And here it is time and fit to speak of her brother, toward whom her heart had always turned when in trouble, and not in vain. Of the jest that Frank had made regarding the island girl Albert had fallen in love with, she thought but little. That he might marry in due time she expected as a matter of course; that it would make any difference in his feelings towards her she did not for one moment consider. Now she fell to thinking what a void it would make in her life if his thoughts and affection were centred elsewhere. Then she began wondering why he had failed to write as often as usual during the past six weeks. She had known his plans for the yachting-trip and imagined his letter announcing its failure and his return to work an expression of disappointment. Since then he had written but once, telling her that he was overwhelmed with business and enclosing a check, but failing to enclose any but the briefest expression of love. Life with Alice was at best a lonesome one, and Sunday, with its simple services in the village church, the singing in the choir, and pleasant nods from all she met, the only break in its monotony. Now during summer vacation time it was worse than ever, and she began counting the days until school opened again. Once, with Aunt Susan for company, she had visited the old mill-pond, and rowing the boat herself, had gathered an ample supply of lilies, only to come home so depressed she did not speak once during the four-mile drive. She had written Frank an account of the trip, but failed to mention that she had landed at a certain point and sat on the bank and shed a few tears while Aunt Susan waited in the boat and sorted the lilies. She had enclosed a wee little lily bud in this letter, but not a word by which he could infer that her heart was very hungry for--some one. [Illustration: THE OLD MILL] But all things, and all series of days, be they filled with joy or sorrow, come to an end, and so did the lonely vacation days of Alice. When the school gathered once more, and the daily round of simple recitations began, she realized as never before how blessed a thing it is in this world that we can have occupation. And even more blessed to Alice Page, whose proud heart was a little hungry for love. CHAPTER XXXIII OLD AND YOUNG A week after Uncle Terry's return from Boston he asked Telly to go with him on his daily drive to the head of the island. He had described the exciting incidents of his trip both to his wife and Telly, and, feeling obliged to do so, had told them that Mr. Page had taken charge of the case and would communicate with him when anything definite was learned. He had noticed that Telly had seemed unusually cheerful ever since, and likewise more affectionate. Also--a fact that did not escape his observant eyes--that she had at once set about painting the two sketches Albert had sent.