When Quincy reached the Pettengill house, Mrs. Maxwell informed him that Miss Pettengill was in the parlor alone.  After greeting Alice, Quincy asked, “But where is Miss Very?”

“I told her I should not need her services until after I had seen you,” she replied.  “I have a question to ask you Mr. Sawyer, and I know you will give me a truthful answer.  What led your aunt to invite me to come and visit her?”

Quincy knew that Alice had been considering the matter, and this one simple question, to which she expected a truthful answer, was the crucial test.

He did not hesitate in replying.  If he did, he knew the result would be fatal to his hopes.

“Only the promptings of her own good nature.  She is one of the warmest-hearted women in the world,” continued Quincy.  “I will tell you just how it happened.  I told her I had found an assistant to help you in your work, and that the next thing was to fix upon a place for a summer residence.  I asked her opinion, and after considering the advantages and disadvantages of a score of places, she finally settled upon Nantucket as being the most desirable.  Then she said, ’While you are finding a place and getting it ready for them, ask Miss Pettengill to come and visit me and bring her friend.  Tell her that I am rich, as far as money goes, but poor in love and companionship.  Tell them both that I shall love to have them come and will do everything I can to make their visit a pleasant one.’  Those were her words as nearly as I can remember them;” and Quincy waited silently for the decision.

It soon came.  Alice went to him and extended her hand, which Quincy took.

“Tell her,” said Alice in her quiet way, “that I thank her very much and that we will come.”

“How soon?” inquired Quincy anxiously and rather abruptly.

“In a few days,” replied Alice.  “I can get ready much sooner with Miss Very to help me.”

She withdrew the hand, which she had unconsciously allowed to remain in his so long, and a slight flush mounted to her cheek, for Quincy had equally unconsciously given it a gentle pressure as he relinquished it.

“I must do up these proofs,” said he, going to the table.  “I will get the next train to Boston.  I will be back to-morrow noon, and in the afternoon I will drive over to Montrose about that deed of the Putnam house.  I know Aunt Ella will be delighted to hear that you are coming.”  But he said nothing about his own delight at being the bearer of the tidings.

When he had gone, Alice sat in her chair as she had many a time before and thought.  As she sat there she realized more strongly than she had ever done that if Fate was marking out her course for her, it had certainly chosen as its chief instrument the masterful young man who had just left her.

The remainder of that day and the morning of the next Alice spent in dictating to Rosa a crude general outline of Blennerhassett.  During the work she was obliged, naturally, to address Rosa many times, and uniformly called her Miss Very.  Finally Rosa said, “Wouldn’t you just as soon call me Rosa?  Miss Very seems so stiff and formal.”