That Telly's heart was
very tender toward him he felt sure, and what is more, that in time he
would overcome her one objection.

"Come out on the point, dear," he said as she tried to draw herself
away, "so we can see the ocean better. I will tell you the story I
promised last evening." He still held her a half prisoner, and when they
were seated where the waves were beating almost at their feet, he began
his recital. When he came to that portion in which Frye played a part,
and ending in such a ghastly denouement, she shuddered.

"That is the one horrible part of taking your own life," she said, "to
think how you will look and what those who find you will say. If I were
to do such a thing I should first make sure no one would ever find me."

The remark startled him. "Telly," he said soberly, "do not ever think of
such a thing. Would you, whose heart is so loving and tender, burden all
those who know you with a lifelong sorrow?"

"No, no, not that way," she answered quickly, "only if those who love me
were taken I should want to follow them; that is all. Please forget I
said it." Then she told him her own brief history, and at last, after
much coaxing, a little of the one sorrow of her life.

"Now I know," he said, "why you avoided speaking about the picture of
the wreck the first time I came here." Then in a moment he added,
"Telly, I want you to give it to me and let me take it away. I want it
for two reasons: one is, it gave me the first hint of your life's
history. And then I do not want you to look at it any more."

"You may have it," she answered, smiling sadly; "it was foolish of me to
paint it in the first place, and I wish I never had."

When the sun was low and they were ready to return he said, "Promise me,
sweetheart, that you will try to forget all of your past that is sad,
and think only of us who love you, and to whom your life is a blessing."

That evening he noticed Uncle Terry occasionally watched her with
wistful eyes, and, as on the evening before, both he and Aunt Lissy
retired early.

"They wish me well," Albert thought, and with gratitude. He had even
more reason for it when the next day Uncle Terry proposed that Telly
should drive to the head of the island in his place.

"I'm sorry ye must leave us, Mr. Page," he said, when Albert was ready
to bid the old folks good-by. "I wish ye could stay longer; but cum
again soon, an' remember, our latch-string's allus out fer ye."

When the old