ed. "In Lebanon--your side."

How different she seemed from a few moments ago when she stood listening
like a nymph for the song of the Spirit of the Wood! Now she was gay,
buoyant, with a chamois-like alertness and a beaming vigour.

"Now I know what 'blind drunk' means," he replied musingly. "In Manitou
when men get drunk, the people get astigmatism and can't see the
tangledfooted stagger."

"It means that the pines of Manitou are straighter than the cedars of
Lebanon," she remarked.

"And the pines of Manitou have needles," he rejoined, meaning to give
her the victory.

"Is my tongue as sharp as that?" she asked, amusement in her eyes.

"So sharp I can feel the point when I can't see it," he retorted.

"I'm glad of that," she replied with an affectation of conceit. "Of
course if you live in Lebanon you need surgery to make you feel a
point."

"I give in--you have me," he remarked.

"You give in to Manitou?" she asked provokingly. "Certainly not--only to
you. I said, 'You have me.'"

"Ah, you give in to that which won't hurt you--"

"Wouldn't you hurt me?" he asked in a softening tone.

"You only play with words," she answered with sudden gravity. "Hurt you?
I owe you what I can not pay back. I owe you my life; but as nothing can
be given in exchange for a life, I cannot pay you."

"But like may be given for like," he rejoined in a tone suddenly full of
meaning.

"Again you are playing with words--and with me," she answered brusquely,
and a little light of anger dawned in her eyes. Did he think that he
could say a thing of that sort to her--when he pleased? Did he think
that because he had done her a great service, he could say casually what
belonged only to the sacred moments of existence? She looked at him with
rising indignation, but there suddenly came to her the conviction that
he had not spoken with affronting gallantry, but that for him the moment
had a gravity not to be marred by the place or the circumstance.

"I beg your pardon if I spoke hastily," he answered presently. "Yet
there's many a true word spoken in jest."

There was a moment's silence. She realized that he was drawn to her,
and that the attraction was not alone due to his having saved her at
Carillon; that he was not taking advantage of the thing which must ever
be a bond between them, whatever came of life. When she had seen him at
the Hospital Fete, a feeling had rushed over her that he had got nearer
to her than any man had