“That reminds me,” broke in Quincy, “that my aunt, Mrs. Chessman,—­she is my mother’s only sister, who lives on Mt.  Vernon Street,—­wished me to extend a cordial invitation to you two young ladies to visit her, while I am getting your summer home ready for you.  She suggests Nantucket as the best place for work, but with every opportunity for enjoyment, when work becomes a burden.”

“Oh, that will be delightful,” cried Rosa.  “I love the sea, and there we shall have it all around us; and at night, the great dome of Heaven, studded with stars, will reach down to the sea on every side, and they say at ’Sconset, on the east end of the island, that when the breakers come in the sight is truly magnificent.”

Quincy was inwardly amused at Rosa’s enthusiasm, but it served his purpose to encourage it, so he said, “I wish Aunt Ella were her to join forces with Miss Very.  You would find it hard work to resist both of them, Miss Pettengill.”

“You mean all three of you,” said Alice, with a smile.

“If we go to Nantucket,” added Rosa, “I shall have to spend a week in the city, and perhaps more.  I have no dresses suitable for so long a residence at the beach.”

“Neither have I,” coincided Alice, with a laugh.

There the matter was dropped.  Quincy knew too much, to press the question to a decision that evening.  He had learned by experience that Alice never said yes or no until her mind was made up, and he knew that the answer was more likely to be favorable if he gave her plenty of time for reflection; besides, he thought that Alice might wish to know more particularly what his aunt said, for she would be likely to consider that his aunt must have some reason for giving such an invitation to two persons who were virtually strangers to her.

After supper, the third story, How He Lost Both Name and Fortune, was read and corrected, and it was the unusually late hour of eleven o’clock before the lights in the Pettengill house were extinguished.  It was past midnight when Quincy sought his room at Mrs. Hawkins’s boarding house, and the picture of Alice Pettengill, that he had purloined so long ago, stood on a little table at the head of his bed, leaning against a large family Bible, which he found in the room.

The next morning he was up early, and visited the grocery store.  Mr. Strout and Hiram both assured him that business had picked up amazingly, and was really “splendid.”  The new wagons were building up trade very fast.  Billy Ricker went over to Montrose for orders Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, and delivered them in the afternoons.  This gave Abbott Smith a chance to post up the books on those days, for he had been made bookkeeper.  He went to Eastborough Centre and Westvale, the new name given to West Eastborough at the last town meeting, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday mornings.  He delivered goods on the afternoons of those days, which gave him an opportunity to spend Sunday at home with his father and his family.