"I know a man who gets five hundred dollars for the smallest of his pictures," said Gwen, "and for the big ones he gets several thousand."
The captain cast his shrewd eyes upon her, and gave a chuckle. "You think mine's too big a fish story, do ye? and you're going to get ahead of me. All right, I'll believe you when I see the checks."
They had reached the white house by this time. The vines climbing up the trellis at the side were putting forth young buds. Small green shoots were beginning to appear in the garden which covered the southern slope of the hill. Beyond the slope groups of fir trees stretched their pointed tips toward the sky. Upon the hummocky ground which undulated between the stile and the sea, the brown reaches of grass were giving place to a tender emerald-hued growth, violet-strewn in patches. Upon the gray lichen-covered rocks which had failed to gather sufficient soil for a holding of grass roots, a few fugitive strawberry plants had lodged, and were already combining their green of leaf and red of stem with the soft neutral tints surrounding them. Further away the line of cottages faced the sea which sparkled and danced in the afternoon light. The sound of hammers coming from the most distant of the cottages betokened the carpenters at work. Mingled with this staccato was the rush of waves beating against the rocky shore, but above all was the sweetly insistent note of a song-sparrow, "sitting alone on the housetop."
Gwen looked around and breathed a long sigh. "Now I know how beautiful it is," she said. "I'd like to explore it all at once. How can I wait?"
"There is plenty of time," returned her aunt, as they followed the captain into the house.
But it was only a few minutes that they spent inside, just long enough to speak to Miss Phenie and Miss Phosie, to rid themselves of superfluous wraps and to drop their hand luggage, then out they went into the fresh air, full of the tang of the sea, but sweet with the odors of the new spring. Through the stile to Cap'n Ben's pasture their way led over the hummocks to the point where a small cove made in, separating Simms' Point from that upon which the new cottage was going up.
"Before I give one look at the cottage," said Gwen taking her stand upon a flat rock just below the porch, "I want to observe a little of this outside world. What a view! You have seen it before, Aunt Cam, and you can watch them drive nails if you like. As for me I shall feast my eyes first."
"Very well," said her aunt, "I shall have plenty of time to do that after a while. What I am most concerned about now is the setting of those windows. I am almost sure they are too high, though I specially stipulated that they were to be but twenty-one inches from the floor. Come in when you are ready, Gwen."
She carefully picked her way across the floor beams of the porch and entered the cottage, leaving Gwen standing on the craggy point of rocks, gazing seaward. Directly ahead was the unbroken expanse of ocean, its far horizon dotted by a few white sails. To the right lay Simms' Point, a freshly green slope which further up ended in a growth of sombre firs. Beyond the point a lighthouse was visible, and a small island over which a solitary tree kept watch. To the left a misty line of shore curved tenderly to embrace the waters of the bay whose further islands melted into the mainland, but whose nearer ones gemmed the deep blue of the water.
"How beautiful it is! How beautiful!" breathed Gwen. "I never dreamed it would be so lovely. And to think I am to have a whole summer of it! That is almost too good to be true." She delicately made her way over the jutting ledges of rock and sought her aunt whom she found in lively debate with the builder.