alf turned over, wrecked and broken,
we swept into the peaceful basin of the river below.

CHAPTER XIV

On the flats around the Whitehorse Rapids was a great largess of wild
flowers. The shooting stars gladdened the glade with gold; the bluebells
brimmed the woodland hollow with amethyst; the fire-weed splashed the
hills with the pink of coral. Daintily swinging, like clustered pearls,
were the petals of the orchid. In glorious profusion were begonias,
violets, and Iceland poppies, and all was in a setting of the keenest
emerald. But over the others dominated the wild rose, dancing everywhere
and flinging its perfume to the joyful breeze.

Boats and scows were lined up for miles along the river shore. On the
banks water-soaked outfits lay drying in the sun. We, too, had shipped
much water in our passage, and a few days would be needed to dry out
again. So it was that I found some hours of idleness and was able to see
a good deal of Berna.

Madam Winklestein I found surprisingly gracious. She smiled on me, and
in her teeth, like white quartz, the creviced gold gleamed. She had a
smooth, flattering way with her that disarmed enmity. Winklestein, too,
had conveniently forgotten our last interview, and extended to me the
paw of spurious friendship. I was free to see Berna as much as I chose.

Thus it came about that we rambled among the woods and hills, picking
wild flowers and glad almost with the joy of children. In these few days
I noted a vast change in the girl. Her cheeks, pale as the petals of the
wild orchid, seemed to steal the tints of the briar-rose, and her eyes
beaconed with the radiance of sun-waked skies. It was as if in the poor
child a long stifled capacity for joy was glowing into being.

One golden day, with her cheeks softly flushed, her eyes shining, she
turned to me.

"Oh, I could be so happy if I only had a chance, if I only had the
chance other girls have. It would take so little to make me the happiest
girl in the world--just to have a home, a plain, simple home where all
was sunshine and peace; just to have the commonest comforts, to be
care-free, to love and be loved. That would be enough." She sighed and
went on:

"Then if I might have books, a little music, flowers--oh, it seems like
a dream of heaven; as well might I sigh for a palace."

"No palace could be too fair for you, Berna, no prince too noble. Some
day, your prince will come, and you will give him that great love I to