"so you thought that because we were having such a good time in bermuda, we had forgotten all about the mystery!" laughed margaret, the next afternoon, at the grand assembly of the antiquarian club. they were all gathered in the charlton street parlor—all but mr. cameron. he had, indeed, fully expected to be present, not intending to go to his office till the following day. but unexpected business had called him there, after all, so he could only send his hearty regrets to the meeting of the club. it seemed like old times for the young folks to be together again in this familiar room. the only wonderful difference was in margaret. no longer was she ensconced in her accustomed wheel-chair, but in a big "comfy" armchair, with her cherished256 crutches leaning against its arm. no longer did she seem a wan, frail, delicate little invalid, but a brown, rosy, plump, and increasingly energetic young person. but the sweetness of her smile and the shy, trusting expression of her big gray eyes had not changed.
"yes, i know you all must have thought we'd forgotten it," she went on; "but we hadn't—not for a minute! only, for several weeks, we didn't seem to make any progress with it at all. we used to inquire of every native bermudian we met if he or she had ever heard of any one living there by the name of trenham; but no one seemed to have any ideas at all about it. they'd say they hadn't heard of the name themselves, but would always refer you to some one else, who would turn out to know as little as they did! it was awfully discouraging! finally, mr. cameron suggested that the only way would probably be to go around to all the different parish churches and consult the old parish registers for the lists of births and marriages and deaths. he thought the name had probably257 died out long ago, and perhaps no relatives or descendants remained, or were even remembered.
"well, this seemed a big piece of work, of course, and none of us felt quite like attempting it just then, for mr. cameron wasn't yet a bit well himself, and i was having treatments every day with the big doctor in hamilton. so we decided to put it off for a while. and then—meantime—a very unexpected thing happened!
"you know, we were staying at a big hotel about four miles from hamilton, near harrington sound. mr. cameron likes it there because it's out of the city, well away from everything distracting, like the things going on in hamilton. part of this hotel is big and new, but another section, where the dining-room is, has been standing for over two hundred years. you can see how old it is by its very looks, and we heard that it was really the old homestead of the proprietor's ancestors.
"the housekeeper is a dear, kindly lady,258 and we got rather well acquainted with her, because often we had to ask her for different and rather unusual things for me. she was just lovely to me, always, and after a while we had some long, interesting talks with her about bermuda and the different families living there. and once she took us up to her own apartments, in the old part of the house, and showed us a collection of the most wonderful old furniture and antiques that had been in her own and her husband's families since way, way back. corinne and her father went just wild over them, for you know how they love antiques!
"well, one day we thought we'd ask her if she'd ever heard of any one on the island by the name of trenham. she said no, she hadn't, but, if we were interested to find out, she'd take us over to the south shore to see a very old lady there who knew lots and lots about bermuda history and former people. she said she was driving to hamilton that morning on some business, but would first take us over to the jewell farm, introduce us to259 old mrs. jewell, go on to hamilton, and come back to get us later. she declared that the old lady would be delighted to have us come, because she was blind now and had very little to entertain her, and she loved to talk to people.
"this seemed too good a chance to lose, and corinne and i accepted at once. mr. cameron had gone off on a fishing-trip, so he couldn't be included. we piled into the big, comfy carriage, and you ought to see that great, strapping driver lift me in and out and carry me around! well, we got to the jewell farm over on the south shore, and, oh, folks! how i wish you could all see that place! it's simply the most charming old house—two hundred and fifty years old!—set high on a hill overlooking that marvelous blue ocean, with a garden all around it that is like the things you dream about! we took some pictures of the house and garden which i'll show you later, but they don't do it anything like justice. you can only get a faint idea of its real beauty!
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"and the whole house, inside, was filled with the dearest old-time furniture! it nearly set corinne crazy! but never mind about all that now—we must come to the best part! the driver carried me in, and we were introduced to the sweetest old lady you ever saw! she was nearly ninety-five, with snow-white hair; and a dainty lace cap over it. her eyes were pretty and blue, and you'd hardly guess, to look at her, that she couldn't see a thing. if she'd known us all her life, she couldn't have received us more cordially, or seemed less surprised to have complete strangers landed on her without any warning. she made us feel at home and acquainted right away, and after a few moments the housekeeper left us alone with her and went on to hamilton.
"we didn't like to introduce the subject we were most interested in right away, so we chatted with her about her lovely old home, and the furniture in it, and its history. after a while, though, when we could bring it in naturally, we asked her if she had ever known any one by the name of trenham in bermuda.261 she gave the most curious little start, but only said very quietly:
"'i would like to know why you ask? whom do you know of that name?' well, corinne and i looked at each other and i saw we were agreed that it was time to make a bold move, so i said right out that we were very much interested in some one who lived in bermuda a long while ago and whose name was alison trenham.
"folks, if i live to be a hundred, i'll never forget the strange expression that came over that old lady's face when i spoke that name! for a minute or two she didn't answer—just sat quietly thinking. then at last she said, still very quietly:
"'yes, i know the name! i have heard of only one alison trenham in my life, and that was—my grandmother!'"
there was a gasp and a start from her listeners, and margaret laughed as she continued:
"you'd just better believe we jumped, too! and i thought corinne's eyes would pop out262 of her head—she looked so startled! i just couldn't help smiling to myself at her expression, though i was so deep in other things. then i said:
"'well, mrs. jewell, since you do know an alison trenham, and she was your own grandmother, i guess we'd just better tell you our whole story. for the two alisons may turn out to be the same!' then, as quickly as i could, i told her all about finding the trunk and the journal, and our antiquarian club, and all the discoveries we made afterward, and how we'd come to a snag and could get no further. i even told her how sarah had burned the original journal. but i didn't say a word about the sapphire signet—just then. i wish you could have seen the expression on her face all the time i was talking! it was as though she were listening to a story so strange that she couldn't believe a word of it! i ended by begging her, please, if she could throw the least light on our mystery, to oblige us by doing so, as it was the chief aim of our antiquarian club to find the key to the riddle!
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"she was silent a long time after i had finished—so long that we were beginning to think she must have fallen asleep, for she had covered her eyes with her hand, and was leaning her elbow on the arm of the chair. but suddenly she spoke, saying very low:
"'all this seems like a dream to me! you children have stumbled upon a secret that i supposed no mortal would ever discover in this world! the ways of chance are very mysterious! yes, it is the same alison; and since you know so much, i am going to tell you the rest of the story, though she made me solemnly promise, when i was a young girl, that i would never tell a soul. that is why i was hesitating. but i feel certain that, were she to know these circumstances, she would have no real objection to your knowing the whole story. it can harm no one now—least of all herself!
"'as i told you, she was my grandmother. i was born in 1820, and she was then a woman sixty years old. my own mother and father died in my infancy, and left me to her care. this was her home, this same old farm, and i264–266 came here to live with her. we are a long-lived race, here in bermuda, and she lived on to be almost ninety-five, as i myself am doing! a few years before she died she told me that she had something on her conscience that she would like to tell me, because she felt that she would die happier, knowing that she had not kept the secret unconfessed to the end. she made me promise i would never disclose it, as some of it had once been of political consequence, and she had always feared its discovery.'
"and now, folks, i'm going to tell you the story of alison in my own words, because i can't remember all of hers!" ended margaret. then she re-settled herself in her big chair and began anew, very much flattered by the breathless attention of her auditors.
slow to answer
"for a minute or two she didn't answer"
"alison trenham lived on this same old farm with her grandfather, archibald trenham. her parents had both been lost at sea when she was little, and that's why she was living with him. he was a queer, crabby sort of an old man, and had never loved alison267 because he was so disappointed she hadn't been a boy. she was a big, beautiful-looking, athletic girl, and he had had her taught to ride, and swim, and sail a boat, and do most of the things boys generally do, besides learning to read and write and some latin and french. it was his whim that she should be educated like a boy, even if she wasn't one.
"but she was restless and discontented and headstrong, and hated her life there with her grandfather, and wanted the worst way to go away from bermuda altogether and see some of the world. she had an aunt, a madame pennington, living down at flatts (that's right where our hotel was), and a cousin betty, and she was very fond of them both. the aunt was like a mother to her, and spoiled her a lot. well, alison confided to her aunt that she wanted to go away from bermuda, but that her grandfather wouldn't hear of it. and she said she was so crazy to go that sometime she was going to run away!
"the aunt was very much shocked, but268 finally alison begged her so hard that she consented to write to a friend of hers in new york, a madame mortier, and get her to invite alison up there for a long visit. madame mortier wrote back that she would be delighted to have alison come, especially as her husband had just lately died and she was very lonely. so that much was arranged, and alison was delighted. but the difficulty was to get away from bermuda without her grandfather knowing, for he would never have consented. alison discovered a way out of this herself, and here comes the exciting part! alexander, you were right, after all, as you'll see in a moment!"
"oh, your uncle dudley's right sometimes," grumbled that irrepressible youngster, trying to conceal his satisfaction.
"now, to go on. one day alison happened to meet, quite unexpectedly, a neighbor of theirs, a young fellow named harrington ord—"
"'h'!" shouted the listening ones, simultaneously.
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"yes, you're right! that was 'h'! he had been away on a cruise with his uncle, george ord, in his uncle's ship, the lady. harrington said they had only touched at st. george's for a day or so to take on a cargo of salt, and would then be off again for america. then alison saw her chance. she begged harrington to ask his uncle if she might be taken aboard to go with them without letting her grandfather know. she knew the uncle and her grandfather had some standing quarrel between them, and that george ord would not be sorry to do anything to get the best of the old man. harrington hesitated about it, then finally confided to her the news that his uncle was engaged in a strange plot—"
"the gunpowder!" exclaimed the audience.
"yes, the very thing! alexander was exactly right in his guess! george ord was planning to steal the gunpowder the very next night, and all the details were arranged except one thing, and that was puzzling them all dreadfully. it was this: the governor slept with270 the keys of the magazine under his pillow, and how to get at them without disturbing him, nobody could think. some one had suggested putting a heavy sleeping-powder in his food, but that was all but impossible, as no one knew any of his servants or could get into his kitchen. harrington had the powder in his pocket, and, at his wits' end, he showed it to alison. she had an idea right away. she told him to give it to her, and she would see that it got to its proper destination all right, if, in return, his uncle would take her secretly to america.
"he declared that his uncle would be only too delighted to reward her in that way, and everything was arranged. she was to go next day to her aunt's as if for a week's visit. that same afternoon she would take a little cat-boat and sail by herself up to st. george's, and be taken aboard the lady at sundown, as she was setting sail, and when no one was observing. but first she intended to stop at the governor's mansion and make a call on his niece, whom she knew rather well.
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"everything went off like clockwork! her grandfather suspected nothing. she got to her aunt's and bade her good-by, sailed up to st. george's in her little dinghy, called on the governor's niece, and, before she left, went down to the kitchen to see the colored cook dinah, who was a sister of her grandfather's cook and was rather fond of alison. she found, just as she had expected, that dinah was preparing the governor's little afternoon snack of cake and a glass of wine. when dinah wasn't looking, she quietly dropped the powder in the wine, and the game was won! later, as she went out, she saw him drinking it.
"well, the governor slept like a log that night, and you all know how successful the rest of the scheme was! captain ord was so grateful to alison that he couldn't do enough for her. he landed in new york, and harrington escorted her to richmond hill, the home of madame mortier. the old song, 'the lass of richmond hill,' was very popular just then, and harrington kept teasing alison272 by whistling and singing it constantly, and saying she was now that 'lass'!
"madame mortier was lovely to her at first, and seemed delighted to have her there. but alison didn't have a very lively time, because madame mortier lived a very secluded and quiet life, and her house was way off from the city, and she never went anywhere. and alison found out, too, that she was a strict tory, and hated washington and the rebels, and felt very bitter about the war that was just commencing. now, alison had heard a lot about washington from captain ord and harrington, who both admired him terrifically, and she herself had begun to feel a great respect for the rebel leader. but when she spoke in praise of him, one day, madame mortier just 'jumped on her,' as alexander would say, and almost went crazy denouncing him.
"well, by and by alison began to feel dreadfully lonely and homesick, and just longed to go back to bermuda, and wished she'd never come away! but getting back was more difficult than coming to new york. she didn't273 like to tell madame mortier she was tired of her and wanted to leave, for she had been invited to stay a year, at least, as a companion to the old lady. then something happened that changed the whole face of affairs for her—two things, in fact!
"a sailor from captain ord's ship turned traitor some months after the gunpowder affair, and in corbie's tavern let it all out and told how alison had been mixed up in the plot,—or at least, that he suspected she was, for he didn't actually know about her drugging the governor. this got round to the steward, whom we all know about, and finally was hinted at by him to madame mortier. she began to treat poor alison very coldly and suspiciously, without, however, telling her the real reason. she evidently thought alison was some kind of a spy! and alison never guessed the reason till harrington gave her the hint that night under her window.
"anyhow, that was when she first began to feel uneasy, and as if things had changed in the house and she was not altogether safe there.274 but the climax came when one stormy winter day she and madame mortier were driving home along greenwich road and saw ahead of them a coach whose wheel had come off and whose horses were snorting and kicking with fright. the driver could seem to do nothing with them. alison got out, rushed to the horses, and held them steady till they quieted down. she knew horses well and just how to treat them. then, while the wheel was being adjusted, she spoke to the occupant of the coach, who proved to be none other than lady washington!
"she was traveling through the city on her way from virginia to her husband's camp outside boston when the accident happened. she congratulated alison on her skill with horses, and asked her about herself. alison was just beginning to tell her about bermuda and how she longed to go back, when madame mortier, who had just learned about the occupant of the broken coach, rushed up and dragged her bodily away! and then things got worse and worse!
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"now, there's no need of telling you all that happened after that because we know it; so i'll skip at once to the night of that last entry in the journal, and explain how it came to be so mysteriously broken off. while alison was sitting there writing, she suddenly heard again the mysterious footsteps, just as she had that time before. she was horribly nervous, but she suspected something wrong and crept to the door and opened it to peep out. and there, sure enough, was the steward, come back from corbie's tavern, and evidently going down to the cellar again! alison was scared to death, but, almost unconsciously, she found herself creeping after him, her journal still in her hand.
"suddenly on the stairs something made him turn—and he saw her! before she could cry out he made one leap and clapped his hand over her mouth. then with the other he tried to get hold of the journal. she began to struggle and twist, and try to keep it away from him, and he whispered that if she made a sound he would kill her right there! still276 she kept struggling, but at last he got hold of it and gave it a wrench. of course it came in half, and at the same moment she got free from him and ran like mad to her own room and locked herself in.
"she hid the half of the journal she had kept hold of in the bottom of her trunk, and stayed for hours shivering with fright and listening at the door. then, at last, not hearing anything more, she crept out, and rushed to ph?be's room, and told her all about it. they decided that it was best to wait no longer, but tell the whole thing to washington at early dawn, and let him take matters into his own hands. they had the interview, and washington acted on the matter at once. he got his life-guard, thomas hickey, made him confess the whole thing, and then sent out and had every one of the conspirators arrested. strangely enough, the steward was nowhere to be found. he had disappeared completely, and was never seen or heard of again. he had probably thought it wise to take flight in the night. alison always thought, too, that277 he was intending to run away when he did, anyhow, without warning any one, because he had appropriated a lot of the gold and money that was to be used in paying the conspirators. that was what he had kept hidden in the beam, and he had removed it all that very night, preparatory to making off with it.
"early that morning, washington sent ph?be back to the city to stay with her father, as she would be safer there. and as he thought the house no longer a safe place for his wife, either, he arranged to despatch her at once with a strong escort to philadelphia. alison had told him her own story, explained how she aided in the gunpowder plot, and begged him to send her back to bermuda if he could. he was so grateful to her for the assistance which she had twice given that he told her he would send her to philadelphia with lady washington, and there would arrange that she should sail for her home as soon as was possible.
"so alison packed her little trunk, and without even bidding madame mortier good-by278 (for of course she didn't dare see her) she left that morning with lady washington, and never again in all her life looked upon richmond hill. in philadelphia she was fortunate enough to catch a vessel sailing at once for bermuda, but before she got to her home one other accident was to happen to her. the ship ran into a terrific storm and was completely dismasted. it almost foundered, but, after drifting around helplessly for more than a week, the passengers and crew were at last rescued by another vessel, leaving all their belongings behind on the wreck, and finally were landed in bermuda.
"she went straight to her aunt first, for she did not dare go to her grandfather, thinking he had never forgiven her for running away. but her aunt told her that her grandfather, though terribly angry with her at first, was now very, very ill, and kept constantly calling for her. so she returned to him and was forgiven, and nursed him tenderly till he died, leaving her the fine old farm. a few years later she married harrington ord, for he had279 always admired and loved her. he died, in later years, by falling from the mast of the vessel of which he was captain, and alison was left alone with one daughter, who also married, after a time, and it was her daughter, old mrs. jewell, who told us the story. alison lived all her life in secret terror lest her part in the gunpowder plot should ever be discovered by the bermudians, for she felt that she had been disloyal to her country in the part she played. yet she never wholly regretted it, because of the intense admiration she always felt for washington, and her gratitude to him for his timely rescue of her. madame mortier died soon after her departure, and never knew about the defeat of her beloved tories.
"so that is the end of the story, folks, and i guess i've explained everything!"
"no, you haven't!" said alexander promptly. "what about that half of the diary that we found in the beam! put us wise to that!"
"well, of course, that's one of the things we can't be absolutely certain about, but can280 only guess at. the steward had gone off with that half, and alison never saw it again. she always wondered what became of it. we think, though, that the steward must have come back that night looking for the slip of paper that he had forgotten or lost. he evidently thought it might be left in his hiding-place, and was on the way to hunt it up. then he had the encounter with alison, and got hold of that half of her diary. he must have taken it to the cellar, examined it hurriedly, written on it that mysterious sentence, and thrown it into the opening where he hid his things. probably he looked for his paper, and, not finding it, thought he'd dropped it elsewhere. we think likely he didn't suspect that any one had discovered the place in the beam. that's the only explanation that seems possible."
"yes," objected alexander, still unconvinced, "but how came it to remain there all that time untouched? didn't they go and search the beam afterward? didn't any one else ever know about it?"
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"no, it seems that ph?be and alison, in their hurry that morning, did not think to tell washington where they had found the paper. they didn't have time—everything had to be done so quickly. they just gave it to him and told who the conspirators were. then ph?be was sent right off, and alison went away, too, and, of course, nobody else ever knew about it or suspected it. so it lay through all the years till alexander unearthed it! isn't it too wonderful!"
"then that gink of a steward must have beat it out for keeps!" commented alexander. "guess he didn't think it'd be healthy for him to shine about those parts again, after he'd got away with all the swag! he was some pippin, he was!"
"well," ended margaret, "now you know all the mystery and the history of alison trenham, and i hope you're satisfied!"
"satisfied!" ejaculated bess, sitting up very straight. "when you haven't said one word about the sapphire signet—the most important thing of all? i guess not!"
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"i was wondering when you'd begin to be curious about that," commented margaret, with her tantalizing smile. "since you seem a little anxious on the subject, i'll go on with the second half of the story. well, as i've hinted, we didn't say a word about the signet to the old lady, and she didn't mention it in her account either. but when she had finished, corinne asked her if there was anything else she knew of that had troubled alison's mind—whether she'd ever heard her grandmother speak of something she'd lost. and at that mrs. jewell looked awfully surprised, and said no, her grandmother had never spoken of anything else, and what did we mean?
"then we told her all about the signet, and how we'd found it, and how valuable it was, and how we wanted above everything to return it to alison's descendant, and were so glad we'd found her at last. well, if you'll believe me, mrs. jewell looked simply stunned for a while, as if she couldn't trust her senses! and we had the hardest time convincing her that the signet was really hers and she must283 take it. she insisted it ought to be ours, since we had found it. but finally we managed to convince her that she was its rightful owner, and told her that mr. cameron would get it from the safe at the hotel and bring it over to her the next day."
"but why do you suppose alison never told her about it?" interrupted jess.
"that's just what we all couldn't fathom for a while, till at last mrs. jewell explained it in this way. of course, when alison was shipwrecked and rescued, she naturally supposed her trunk went down to the bottom of the ocean with the wreck. she told her grandmother that they had had to cling to the decks for several days, and never dared to go down to the cabins, for most of them were full of water. so she couldn't get at her trunk to take out anything. we think that when she realized that the signet was lost forever, and after her grandfather had forgiven her for everything (including that, no doubt), she just forgot all about the matter and either didn't think of it again, or else didn't want to. what troubled284 her most was the fear that the second half of her journal would sometime be discovered and deciphered, and she, perhaps, be considered a traitor for twice giving aid to washington.
"but now listen to the best part of the story, which comes last! we had asked mrs. jewell to say nothing just yet about what we'd told her, and when the housekeeper came back for us, the old lady bade us good-by as calmly as though we hadn't just given her the surprise of her life. but on the drive to the hotel we asked a few questions about her and found out, to our astonishment, that old mrs. jewell was really in very straitened circumstances. for years she had supported herself by doing the most beautiful lacework, and had earned enough to live on. but since her blindness came, her money had gradually disappeared, and she had had to borrow on the farm and the lovely old furniture. the housekeeper said she was afraid it wouldn't be long before she would lose everything. every one was so sorry for her and wanted to help, but she was very proud and would accept nothing from285 them. no one could imagine what she would do when she was homeless.
"it set us thinking hard, of course, and we told mr. cameron about it that night. he only said we must leave it to him, and he'd think out a scheme. next day we three drove over there with the signet, and placed it in old mrs. jewell's hands. and right then and there mr. cameron told her that, if she cared to sell it to him, he'd be only too delighted to buy it. and he offered her enough to keep her living comfortably for the rest of her days.
"you should have seen that poor old lady's face! she begged and protested that he should not give so much, that she could not accept it. but he assured her that he knew positively it was the real value of the signet, and to prove it, read her a letter he'd received from some authority in such things. she gave in at last, and we left her with that big, fat check in her hands—the happiest woman in all bermuda!"
"but what has become of the sapphire signet?"286 demanded her listeners, as margaret paused.
"here it is!" said corinne, quietly, and she pulled from under the neck of her dress a thin golden chain. there on the end dangled the wonderful sapphire signet, more beautiful than ever since it had been cleaned and polished.
"father has given it to me, and i'm going to keep it always, in memory of the long-ago alison and the strange way we stumbled on her mystery. i shall not wear it all the time, for it's too rare and valuable to run the risk of losing. but i put it on to-day in honor of the most satisfactory meeting the antiquarian club ever held!"
it was about noon of a day a week or two later that corinne and margaret stood together at the open window of the charlton street parlor. a light breeze flapped the awnings to and fro, a warm midday sun shone on the pavements outside, and the droning sound of busy varick street came distantly to them as they stood looking out. the twins287 were still at high school, but corinne had not returned there, as she was expecting to study up during the summer and in the autumn pass the examinations she was now missing. so, during these idle days, she spent the greater part of her time with margaret. since their long bermuda weeks together, they had grown into even closer intimacy, and sisters could not have loved each other with deeper devotion.
leaning on her crutches, margaret idly plucked the dead leaves from a geranium in the window-box, and corinne stood twisting one of the younger girl's dark curls around her finger. presently she said:
"father had a letter from old mrs. jewell this morning. she says words would be impossible to describe how happy she is. she thinks it just marvelous that we girls were led to do what we did, for she was in desperate straits when we first came. she declares she would never have accepted it as a charity, but it was really help from her own dead kindred sent through us. she considers it an absolute miracle!"
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"isn't it strange!" began margaret. "that's the exact word mother used last night when we were talking it over. she said it all seemed like a miracle to her—the way you came into our lives, and walked straight to the heart of the mystery that very first day; the way we worked it all out and restored what was her own to alison's granddaughter just in the nick of time; and best of all, what's happened to me!"
"well, i wasn't left out in the miracle way, either," laughed corinne; "for i've had the loveliest adventure imaginable, and made the very dearest friend of all my life!" she squeezed margaret's hand, and the two girls looked for one long, understanding moment into each other's eyes. after a quiet interval corinne spoke again:
"margaret, there's something i never told you! no one but father knows it. but i'm going to tell you now. do you know what i plan to be when i am older?"
margaret looked up at her in quick interest, and said: "no! tell me!"
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"well, it's my ambition to be a writer. father says i have some gift in that direction, and i am constantly practising at it. but, after i've learned how and can really write what people might like to read, the first story i'm going to tell is the one about alison trenham and the wonderful way she helped to rescue washington at the time he was in such danger!"
"oh, that's perfectly splendid!" cried margaret. "i wish i could do something like that, but i'm afraid it isn't in me. shall i tell you my chief ambition, corinne? i want to get so strong that i can join a basket-ball team—and beat the twins at it!"
"bless your heart, honey!" exclaimed corinne, "you're going to be the captain of that team, i'll be willing to wager!"
just at that moment alexander came swinging down the street on his way home to luncheon, whistling the tune that had come to be such a momentous one in their lives. margaret smiled as she heard it, and suddenly turned to her friend:
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"corinne, i want you to promise me something! when you come to write the story of alison, i want you to call it 'the lass of richmond hill'! i think that would be the most appropriate title for it. will you?"
corinne thought it over a moment, then she said, slowly: "yes, i think you 're right! i promise to call it—'the lass of richmond hill'!"
