all disputes were left for final settlement.

Captain Carver had been this authority at the start, others had
succeeded him, and when Winn Hardy came to the island Jess Hutton held
the sceptre. All this is but history, pertinent merely to show how it
came about that Winn won his way so easily, and those otherwise
hard-headed islanders followed Jess Hutton's lead without question. Winn
won him at the start, and the rest without effort.

But a community, like a family, is upset by an unusual event, and the
starting of the quarry, the investment in its stock, and the final
return of Jess from the city, to distribute among them sums so out of
proportion to their original investments, were like so many stones
thrown into a placid mill pond. And had Winn Hardy returned with Jess,
or come later, his reception would have been like that of a conquering
hero.

All this formed the sole topic of conversation for weeks, and hearing
Winn lauded to the skies as a benefactor, before whom all should bow,
had a peculiar effect on Mona. She, poor child, having little in common
with any other and feeling herself of small account to them or even to
her mother, felt herself still less so as this wave of universal
applause for Winn swept over the village. Then another point of pride
arose in her mind. While Winn had sought her society often, it was as a
next-door neighbor and by force of situation, rather than as a suitor,
she felt; and even his visits to the cave with her were due to a
romantic taste and his wish to hear her play. All this was, in a way,
both right and wrong, and yet to Mona, keenly imaginative, it seemed
entirely true. Then, too, her mother had made her feel that her violin
playing was no credit; no one else, except Jess, ever expressed a word
of interest in her one talent, and poor Mona readily felt it more a
discredit than otherwise. Winn only had seemed to appreciate it, and to
Winn her heart had opened like the petals of a wild rose.

For a few days after his departure, she lived in a seventh heaven of
sweet illusions with this one king among men as her ideal--his every
word and smile and thought, all that life held for her. And then came
his letter which, to her tender heart and timid nature, seemed but a
cold farewell message. He had no plans, was uncertain of his future, and
of hers had no concern. This much she read between the lines, and
reading thus, her heart was broken, her courage crushed. How many tears