ions which
added immeasurably to the sweetness and truthfulness of her voice. She
was nervous. He found her eyes frequently seeking her father's face,
and more than once they were filled with a mysterious questioning, as
if within Brokaw's brain there lurked hidden things which were new to
her, and which she was struggling to understand. She no longer held the
old fascination for Philip, and yet he conceded that she was more
beautiful than ever. Until to-night he had never seen the shadow of
sadness in her eyes; he had never seen them darken as they darkened
now, when she listened with almost feverish interest to the words which
passed between himself and Brokaw. He was certain that it was not a
whim that had brought her into the north. It was impossible for him to
believe that he had piqued at her vanity until she had leaped into
action, as she had suggested to him while they were sitting before the
fire. Could it be that she had accompanied her father because
he--Philip Whittemore--was in the north?

The thought drew a slow flush into his face, and his uneasiness
increased when he knew that she was looking at him. He was glad when it
came time for cigars, and Eileen excused herself. He opened the door
for her, and told her that he probably would not see her again until
morning, as he had an important engagement for the evening. She gave
him her hand, and for a moment he felt the clinging of her fingers
about his own.

"Good night," she whispered.

"Good night."

She drew her hand half away, and then, suddenly, raised her eyes
straight to his own. They were calm, quiet, beautiful, and yet there
came a quick little catch in her throat as she leaned so close to him
that she touched his breast, and said:

"It will be best--best for everything--everybody--if you can influence
father to stay at Fort Churchill."

She did not wait for him to reply, but hurried toward her room. For a
moment Philip stared after her in amazement. Then he took a step as if
to follow her, to call her back. The impulse left him as quickly as it
came, and he rejoined Brokaw and the factor.

He looked at his watch. It was seven o'clock. At half-past seven he
shook hands with the two men, lighted a fresh cigar, and passed out
into the night. It was early for his meeting with Pierre and Jeanne,
but he went down to the shore and walked slowly in the direction of the
cliff. He was still an hour early when he arrived at the great rock,
and sat d