For a few days Winn Hardy was so occupied with the cares of his new position that he thought of little else. It was a pleasing freedom, for never before had he known what it was to be his own master; but now the hiring of men and directing operations gave him a sense of power and responsibility that was exhilarating.

Jess Hutton aided him in many ways and, in fact, seemed anxious to assist in this new enterprise that was likely to be of material benefit to Rockhaven. Winn wisely let the stock matter rest, feeling that a practical demonstration of the Rockhaven Granite Company's enterprise and intentions would in due time establish confidence.

He wondered many times who the girl was that had hid herself in that weird cluster of rocks to play the violin, and marvelled that any maid, born and reared amid the half-starved residents of Rockhaven, should even have that laudable ambition; but he asked no questions. In a way, the romance of it also kept him from inquiries. "I will bide my time," he thought, "and some day I will go over and surprise this maid of the gorge."

He had noticed a rather immaturely formed girl with dark, lustrous eyes once or twice in the dooryard of a little white house in the same lane where he had found lodgment, and had met her once on the village street and half surmised she might be this mysterious violinist. He gave little thought to it, however, for his new position and the open path to success and possible riches that seemed before him was enough to put cave-seeking maids, however charming, out of his mind. Then, too, he had not quite recovered from Ethel Sherman.

When Sunday came, a new, and in a way pleasurable, experience came with it. His landlady, Mrs. Moore, a widow whose two sons were away on a long fishing voyage, and who seemed so afraid of her solitary boarder as to no more than ask if he wanted this or that during his lonely meals, now appeared to gain courage with the advent of the Lord's day.

"I'd be pleased, sir," she said humbly, "if ye'd attend sarvice with me at the meetin'-house this morning."

And though Winn had planned to turn his back on the coop-like houses that composed the town, and take a long stroll over the island, there was such an appealing hope in this good woman's invitation that he could not resist it, and at once consented to attend "sarvice" with her. And he was not sorry he did, for when the little bell began calling the piously inclined together, and he issued forth with Mrs. Moore, who was dressed in a shiny black silk and a "bunnit" the like of which his grandmother used to wear, and looking both proud and pleased, he felt it a pleasant duty. On the way to the small brown church which stood just beyond the steamer landing and at the foot of a sloping hill dotted thick with tombstones, he felt that he was the observed of all observers, and when seated in Mrs. Moore's pew, cushioned with faded green rep, whichever way he looked some one was peeping curiously at him. In a way it made him feel unpleasant, and he wondered if his necktie was awry; then as he looked around at the worn and out-of-date garb of the few men and almost grotesque raiment of the women and girls, what Jess had said of the people recurred to him in a forcible way. The usual service that followed, similar in kind to any country church, was interesting to Winn mainly because it recalled his boyhood days. When the minister, a thin, gray-haired man, began his sermon, Winn grew curious. He was accustomed to pulpit oratory of a high class, and wondered now what manner of discourse was like to emanate from this humble desk. The text was the old and time-worn "The Lord will provide," that has instilled courage and hope into millions of despondent hearts, and now used once more to encourage this little band of simple worshippers. The preacher made no new deductions, in fact, seemed to, as usual, lay stress upon the need of faith that the Lord would provide, come what might. To this end he quoted freely from Scripture, and Winn was beginning to lose interest and look around the bare and smoky walls and out of one window that commanded a view of the rippled harbor, when suddenly his attention was arrested by a direct reference to himself, or rather, his errand to Rockhaven. "We have," asserted the minister, in slow and solemn voice, "a certain and sure proof that the Lord watches over and cares for us, and that we on this lonely island, striving to live righteously, are not forgotten by Him. Our acres fit to till are few and lack fertility; our winters dreary and full of the menace of storm and shipwreck to those who must pursue their calling abroad; and yet it seems that He who holds the waters in the hollow of His hand, realizing our needs, has turned the minds of moneyed men toward our barren home, and through them blessed us with a new source of livelihood. Through them heretofore worthless ledges of granite are to be reared into dwellings, or perhaps churches in the great city. It is to me a certain and signal proof that the good Lord watches over us here, as well as over others who dwell in more favored spots, and that we have a new and greater cause for thankfulness. Many times we have repined at our hard lot, at our scanty stores of sustenance and the bitterness of poverty; many times, too, some of us have felt the burden of our lives hard to bear, and almost doubted the good Lord's watchfulness and care over all who believe in His word. It is this lack of faith, and this lesson of His goodness, even unto us, that I wish to impress upon your minds to-day, for, although we are but poor and humble, illy fed and thinly clad, yet we are not forgotten by Him, the Great Ruler of the Universe."

This peculiar and unusual reference to a mere matter of business and Winn's mission to Rockhaven did not end his discourse, but it kept that young man's attention away from all else until the minister closed and bowed his head in prayer, and, when the inevitable and long-handled collection box was passed, Winn felt he must, perforce, contribute liberally, which he did.

When the congregation was dismissed and he and Mrs. Moore reached the porch, there was Jess with two ladies, one elderly, and the girl Winn had noticed in Rock Lane, seemingly awaiting him. An introduction to Mrs. and Miss Hutton followed, and then all five walked homeward together.

It is said that trifles determine our course in life, that, like chips floating down the stream, we are moved hither and yon by imperceptible forces. If it is so with one, it is with all, and was so with the people of Rockhaven, and their estimate and subsequent opinion of Winn Hardy. He attended that poor little church that day out of kindly regard for Mrs. Moore's wishes, he listened patiently to services and the sermon, only a few sentences of which interested him, and, of course, conducted himself as any well-behaved and well-bred young man would. And yet that trivial act was the starting-point in the good will and confidence of those people, the worth of which he realized not at all then and never fully until long afterward.

Neither was he entitled to special credit for his self-sacrifice, except it be that his desire to please that worthy matron, Mrs. Moore, overcame his selfishness. But whether or not, it led to immediate, though minor reward, for late that afternoon, and upon his return from a short stroll over Norse Hill, he found her on the porch of the white cottage next to her home, chatting with the two ladies he met at church, and he was invited to join them. How cordially the two elderly ladies endeavored to interest him and what a soft witchery the dark eyes of the younger one held for him need not be enlarged upon. It mattered not that Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Hutton were neither cultured nor fashionable; they were at least sincere in their enjoyment of his society and meant what they uttered, which is more than can be said of many women of position. He learned that the girl's name was Mona, that she had never been away from the island, and, as might be expected, was somewhat bashful and a little afraid of him. He had a mind to ask her if she played the violin, but a romantic desire to surprise her, or whoever the mysterious violinist was, restrained him.

The stars were out, a perfect quietude had fallen upon the little village, and only the ceaseless murmur of the near-by ocean whispered in the still air, when Mrs. Moore arose to go, and, much against his will, Winn felt compelled to follow.

In his room he smoked for an hour in solitude, buoyant with hope for his own future, amply satisfied with the business and social progress he had so far made, and mentally contrasting the life he had left behind him with the new one he had entered upon; and into these meditations, it must be stated, came the faces of Ethel Sherman and Mona Hutton.

And so ended Winn's first Sunday on Rockhaven.