"Bless his dear heart," said Alice, when she read the letter, "what a prize that island girl will get in him!" And then she came near crying at the thought of that possible outcome. But when Christmas came and she kissed Aunt Susan good-by, she was near giving up the trip altogether. It may have been the sad face of her aunt that brought the irresolution, or a feeling that meeting Frank would re-awaken the little heartache she had for five months been trying to conquer; for this proud girl had firmly made up her mind that she would utter a very decided "no" if Frank proposed again. When she reached Boston she was met by her brother, and for three days he devoted his entire time to her.
"I have not told Frank, even, when you were coming," he observed, "and shall not let them know you are here until we call." Then he added, smiling, "I want you to myself for a few days, because after Frank knows you are here I am sure to be one too many most of the time."
"Not on his account, you'll not be," replied Alice with a snap, and it is likely that moment she meant it too.
And what a gallant escort that brother was! And what a change from the dull monotony of her home life those days were to Alice!
They hunted for houses and visited art galleries mornings, lunched at Parker's at noon, and devoted the afternoons and evenings to theatres. Then after that usually a tête-à-tête supper at a cozy place where the best was to be had, and a little chat in his or her room before retiring. It was during one of these brief visits that she noticed some of the pictures that hung in his room.
"Who painted that shipwreck scene?" she asked, looking at one. "It is a gem, and those poor sailors clinging to the ice-covered rigging are enough to make one shiver. And those awful waves, too, are simply terrifying. And what a pretty scene is this wild tangle of rocks with a girl leaning on one and looking out on the ocean where the sun is setting or rising," she continued as she viewed the next one. Then as she examined it a little closer she added, "Who is E. T.?" Albert made no answer and she passed to a third one showing a little rippled cove with the ocean beyond and a girl seated in the shade of a small spruce tree.
"Why, this is by E. T. too," she exclaimed, and turning to her brother she repeated, "who is E. T.?"
"Well," he answered, "I will take you down to the island some time and introduce you to her. She will be glad to meet my sister, you may be certain."
Then it all flashed over Alice, and the brief history of this girl, as her brother had told it, came back to her in an instant. "So that was the wreck she floated ashore from, was it, Bert?" she asked; "and can she paint like that? Why, I am astonished! And who is the girl leaning on the rock?" she added; "and what an exquisitely molded figure! And what a pretty pose! Who is she?"
"That is your possible sister-in-law," answered Albert with a touch of pride, "and the pictures were done by her from sketches I first made myself. They are true to life so far as all details go, only I failed to catch her expressive face in the one that shows a front view of her."