d occasionally made one at
their table. It was here that Jess was often in evidence, usually eating
his dinner there--always on Sunday. Then again, as the grass-grown
dooryard of his domicile adjoined the flower-filled one of Mrs. Hutton,
by some occult process a freshly cut bunch of roses, sweet peas or
pinks, found its way to his room each day. It was a trifle, perhaps, but
it is such trifles that make up home life.

And Mona herself, now that her timidity had worn away to a certain
extent, began to grow upon him. He had, from the evening when he
communed with himself in solitude, continually treated her with a sort
of big brother consideration; but as he saw more of her and realized the
limitations of her life, so small in comparison with her aspirations;
how day by day she lived, feeling herself a prisoner on the island, with
no one there who understood her except Jess, a little bud of pity
started in Winn's heart, and the temptation that assailed him that day
in the cave grew stronger.

"If I should feel the witchery of her playing in that romantic spot a
few times," he said to himself, "I should fall in love with her, and
couldn't help it."

But temptations of that nature are hard to resist, and like sweet
potations, once tested, we desire to sip again. So it came about that
one morning Winn said to her: "Mona, I am going to treat myself to a
half day away from the quarry, and if your mother is willing, I want you
to visit the gorge with me this afternoon and bring your violin. I would
rather you asked her consent," he added pointedly, "I shall enjoy it
better."

As this perfect June afternoon and its enjoyment had much to do with
shaping the heart histories of these two young people, considerable
space can well be devoted to it, and especially to their exchange of
ideas and feelings.

"I will let you carry the violin now," said Winn, when they had left the
village out of sight, "I want to gather a few wild roses to decorate
your trysting place. I have odd fancies about such things and believe,
as the Greeks did, that every cave and grotto is inhabited by some nymph
or gnome. From the way your playing there has affected me each time, I
am sure it is some beautiful nymph who has chosen the Devil's Oven for
her abode, so I am going to present her with a nosegay."

"I have read about fairies," responded Mona, artlessly, "but I do not
believe such creatures ever existed."

"But they do," asserted Winn, smilin