Throw Hard and asked him. He said he could not
tell the truth, and that he would not lie to me. So I knew it was all
true.

"How do I know what was in my mind? Is a woman not mad at such a time!
There I was, tossed aside for a flyaway, who was for any man that would
come her way. Yes, I think I was mad. The pride in me was hurt--as only
a woman can understand." She paused and looked at the two women who
listened to her. Fleda's eyes were on the world beyond the window of the
room.

"Surely we understand," whispered Madame Bulteel.

The woman's courage returned, and she continued: "I could not go to my
father, for he was riding the river scores of miles away. I was terribly
alone. It was then that M'sieu' Marchand, who had bribed the woman to
draw Dennis away, begged me to go away with him. He swore I should marry
him as soon as I could be free of Dennis. I scarcely knew what I said
or thought; but the place I had loved was hateful to me, so I went away
with him."

A sharp, pained exclamation broke from the lips of Madame Bulteel, but
presently she reached out and laid a hand upon the woman's arm. "Of
course you went with him," she said. "You could not stay where you were
and face the return of Dennis. There was no child to keep you, and the
man that tempted you said he adored you?"

The woman looked gratefully at her. "That was what he said," she
answered. "He said he was tired of wandering, and that he wanted a
home-and there was a big house in Montreal."

She stopped suddenly upon an angry, smothered word from Fleda's lips.
A big house in Montreal! Fleda's first impulse was to break in upon the
woman's story and tell her father what had happened just now outside
their own house; but she waited.

"Yes, there was a big house in Montreal?" said Fleda, her eyes now
resting sadly upon the woman.

"He said it should be mine. But that did not count. To be far away from
all that had been was more than all else. I was not thinking of the man,
or caring for him, I was flying from my shame. I did not see then the
shame to which I was going. I was a fool, and I was mad and bad also.
When I waked--and it was soon--there was quick understanding between us.
The big house in Montreal--that was never meant for me. He was already
married."

The old man stretched heavily to his feet, leaned both hands on the
table, and looked at the woman with glowering eyes, while Fleda's heart
seemed to stop beating.

"Married!" growled