day, and
I knew what he meant. "It's not the air, it's not the cold, and it's not
the fight you make to keep life in your body," he added, "but it's
God! That's what it is, Bobby. There's not a sound or a sight up here,
outside of that little cabin, that's human. It's all God--there's
nothing else--and it makes you think!"

III

It was spring when we came down to Fort Churchill, and it was summer
when we struck York Factory. It was the middle of one of those summer
days when strawberries ripen even up there, that the last prop fell out
from under Thomas Jefferson, and he became Thomas Jefferson Brown. He
met Lady Isobel. The title did not really belong to her, for she was
only the cousin of Lord Meton; but Thomas Jefferson Brown called her
that from the first.

It was down close to the boats, where their launch lay, and the wind had
frolicked with Lady Isobel's hair until it rippled about her face
and shoulders like a net of spun gold. She was bareheaded, and he was
bareheaded, and they stared for a moment, her blue eyes flashing into
his gray ones; and then there came into her face a color like rose, and
he bowed, as one of the old-time Presidents might have bowed to a
hair-powdered beauty in the days when the Capitol was young.

That was the beginning, and to his honor be it said that Thomas
Jefferson Brown never revealed that he was a gentleman born, though his
heart was stricken with love at that first sight of Lady Isobel's lovely
face. Lord Meton wanted a man--one who could handle a canoe and shoulder
two hundred pounds of duff; and "Tom" became the man, working like a
slave for a month; but always with the pride and bearing of a king.

It wasn't difficult to see what was happening. Lord Meton saw, and
understood; but he knew that the proud blood in Lady Isobel was an
invulnerable armor that would protect her from indiscretion. And as for
Thomas Jefferson Brown--

"Bobby," he said, standing up straight and tall, "if she can only love a
gentleman, and not a man, what's the use of playing cards?"

One day, when he had to carry Lady Isobel ashore from a big York boat,
something inside him got the best of his arms, and he held her tight--so
tight that her eyes came down to his with a frightened look, and he
heard a breath come from her that was almost a sob. They gazed at each
other for a moment, and it was then that Thomas Jefferson Brown told her
that he loved her--not in words, but in a way that she u