"Good-by," said Aunt Ella; "if they don't treat you well come and stay with me and we will go to Old Orchard together about the first of June. I never skip out the last of April, because I always enjoy having a talk with the assessor when he comes around in May." When Rosa took her seat at the new desk next morning, she exclaimed with delight, "What a nice husband Mr. Sawyer would make!" "What makes you think so?" inquired Alice gravely. "Because he'd be such a good hand to go shopping," Rosa answered. "I've been all over this desk twice and I don't believe he has forgotten a single thing that we are likely to need." "Good work requires good tools," remarked Alice. "And a good workman," interposed Rosa. "Then we have every adjunct for success," said Alice, "and we will commence just where we left off at Mrs. Chessman's." The work on the book progressed famously. Alice was in fine mental condition and Rosa seemingly took as much interest in its progress as did her employer. In three weeks the three opening chapters had been written. "I wonder what Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Ernst will think of that?" said Alice, as Rosa wrote the last line of the third chapter. "I am going to write to Mr. Sawyer to-day. We must have those books before we can go much farther. Would it not be well to tell him that we are ready for our audience?" Alice assented, and the letter reached Quincy one Friday evening, it being his last call on his aunt before her departure for Old Orchard. "Give my love to both of them," said Aunt Ella, "and tell Alice I send her a kiss. I won't tell you how to deliver it; you will probably find some way before you come back." Quincy protested that he could not undertake to deliver it, but his aunt only laughed, kissed him, bade him good-by, and told him to be sure and come down to Maine to see her. Quincy and Leopold took the Saturday afternoon boat and arrived, as usual, about seven o'clock. They both repaired to the hotel previously patronized by Quincy, having decided to defer their call upon the young ladies until Sunday morning. It was a bright, beautiful day, not a cloud was to be seen in the broad, blue expanse above them. A cool breeze was blowing steadily from the southwest, and as the young men walked down Centre Street towards the Cliff, Leopold remarked that he did not wonder that the Nantucketers loved their "tight little isle" and were sorry to leave it. "One seems to be nearer Heaven here than he does in a crowded city, don't he, Quincy?" Quincy thought to himself that his Heaven was in Nantucket, and that he was very near to it, but he did not choose to utter these feelings to his friend, so he merely remarked that the sky did seem much nearer.