hance to say a few sweet things to
this girl with the wondrous eyes, eh, Bert?"

"Please don't joke me about her before the rest of the crowd," said
Albert; "remember your promise!"

"Well, you told the truth when you said you had fallen in love with her,
I guess," observed Frank; "a fellow that feels that way about a girl
must be in love."

"My dear boy," replied Albert, "what you say may be true, but I've not
yet insisted upon her singing 'Ben Bolt' three times in one evening."

CHAPTER XXII

UNCLE TERRY'S GUEST

It was nearly noon when Albert left the yacht. He had exchanged his
bedraggled yachting-suit for a neat gray one, and with a small satchel,
his sketch-book, and a box of choice Havanas for Uncle Terry, he rowed
ashore. For three hours the "Gypsy" had been the cynosure of all the
Cape eyes, old or young, for a handsome two-hundred-ton yacht was a
novelty in their little harbor. When she steamed slowly out, with Frank
and his companions, in natty white duck suits, grouped on her stern, she
was a pretty sight, and as she cleared the narrow entrance, the crew
fired three guns and dipped her flag in honor of Albert, and then he
picked his way over the rocks to the lighthouse. Uncle Terry had not
returned from hauling his lobster traps, and Aunt Lissy and Telly met
him at the door. It is likely that his being one of the yachting-party
impressed them a little, for they were both dressed in their best. He
was invited in, and then Aunt Lissy said: "Please excuse me, fur I have
dinner to git, and Telly will entertain ye."

"And show me her pictures, I hope," put in Albert, with his most
persuasive smile.

It was an awkward position for Telly, and one that she had never before
been called upon to fill. Rather shy naturally, and her sole
acquaintance with the usages of society limited to the few people among
whom she had been brought up, to be called upon to entertain a smartly
dressed and citified young man was a decidedly new experience. Albert
saw her embarrassment, and with true gallantry at once set about making
her feel at ease.

"Please do not feel that you must try to entertain me, Miss Terry," he
said, "only show me your pictures and tell me about them."

"I am almost ashamed to," she replied timidly; "I have never taken any
lessons and feel that I do not know anything about painting. Father says
you are an artist yourself."

"Oh, no, Miss Terry," exclaimed Albert quickly, "he misunderstood