For an hour they trundled along through the snow-clad country chatting commonplaces, and then Alice said: "Did you meet the island girl last summer that you told me Bert had fallen in love with?"
"Only once," he replied. "Bert invited her and the old lady on board the 'Gypsy' and introduced them. They remained only long enough to look the yacht over. I left that day for Bethlehem, and as you know, came to Sandgate." His eyes were on her as he said this, and he noticed that an added color came to her face.
"What did you think of this girl?" asked Alice hastily; "tell me what she looks like--is she handsome?"
It is a woman's usual question, and a hard one for a man to answer, especially if the one who asks it is the girl he adores.
"She has a beautiful figure," he answered, "and eyes like yours, which you know are what I admire; only they are not so full of mischief. They have a far-away look that makes you think her thoughts are a thousand miles away."
"How was she dressed?" was the next query.
"Oh, I haven't the least idea," was the answer; "she might have worn calico for all I could tell. The only thing I can remember is that her dress was tight-fitting and very plain."
"Those far-away eyes must have entranced you, your description is so lucid," she replied sarcastically. Then she added: "How long did Bert stay there after you came away?"
"Only a few days," replied Frank; "I never asked him. I told him to keep and use the 'Gypsy' as long as he wanted and then I cut stick for Blanch and--Sandgate."
He seemed to dwell upon the little outing, and Alice, noticing it, and evasive ever, fought shy of the subject. She saw also that he was not aware of her brother's infatuation and from motives of delicacy forbore further questioning.
"Well, how do you like my haughty mother now?" he asked, "if that is a fair question."
It was not exactly a fair question, but conscious of the fact that she had tried to quiz him, Alice answered it frankly.
"I think she is the most gracefully charming hostess I ever met," she replied, "and you ought to be proud of her. In a way, I think you conveyed a wrong impression of her to me the first time I met you, and it has lasted ever since."
"I am sorry if I did," replied Frank honestly, "I did not mean to. Mother knows how to be very nice to any one she likes and very freezing to any one she doesn't. She fell in love with you the night you sang, and I knew she would. That is why I almost begged you on my knees to sing," he added earnestly, "so please do not scold me for, as you say, giving a wrong impression."