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Few of us quite live up to our best intentions, and Miss Sommerton was no exception to the rule. She did not work as devotedly as she had hoped to do, nor did she become a recluse from society. A year after she sent to the artist some sketches which she had taken in Quebec some unknown waterfalls, some wild river scenery and received from him a warmer letter of commendation than she had hoped for.
True, his hair was tinged with grey at the temples, but there was nothing elderly about his appearance. Miss Sommerton saw that he was a handsome man, and wondered this had escaped her notice before, forgetting that she had scarcely deigned to look at him.
"You are going up to the falls. I insist on that. Let's take that as settled. The canoe is yours." He caught an encouraging look from his wife. "If you want to torture me you will say you will not go. If you want to do me the greatest of favours, you will let my friend go in the canoe with you to the landing." "What! go alone with a stranger?" cried Miss Sommerton, freezingly.
It was evident he had seen enough of the Shawenegan Falls for one day, and doubtless, because of the morning's early rising, and the day's long journey, had fallen soundly asleep. His soft felt hat lay on the ground beside him. Miss Sommerton looked at him for a moment, and thought bitterly of Mason's additional perjury in swearing that he was an elderly man.
In the seclusion of her aesthetic studio Miss Sommerton made a heroic resolve to work hard. Her life was to be consecrated to art. She would win reluctant recognition from the masters. Under all this wave of heroic resolution was an under-current of determination to get even with the artist who had treated her work so contemptuously.
A speech of that sort from a young fellow like Tom Bannister was something to create irrepressible enthusiasm. It ended in such a din that when General John Duff Tolliver arose to introduce Colonel Sommerton he had to wait some time to be heard.
There is only one thing to try, and it is this Miss Sommerton must think that the canoe is hers. You must appeal to her generosity to let Mr. Trenton go with her." "Won't you make the appeal, Jen?" "No, I will not. In the first place she'll be sorry for you, because you will make such a bungle of it. Trial is your only hope." "Oh, if success lies in bungling, I will succeed." "Don't be too sure.
"Thank you, Barn; here's your dollar," said the voice of Tom Bannister when the song was ended. "You may go now." And while Colonel Sommerton stood amazed, the young man came clown the veranda steps with Phyllis on his arm. They stopped when they reached the ground. "Good night, dear. I'll win you to-morrow or my name is not Tom Bannister. I'll win you, and Sommerton Place too."
Miss Sommerton rose with graceful indolence, and held out her hand frankly to the artist. "Mr. Trenton," she said, "I am very pleased indeed to meet you. Have you been long in Boston?" "Only a few days," replied Trenton. "I came up to Boston from Canada a short time since." "Up? You mean down. We don't say up from Canada." "Oh, don't you?
He, a young sprig of the law, with his brown mustache not yet grown, setting himself up to beat Colonel Mobley Sommerton! Phyllis blushed whenever she thought of it; but the Colonel had never once mentioned Tom's candidacy to her. The convention was approaching, and day by day signs of popular interest in it increased as the time shortened.
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