Meta Book

"You owe me a visit for the sake
of old times. Why must you go to the coast at all?"
"Oh, I must! I am a fortune hunter. From Seattle I go on to
Alaska."
"Alaska?" She looked at him in astonishment. "Are you going to
paint the Indians?"
"Paint?" the young man frowned. "Oh! I'm not a painter, Alexandra.
I'm an engraver. I have nothing to do with painting."
"But on my parlor wall I have the paintings--"
He interrupted nervously. "Oh, water-color sketches--done for
amusement. I sent them to remind you of me, not because they were
good. What a wonderful place you have made of this, Alexandra."
He turned and looked back at the wide, map-like prospect of field
and hedge and pasture. "I would never have believed it could be
done. I'm disappointed in my own eye, in my imagination."
At this moment Lou and Oscar came up the hill from the orchard.
They did not quicken their pace when they saw Carl; indeed, they
did not openly look in his direction. They advanced distrustfully,
and as if they wished the distance were longer.
Alexandra beckoned to them.


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