t exactly a fair question, but conscious of the fact that she
had tried to quiz him, Alice answered it frankly.

"I think she is the most gracefully charming hostess I ever met," she
replied, "and you ought to be proud of her. In a way, I think you
conveyed a wrong impression of her to me the first time I met you, and
it has lasted ever since."

"I am sorry if I did," replied Frank honestly, "I did not mean to.
Mother knows how to be very nice to any one she likes and very freezing
to any one she doesn't. She fell in love with you the night you sang,
and I knew she would. That is why I almost begged you on my knees to
sing," he added earnestly, "so please do not scold me for, as you say,
giving a wrong impression."

"I did not mean to scold you, Frank," she replied, "and if I hurt you,
please forgive me." It was the first time she had ever used his first
name and it made his heart beat high with hope. He would have there and
then whispered of that hope, had it not been for his sister's advice to
wait for the right moment, and it was wise that he heeded that advice.
When noon came he bought a pitcher of coffee all prepared, at a railroad
lunch counter, and a cup and saucer, then spread a newspaper between
them, and over it a napkin, and while she ate he held the cup and shared
the edibles. It was not a gracefully eaten lunch, and yet it served to
brush away much of the restraint that lay between them. When the hills
of Sandgate were visible he said, "I have an hour before the returning
train, and just time enough to see you safely home."

Alice looked at him with surprise.

"And that is your idea of my hospitality," she exclaimed, "to let you go
away like that? The morning train is the earliest one you can escape on,
and if I am not good enough company for you this evening, you can go and
call on Abby Miles."

And what a surprised and glad old lady Aunt Susan was when the two
stepped off the train, and how vividly Frank recalled one year ago when
he and Albert met Alice at this same cheerless depot with its one small
waiting-room and adjoining shed! The same staid horse was hitched
outside, and as he bundled his two charges into the sleigh and
officiously took the reins, while Aunt Susan lamented because she had
not known he was coming, "so's to hev suthin' fit to eat in the house,"
he felt he was master of the situation.

"Don't mind me, Aunt Susan," he said with easy familiarity; "I am not a
visitor, I am a big