Quincy thought the fates had favored him in imposing upon him such a pleasant task. But where was she, and what could he do to amuse her? Then he thought, "We can sing together as we did yesterday."
He went down stairs to the parlor, thinking she might be there, but the room was empty. The fire was low, but the supply of wood was ample, and in a short time the great room was warm and comfortable. Quincy seated himself at the piano, played a couple of pieces and then sang a couple; he did not think while singing the second song that he had possibly transcended propriety, but when he sang the closing lines of "Alice, Where Art Thou?" it suddenly dawned upon him, and, full of vexation, he arose and walked to the window and looked out upon the howling storm.
Suddenly he heard a sweet voice say, "I am here." And then a low laugh reached his ear.
Turning, he saw Alice standing in the middle of the room, while Mandy's retreating figure showed who had been her escort. Her brother Ezekiel had rigged a bell wire from her room to the kitchen, so that she could call Mandy when she needed her assistance.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Pettengill," said Quincy, advancing towards her. "The song has always been a favorite of mine, but I never thought of its personal application until I reached the closing words. I trust you do not think I was so presuming as to—"
Alice smiled and said, "The song is also a favorite one of mine, Mr. Sawyer, and you sang it beautifully. No apologies are needed, for the fact is I was just saying to myself, 'Mr. Sawyer, where are you?' for 'Zekiel told me that he was going to speak to you and ask you to help me drive away those lonesome feelings that always come to me on a day like this. I cannot see the storm, but I can hear it and feel it."
As Quincy advanced towards her he saw she held several sheets of paper in her hand.
"I am at your service," said he. "I am only afraid that your requirements will exceed my ability."
"Very prettily spoken," said Alice, as Quincy led her to a seat by the fire, and took one himself. "I am going to confess to you," said she, "one of my criminal acts. I am going to ask you to sit as judge and mete out what you consider a suitable punishment for my offence."
"What crime have you committed?" asked Quincy gravely.