faculty for jumping at
conclusions, said:

"Now, methinks, somebody will be taking a wedding-trip to the Land of
the Midnight Sun in the near future. I congratulate you, my dear boy,
and you can have the 'Gypsy' when you are ready." Then he added shyly,
"Maybe it can be arranged so that there can be four in the party."

The next morning Albert, bearing the legal evidence of Telly's heritage,
and with buoyant heart, left for Southport. The day was dark, and when,
late in the afternoon, the little boat bearing him as sole passenger
halted at the head of the island and he saw the smiling face and muffled
form of Uncle Terry standing on the wharf alone, he could hardly wait to
leap ashore.

"Bless yer heart, Mr. Page," exclaimed Uncle Terry, grasping both of
Albert's hands in his, "but the sight o' ye is good fur sore eyes."

"And how are Aunt Lissy and Telly?" responded Albert, smiling into the
glowing face of the old man.

"Oh, they're purty middlin', an' they'll be powerful glad to see ye,
too. It's been a long time since ye left us."

And how vividly at this moment came to Albert every detail of his last
parting from Telly, framed as she was then in a background of scarlet
and brown foliage! He could see her as he last saw her, standing there
with bowed head and tear-wet face, and feel a tinge of the keen pain
that pulled at his own heart-strings then. He could almost hear the sad
rustle of the autumn winds in the dry leaves all about that had added a
pathos to their parting.

And now only a few miles separated them!

But the way was long and Uncle Terry's old horse slow, and the road in
the hollows a quagmire of half-frozen mud. Gone were all the leaves of
the scrub oaks, and beneath the thickets of spruce still remained a
white pall of snow. A half gale was blowing over the island, and when
they reached the hilltop that overlooked the Cape, it was so dark that
only scattered lights showed where the houses were. When they halted in
front of Uncle Terry's home the booming of the giant billows filled the
night air, and by the gleam of the lighthouse rays Albert could see the
spray tossed high over the point rocks.

"Go right in," said Uncle Terry, "an' don't stop ter knock; ye'll find
the wimmin folks right glad ter see ye, an' I'll take keer o' the hoss."

With Telly it had been a long, dreary, desolate, monotonous winter. Her
only consolation had been the few letters from the one and only man who
had ever