she shed no one knew; how many hours she passed alone in utter misery of
mind, no one guessed. For Mona was proud as well as tender, and not even
Uncle Jess should know that she suffered.

Now the waning summer, the nearing of chill autumn, and desolate
ice-bound winter added to her gloom. Her mother was not a sympathetic
companion, mates among the other island girls of her own age she had
none; only Uncle Jess, her violin, the cave, the flowers, and the sea.
In summer she had company, in winter none, except Jess.

And now summer was gone and winter nearing, and poor, timid, tender,
friendless Mona was broken-hearted.

For only a few days more did she go to the cave, and these visits
increased her grieving; it was like visiting the grave of a dead love.
When the November gales swept the island, Mona was made a prisoner, the
store and Jess her only escape. Here she kept her violin, and here she
came to brood over her sorrow and fight her own heartache. And here, be
it said, in the company of Jess only did she find any consolation. He
had such genial philosophy, such a happy faculty for looking upon the
bright side of all troubles,--his own as well as others,--that it made
him a well spring of good cheer.

He was not long in guessing the cause of Mona's despondency, though with
his cheerful optimism, feeling sure that in good time all would come out
right. He also discovered the new ambition that had come to her that
summer, as well as love, and in his own peculiar way set out to solve
the problem.

And here it must be stated that a girl in love and separated from her
heart's choice, having an ambition to go out into the world and earn
fame as a musical artist, was a more complex problem than Jess had
previously attempted. Then another factor entered into Mona's troubles;
for young David Moore, who for years had cherished an open and loudly
voiced admiration for her and between voyages always sought to woo her,
now came home and, finding the coast clear, renewed his attentions.

He was outspoken and assertive, full of enthusiasm and conceit. He
lacked refinement, but he was frugal and owned a third interest in his
uncle's fishing schooner and was very much in love with Mona. Worse than
that, her mother secretly favored his suit.

It may seem strange that the same practical sense of utility that
governed her girlhood's impulses and led her to accept a ready-at-hand
love, instead of waiting for an absent one, now sha