Page place. If it were Sunday, not many years ago, and about eleven in
the morning, a stranger passing the church would have heard through the
open doors and windows the exquisitely sweet voice of Alice Page, clear
as a bell and melodious as a bird's, toying and trilling through
"Coronation," or some other easily recognized hymn; and had that
stranger awaited the close of service he or she would have seen among
the congregation filing out one petite and plump little lady, with
flower-like face, sparkling blue eyes, and kiss-inspiring mouth, who
would most likely have walked demurely along with her big brother
Albert, and turning down a narrow pathway, follow him across the
meadows, over a foot-bridge that spans the stream, and up to an
old-fashioned elm-shaded house.

This landmark, known far and wide as the Page place, is historic. Built
in the time of King George, and one of the first three erected in
Sandgate, it has withstood the storms of two centuries and seen many
generations of Pages come and go. Additions have been made to it--an ell
on one side, larger windows and a wide veranda in front. Inside it is
much the same, for the open fireplaces remain in parlor and sitting-room
and a tall clock of solemn tick stands in the hall where it stood when
Paul Revere took his famous ride.

The last owner, Simeon Page,--or, as he was called, Squire Page,--joined
the great majority two years after an enterprising railroad crept up the
Sandgate valley. He had bitterly opposed its entrance into the town and
it was asserted that chagrin at his defeat hastened his death. His
widow, with their two children, Albert and Alice, and a widowed sister,
remained and with the aid of hired men managed the farm. But bushes
began to choke the pastures and meadows; the outbuildings grew shabby;
the house received no paint; and as the children grew up and needs
increased, one by one the broad fields were sold. It had been the
squire's ambition that his only son should become a professional man,
and carrying out his wishes, Albert's mother had pinched and saved,
denying herself all luxuries, and given him a collegiate education. He
had graduated with honors; read law; been admitted to the bar; and then
returned to Sandgate and opened an office. Alice, three years his
junior, had been sent to a boarding-school for two years, where she
devoted most of her time to music, then came home again as mother's
helpmate.

But the years of self-denial