. It was only one, for after that, and during the
entire meal, her blue eyes were kept veiled by their long lashes, or
modestly directed elsewhere.

"It's a charming spot down here," he remarked soon after the meal began,
"and so hidden away that it is a surprise. I noticed the light as we
came in, but did not see the village."

"Wal, ye didn't miss anything," responded his host; "none o' the houses
are much for style, an' mebbe it's lucky they're hid behind the rocks."

"I thought them quaint and comfortable," observed Albert; "but what an
odd name you have for the place! Why do you call it Saint's Rest?"

"Chiefly 'cause none o' the people have any chance to become sinners, I
reckon," was the answer; "it's a trifle lonesome in the winter, though."

"I suppose fishing is your principal occupation here," continued Albert,
seeing that sentiment was not considered by Uncle Terry; "your land does
not seem adapted for cultivation."

"There ain't much chance for tillin'," he replied; "the land's wuss'n
whar I was brung up down in Connecticut, an' thar we had ter round up
the sheep once a week an' sharpen thar noses on the grin'stun! We manage
ter raise 'nough ter eat, though."

When the meal was over Uncle Terry said, "It's nice an' cool out on the
rocks, and thar's some seats out thar; if ye enjoy smoking we best go
out while the wimmin are doin' the dishes."

The moon that Frank had planned to use was nearing its full, and high
overhead, and as the two men, so widely separated in all respects,
sought congeniality in tobacco out on that lonesome poi