uttered a word of love to her, and how eagerly they had been
read again and again, and then treasured as priceless keepsakes, he
little realized. Neither did he know how many times she had lived over
each and every hour they had passed together, and recalled every word
and look and smile.

At times, when the cold desolation of winter was at its worst, she had
half regretted the sacrifice she had made, and only maidenly reserve had
kept her from writing him that her loneliness and heart-hunger were more
than she could bear.

She had no inkling of his coming on that dark and tempestuous evening,
and when Uncle Terry bade him enter the house, she was alone in the
sitting-room laying the table, while Aunt Lissy was in the kitchen
cooking supper. And then, just as she paused to listen to the thunder of
the giant waves, so near, she heard the click of the front door latch,
and stepping quickly into the little hall, as the door slowly opened,
she met the man who for five long months had never been absent from her
thoughts one moment.

A glad cry escaped her, and then--

But such a moment is too sacred for words; only it must be said it was
fortunate for both that Aunt Lissy was in the kitchen.

When that worthy soul came in and greeted Albert as cordially almost as
a mother, if she noticed Telly's red face and neck no one was the wiser,
and maybe it was due to the cheerful open fire after all.

And what a happy little party that was when Uncle Terry came in, and
after Telly, as usual, had brought his house coat and slippers, and they
were seated at the table! What mattered that the ocean surges thundered
so near, and at times tossed their angry tears against the windows!
Inside was light, and warmth, and love, and trust, and all that is
holiest and best in human emotions.

And when the meal was eaten, Uncle Terry and Albert smoked and talked
while the fire burned bright, and the little clock on the mantel ticked
the time away as clocks are bound to do, no matter how content we are.

When Albert had asked about the Widow Leach and Bascom, Deacon Oaks and
Mandy, heard all the little gossip of the Cape, and given his isolated
friends a brief synopsis of current events in the great world of which
they could hardly be considered a part, and the evening was two-thirds
past, he said:

"Now, my good friends, I have a little surprise in store for you," and
drawing from an inside pocket a bulky envelope, rising and crossing th