it with affection, but of a different degree from his. Her
mind was more occupied with another, more palpitating circle of life
than was possible at the cabin, much as she appreciated its green and
peaceful beauty. The sack of gold lying in the bank had somehow opened
up far-flung possibilities. She skipped the interval of affairs which
she knew must be attended to, and betook herself and Bill to Granville,
thence to the bigger, older cities, where money shouted in the voice of
command, where all things were possible to those who had the price.

She had had her fill of the wilderness--for the time being, she put it.
It loomed behind her--vast, bleak, a desolation of loneliness from
which she must get away. She knew now, beyond peradventure, that her
heart had brought her back to the man in spite of, rather than because
of, his environment. And secure in the knowledge of his love for her
and her love for him, she was already beginning to indulge a dream of
transplanting him permanently to kindlier surroundings, where he would
have wider scope for his natural ability and she less isolation.

But she was beginning to know this husband of hers too well to propose
anything of the sort abruptly. Behind his tenderness and patience she
had sometimes glimpsed something inflexible, unyielding as the
wilderness he loved. So she merely answered:

"In a way, yes."

"Let's go outside where I can smoke a decent cigar on top of this
fairly decent meal," he suggested. "Then we'll figure on the next
move. I think about twenty-four hours in Hazleton will do me. There's
a steamer goes down-river to-morrow."

CHAPTER XXIV

NEIGHBORS

Four days later they stood on the deck of a grimy little steamer
breasting the outgoing tide that surged through the First Narrows.
Wooded banks on either hand spread dusky green in the hot August sun.
On their left glinted the roofs and white walls of Hollyburn, dear to
the suburban heart. Presently they swung around Brockton Point, and
Vancouver spread its peninsular clutter before them. Tugs and launches
puffed by, about their harbor traffic. A ferry clustered black with
people hurried across the inlet. But even above the harbor noises,
across the intervening distance they could hear the vibrant hum of the
industrial hive.

"Listen to it," said Bill. "Like surf on the beaches. And, like the
surf, it's full of treacherous undercurrents, a bad thing to get into
unless you can sw