I have been educated as an American and that fully atones
for my apparent neglect. Your beautiful letters kept you always in my
mind, and I used to take great pleasure in telling my schoolmates
what a pretty mother I had."
Alice, despite her years, blushed.
"Quincy, you are like your father in praising those you love."
Tom gave Quincy's father graphic descriptions of the changes in
Fernborough and fully endorsed his friend's opinion of Mr. Strout.
"He's a snake in the grass," said Tom. "He'd pat you on the back with
one hand and cut your throat, figuratively speaking, with the other."
"Do you think he'd recognize me?" asked Quincy.
"I think not," said Tom. "His perceptive powers are not strong. He's
sub-acute rather than 'cute."
Quincy and Alice sat for hours looking out upon the wide expanse of
ocean, and at the blue sky above them. It did not seem possible that
so many years had passed since they were together. Memory is a great
friend. It bridged the great gap in their lives. They were lovers as
of yore, and would be always. They did not hesitate to talk of the
cruel past--not sadly, for were they not in the happy present?
Said Alice one morning, "While you were gone I was in a terribly
nervous condition. Aunt Ella said that I must have something to
employ my mind--and I wrote, or tried to write. I couldn't keep my
mind on one thing long enough to write a story, but I have collected
the material for one, and now that I am happy once more, when we have
settled down, I am going to write it.
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