"You will find Miss Pettengill very exact in dictation," said Quincy to Rosa. "I took that long story there down in pencil, and I don't think I was obliged to change a dozen words."

"To work with Miss Pettengill," remarked Rosa, "will be more of a pleasure than a task."

This idea was re-echoed in Quincy's mind, and for a moment he had a feeling of positive envy towards Miss Very. Then he thought that hers was paid service, while his had been a labor--of love. Yes, it might as well be put that way.

The sun had sunk quite low in the west when the second story, Her Native Land, was completed. "How dramatic!" cried Rosa; "the endings of those chapters are as strong as stage tableaus."

"It is being dramatized by Jameson of the 'Daily Universe,'" said Quincy.

"I am well acquainted with Mr. Jameson," remarked Rosa; "I belong to a social club of which he is the president. He is a very talented young man and a great worker. He once told me that when he began newspaper work he wrote eighteen hours out of twenty-four for a month, and nearly every night he woke up and made notes that he wrote out in the morning.

Do you believe in unconscious mental cerebration, Mr. Sawyer?"

"I'm afraid not," replied Quincy, laughing; "I never had ideas enough to keep my brain busy all day, much less supply it with work at night."

"Mr. Sawyer is always unfair to himself," remarked Alice to Miss Very.

"As for myself, I will answer your question in the affirmative. I have often gone to bed with only the general idea of a story in my mind, and have awakened with the details all thought out and properly placed."

"I think it best to postpone the reading of the last story until after supper," said Quincy.

Alice a.s.sented, and, turning to Rosa, asked, "Do you like the country, Miss Very?"

"To speak honestly," replied Rosa, "I do not. I told Mr. Sawyer so on the train. It is hotter in the country than it is in the city. I can't bear the ticking of a clock in my room, and I think crickets and owls are more nerve-destroying than clocks, and I positively detest anything that buzzes and stings, like bees, and wasps, and hornets."

"But don't you like cows, and sheep, and horses?" asked Alice; "I love them."

"And I don't," said Rosa frankly. "I like beefsteak and roast lamb, but I never saw a cow that didn't have a ferocious glare in its eye when it looked at me." Both Quincy and Alice laughed heartily. "As for horses,"

continued Rosa, "I never drive alone. When I'm with some one I alternate between hope and fear until I reach my destination."

"I trust you were more hopeful than fearful on your way from Eastborough Centre," said Quincy.

"Oh! I saw at a glance," remarked Rosa, "that you were a skilful driver, and I trusted you implicitly."

"I have had to rely a great deal upon Mr. Sawyer," remarked Alice, "and, like yourself, I have always placed the greatest confidence in him.

Huldy told me this morning, Mr. Sawyer, that I would miss you very much, and I know I shall."

"But you will have Miss Very with you constantly," said Quincy.

"Oh! she does not like the country," continued Alice, "and she will get homesick in a little while."

"One's likes and one's duties often conflict," said Rosa; and a grave look settled upon her face. "But how can you write your book down here, Miss Pettengill? You will have to consult hundreds of books, if you intend to write an historical novel, as Mr. Sawyer told me you did. You ought to have access to the big libraries in Boston, and, besides, in the second-hand bookstores you can buy such treasures for a mere song, if you will only spend the time to hunt for them."

"That reminds me," broke in Quincy, "that my aunt, Mrs. Chessman,--she is my mother's only sister, who lives on Mt. Vernon Street,--wished me to extend a cordial invitation to you two young ladies to visit her, while I am getting your summer home ready for you. She suggests Nantucket as the best place for work, but with every opportunity for enjoyment, when work becomes a burden."

"Oh, that will be delightful," cried Rosa. "I love the sea, and there we shall have it all around us; and at night, the great dome of Heaven, studded with stars, will reach down to the sea on every side, and they say at 'Sconset, on the east end of the island, that when the breakers come in the sight is truly magnificent."

Quincy was inwardly amused at Rosa's enthusiasm, but it served his purpose to encourage it, so he said, "I wish Aunt Ella were her to join forces with Miss Very. You would find it hard work to resist both of them, Miss Pettengill."

"You mean all three of you," said Alice, with a smile.

"If we go to Nantucket," added Rosa, "I shall have to spend a week in the city, and perhaps more. I have no dresses suitable for so long a residence at the beach."

"Neither have I," coincided Alice, with a laugh.

There the matter was dropped. Quincy knew too much, to press the question to a decision that evening. He had learned by experience that Alice never said yes or no until her mind was made up, and he knew that the answer was more likely to be favorable if he gave her plenty of time for reflection; besides, he thought that Alice might wish to know more particularly what his aunt said, for she would be likely to consider that his aunt must have some reason for giving such an invitation to two persons who were virtually strangers to her.

After supper, the third story, How He Lost Both Name and Fortune, was read and corrected, and it was the unusually late hour of eleven o'clock before the lights in the Pettengill house were extinguished. It was past midnight when Quincy sought his room at Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house, and the picture of Alice Pettengill, that he had purloined so long ago, stood on a little table at the head of his bed, leaning against a large family Bible, which he found in the room.

The next morning he was up early, and visited the grocery store. Mr.

Strout and Hiram both a.s.sured him that business had picked up amazingly, and was really "splendid." The new wagons were building up trade very fast. Billy Ricker went over to Montrose for orders Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, and delivered them in the afternoons. This gave Abbott Smith a chance to post up the books on those days, for he had been made bookkeeper. He went to Eastborough Centre and Westvale, the new name given to West Eastborough at the last town meeting, Tuesday, Thursday, and Sat.u.r.day mornings. He delivered goods on the afternoons of those days, which gave him an opportunity to spend Sunday at home with his father and his family.

When Quincy reached the Pettengill house, Mrs. Maxwell informed him that Miss Pettengill was in the parlor alone. After greeting Alice, Quincy asked, "But where is Miss Very?"

"I told her I should not need her services until after I had seen you,"

she replied. "I have a question to ask you Mr. Sawyer, and I know you will give me a truthful answer. What led your aunt to invite me to come and visit her?"

Quincy knew that Alice had been considering the matter, and this one simple question, to which she expected a truthful answer, was the crucial test.

He did not hesitate in replying. If he did, he knew the result would be fatal to his hopes.

"Only the promptings of her own good nature. She is one of the warmest-hearted women in the world," continued Quincy. "I will tell you just how it happened. I told her I had found an a.s.sistant to help you in your work, and that the next thing was to fix upon a place for a summer residence. I asked her opinion, and after considering the advantages and disadvantages of a score of places, she finally settled upon Nantucket as being the most desirable. Then she said, 'While you are finding a place and getting it ready for them, ask Miss Pettengill to come and visit me and bring her friend. Tell her that I am rich, as far as money goes, but poor in love and companionship. Tell them both that I shall love to have them come and will do everything I can to make their visit a pleasant one.' Those were her words as nearly as I can remember them;"

and Quincy waited silently for the decision.

It soon came. Alice went to him and extended her hand, which Quincy took.

"Tell her," said Alice in her quiet way, "that I thank her very much and that we will come."

"How soon?" inquired Quincy anxiously and rather abruptly.

"In a few days," replied Alice. "I can get ready much sooner with Miss Very to help me."

She withdrew the hand, which she had unconsciously allowed to remain in his so long, and a slight flush mounted to her cheek, for Quincy had equally unconsciously given it a gentle pressure as he relinquished it.

"I must do up these proofs," said he, going to the table. "I will get the next train to Boston. I will be back to-morrow noon, and in the afternoon I will drive over to Montrose about that deed of the Putnam house. I know Aunt Ella will be delighted to hear that you are coming."

But he said nothing about his own delight at being the bearer of the tidings.

When he had gone, Alice sat in her chair as she had many a time before and thought. As she sat there she realized more strongly than she had ever done that if Fate was marking out her course for her, it had certainly chosen as its chief instrument the masterful young man who had just left her.

The remainder of that day and the morning of the next Alice spent in dictating to Rosa a crude general outline of Blennerha.s.sett. During the work she was obliged, naturally, to address Rosa many times, and uniformly called her Miss Very. Finally Rosa said, "Wouldn't you just as soon call me Rosa? Miss Very seems so stiff and formal."

"I hope you will not consider me uncompanionable or set in my ways,"

remarked Alice. "We are working, you know, and not playing," she continued with a sweet smile. "I have no doubt you are worthy of both my esteem and love, but I have known you less than a day and such things come slowly with me. Let me call you Miss Very, because you are that to me now. When the time comes, as I feel it will, to call you Rosa, it shall come from a full heart. When I call you Rosa, it will be because I love you, and, after that, nothing will ever change my feelings towards you."

"I understand you," replied Rosa. "I will work and wait."

Quincy arrived at about the same time of day that he did when he came with Rosa. Miss Very had gone to her room, so that he saw Alice alone.

He told her that his aunt was greatly pleased at her acceptance and would be ready to receive her at any time that it was convenient for her to come. He proffered his services to aid her in getting ready for the journey, but she told him that with Miss Very's help she would need no other a.s.sistance.

"I have another matter of business to speak about," continued she, "and if you will kindly attend to that, when you go to Montrose, it will oblige me very much. You are always doing something to make me your debtor," she added with a smile.