"Oh, you nice boy to confess it. Are you going to walk home with me and help me carry my bundles? You have such an insignificant little one compared to mine."
"Only some little tubes of colors I went up on the noon boat to get. I can put them in my pocket and I'll gladly carry all yours."
"I am willing to take my share of the burdens; I am young," returned Gwen with a swift look that made the man's heart beat fast, for what underlying promise was there not in her words, the more emphasized as the blue eyes drooped softly and she turned shyly away under his ardent gaze.
At last the steamer stopped at the lower wharf, and the two took the path along a way odorous with sweet grass and bracken, then over the long white road they travelled slowly, up the little incline, past Cap'n Ben's house and through the stile to the pasture, talking merrily of light things.
Just before reaching Cap'n Ben's they saw Ethel and Mr. Mitchell coming home from the rocks. Gwen waved her umbrella and called out to them; they answered cheerily and both went toward Almira Green's. Further on they saw Luther Williams and stopped to speak to him. "Isn't it the most wonderful evening?" said Gwen, her face aglow. "We've had the loveliest of trips coming home on the boat."
"She's rather late to-night," said Mr. Williams.
"Is she?" returned Gwen innocently. "I thought the time unusually short." Then she colored and laughed softly. "I shall see you to-morrow, dear Daddy Lu," she whispered.
At the porch Kenneth lingered. "May I bring you the picture in the morning?" he asked.
"Will you? I hope you will, for I shall not feel quite safe till you do."
"How safe?"