d not understand human nature
then as I understand it now, else would I have known that fair eyes
turn away to hide what they dare not reveal. I prided myself that I was
now well in hand. I should take the first opportunity to undo my folly
of the night before.

* * * * *

It was after supper. Father Holland had gone to his tent. Frances
Sutherland was arranging a bunch of flowers in her lap; and I took my
place directly behind her lest my face should tell truth while my tongue
uttered lies.

"Speaking of stars, you know Miss Sutherland," I began, remembering that
I had said something about stars that must be unsaid.

"Don't call me _Miss_ Sutherland, Rufus," she said, and that gentle
answer knocked my grand resolution clean to the four winds.

"I beg your pardon, Frances----" Chaos and I were one. Whatever was it I
was to say about stars?

"Well?" There was a waiting in the voice.

"Yes--you know--Frances." I tried to call up something coherent; but
somehow the thumping of my heart set up a rattling in my head.

"No--Rufus. As a matter of fact, I don't know. You were going to tell me
something."

"Bother my stupidity, Miss--Miss--Frances, but the mastiff's forgotten
what it was going to bow-wow about!"

"Not the moon this time," she laughed. "Speaking of stars," and she gave
me back my own words.

"Oh! Yes! Speaking of stars! Do you know I think a lot of the men
coming up from Fort William got to regarding the star above the leading
canoe as their own particular star."

I thought that speech a masterpiece. It would convince her she was the
star of all the men, not mine particularly. That was true enough to
appease conscience, a half-truth like Louis Laplante's words. So I would
rob my foolish avowal of its personal element. A flush suffused the
snowy white below her hair.

"Oh! I didn't notice any particular star above the leading canoe. There
were so very, very many splendid stars, I used to watch them half the
night!"

That answer threw me as far down as her manner had elated me.

"Well! What of the stars?" asked the silvery voice.

I was dumb. She flung the flowers aside as though she would leave; but
Father Holland suddenly emerged from the tent fanning himself with his
hat.

"Babes!" said he. "You're a pair of fools! Oh! To be young and throw our
opportunities helter-skelter like flowers of which we're tired," and he
looked at the upset lapful. "Children! child