“Pardon me,” said Quincy. “I understand. Come to Boston next week, to the State House, and I will see that you have the best of treatment.” “Wall, Mr. Sawyer, it does one's eyes good to set 'em on you again. This is Olive Green,--you remember her sister Betsey worked for me when you was one of my boarders.” The woman's voice was loud and strident, and filled the room. “Mrs. Hawkins, I shall never forget you and Miss Betsey Green, and how you both tried to make my stay with you a pleasant one.” “You've put on consid'rable flesh since I saw yer last. Guess you've been taking your meals reg'lar, which you never did when you lived with me. But your market's made now, and that makes the difference. They say folks in love have poor appetites.” She laughed loudly, and stopped only when Olive put a restraining hand on her arm. “I hope Alice is a good cook, but she never had much chance to learn.” Quincy thought it was time to change the subject. “How's Mr. Hawkins?” “I tell him he's just as lazy as ever. He's kalkerlatin' on getting three good broods of chickens. He's gone on chickens. He wanted to come tonight, but we've lots of boarders, and they're allus wantin' ice water or somethin' else, and so I told him he'd got to stay to home. You'll have plenty of time to see him to-morrer.” Many others greeted the Governor and his right hand felt the effect of so many hearty grips, some of them of the horny-handed variety. The Cottonton Brass Band was now stationed in the hall, and a short concert closed the evening's entertainment, which was allowed, by all, to be the most high-toned affair ever given in the town. As Quincy laid his head upon his pillow that night, his mind reverted to his first arrival at Mason's Corner, and the events that had taken place since. “Alice, five years ago, could your wildest imagination have conjured up such an evening as this?” “No, Quincy. What has taken place in our lives is truly wonderful. My daily prayer is that these happy days may last.” CHAPTER II A DAY WITH THE GOVERNOR Governor Sawyer sat in the Executive Chamber at the State House. It was eleven o'clock on the morning following the festivities at Fernborough. Quincy and Alice had staid over night at the Hawkins' House, and Ezekiel in the morning urged them strongly to wait a day and see what great improvements he had made on the old farm which had been so neglected during the last years of Mrs. Putnam's life. But Quincy said his presence in Boston was imperative, that certain matters required his attention, and so the earliest train brought him and his wife to the city. Quincy left the carriage under the arch at the State House. Alice was driven to the well-known house on Mount Vernon Street, in which Aunt Ella had lived so long, but which had lost much of its cheerfulness, and all of its Bohemianism since that lady had gone to England and become Lady Fernborough.