hen he came, always treated him with the kindness of a
generous woman who has had an opportunity to forgive, and always watched
the serious, solitary man with a great compassion for his loss, a
growing admiration for his upright life. More than once the beach birds
saw two figures pacing the sands at sunrise with the peace of early day
upon their faces and the light of a kindred mood shining in their eyes.
More than once the friendly ocean made a third in the pleasant
conversation, and its low undertone came and went between the mellow
bass and silvery treble of the human voices with a melody that lent
another charm to interviews which soon grew wondrous sweet to man and
maid. Aunt Pen seldom saw the twain together, seldom spoke of Evan; and
Debby held her peace, for, when she planned to make her innocent
confessions, she found that what seemed much to her was nothing to
another ear and scarcely worth the telling; so, unconscious as yet
whither the green path led, she went on her way, leading two lives, one
rich and earnest, hoarded deep within herself, the other frivolous and
gay for all the world to criticize. But those venerable spinsters, the
Fates, took the matter into their own hands, and soon got the better of
those short-sighted matrons, Mesdames Grundy and Carroll; for, long
before they knew it, Frank and Debby had begun to read together a book
greater than Dickens ever wrote, and when they had come to the fairest
part of the sweet story Adam first told Eve, they looked for the name
upon the title-page, and found that it was "Love."

Eight weeks came and went,--eight wonderfully happy weeks to Debby and
her friend; for "propinquity" had worked more wonders than poor Mrs.
Carroll knew, as the only one she saw or guessed was the utter
captivation of Joe Leavenworth. He had become "himself" to such an
extent that a change of identity would have been a relief; for the
object of his adoration showed no signs of relenting, and he began to
fear, that, as Debby said, her heart was "not in the market." She was
always friendly, but never made those interesting betrayals of regard
which are so encouraging to youthful gentlemen "who fain would climb,
yet fear to fall." She never blushed when he pressed her hand, never
fainted or grew pale when he appeared with a smashed trotting-wagon and
a black eye, and actually slept through a serenade that would have won
any other woman's soul out of her body with its despairing quavers