broth
again. But again he was whispering:

"Blankets--yours----"

"Yes, Mark. After you have had your nourishment. When I need them."

But when he had taken his cup of hot broth he slipped off to sleep again
and Gloria, smiling a tender smile, sat by her fire watching him as a
mother watches a sick baby who, the doctor has just told her, will live.

_Chapter XXXII_

That night Gloria, listening now to King's breathing, now to the
crackling of her fire, grew restless, restless. Again and again she went
to look out into the quiet moonlight night, across the glittering
expanses of pure white glistening snow. It was the restlessness of one
who had taken a giant determination; who but awaited impatiently for the
time to do what she was bent upon doing. In her heart was still that
new-born gladness; in her bosom there was still something singing like
the liquid voice of a bird. It had sung for the first time when first
she had ministered to King, when she had understood what love's service
was, when she had gone down the cliffs for firewood, when, because of
her tireless nursing, she had been rewarded by his opening eyes; as the
hours wore on it had grown into a chant triumphant. She, Gloria, had
lived to do something that was noble and unselfish and brave; she,
Gloria, had been unafraid and unswerving; she had saved a man's life.
And that life was Mark King's! She had made amends; she had set her feet
unfalteringly in a new trail; throughout her being she was aglow with
the consciousness of one who had gladly done love's labour.

Now she waited only for the hour when again King must have his broth.
She gave it to him, smiled at him, commanded him to go back to sleep,
promising to talk with him in the morning. And then, when again he
breathed with the quiet regularity of one sleeping, she went eagerly
about her task.

Now, at her hour of need, she was buoyed up by a great and wonderful
confidence that she could not fail. Thus far she had accomplished each
duty as it had stood before her, and from successes achieved grew the
new faith that in to-night's task, perhaps the supreme and final labour,
she would succeed again. They must have more meat; to-morrow or the next
day, at latest, for the steaks which she had eaten and the strong broths
to maintain and rebuild strength in. King had cut deeply into their
supply. And she knew Mark King well enough to be very certain that, the
moment he could summon strength en