r. She
almost cried for joy at the good news, for poor, pretty, and
proud-spirited Alice Page was feeling very heart-hungry when the letter
came. He was just a little surprised at her vehement welcome.

"Oh, I have been so lonesome, Bertie," she said when they were alone
together, "and the evenings drag by so slowly! Then you do not write me
as often or such nice letters as formerly, and Aunt Susan never seems to
notice that I am blue. If it were not for my school, I should go crazy,
I think."

His heart smote him as he thought of a certain other blue-eyed girl who
was now occupying his thoughts to the partial exclusion of this loving
sister, and of whom he had meant to tell Alice. In an instant it
occurred to him that it would hurt her now to know it, and that he had
best keep it to himself.

"I am very busy these days, sis," he replied, "and my mind is all taken
up with work. Mr. Nason's business is increasing and I have a good many
clients besides him." Then as if to draw her out, he added: "How did you
like Blanch Nason?"

"Oh, she was very nice," replied Alice coolly, "and if she were a poor
girl and lived here I could easily learn to love her. As it is, it is
useless for me to think of her as a friend. It was good of her to pay me
a visit, though, and I enjoyed every minute of it."

"And what about Frank?" queried Albert, eyeing his sister with a smile;
"did he not say a lot of sweet things to you?"

Alice colored.

"Oh, he is nice enough," she answered, "and tried to make me believe he
had fallen in love with me, but it won't do any good. I am sure his
managing mamma will marry him to some thin girl with a fat purse, or
aristocratic family, which, I imagine, is of more consequence to her."

Albert gave a low and prolonged whistle.

"So that is the way the wind blows, my sweet sister, is it?" he
observed; "and yet my possible future law partner has been humming 'Ben
Bolt' nearly every day for the past two months! I made believe you must
have smiled on him very sweetly when he was here."

The thought of one day when she had done more than smile at this young
man brought even a deeper color than before to her face.

"Please do not say any more about him, Bert," she answered with a little
pain in her voice; "he is all right, but I am too poor and too proud to
satisfy his mother, so that is all there is or ever will be to it." Then
she added in self-protection, "Tell me about the island girl I heard you