he difference
they must have noticed in me would have jarred on them. I should have
brought something alien into their unworldly life. It was too late to
return; I had to follow the path I had chosen."

Blake mused a while, watching the lights of Three Rivers fade astern
and the broad white wake of the paddles stream back across the glassy
surface of the lake. The girl must have learned much of human failings
since she left her sheltered home, but he thought the sweetness of
character which could not be spoiled by knowledge of evil was greatly
to be admired. He was, however, a man of action and not a philosopher.

"Well," he said, "I appreciate your letting me talk to you; but it's
cold and getting late, and you have sat on deck long enough. I'll see
that somebody looks after the animals."

Millicent felt dubious, though she was sleepy and tired.

"If anything happened to her pets, Mrs. Keith would not forgive me."

"I'll engage that something will happen to some of them very soon
unless you promise to go to your room," Blake laughed. Then he called
a deckhand. "What have you to do?"

"Stand here until the watch is changed."

"Then, you can keep an eye on these baskets. If any of the beasts
makes an alarming noise, send to my room, the second, forward, port
side. Look me up before we get to Montreal."

"That's all right, sir," replied the man.

Blake turned to Millicent and held out his hand as she rose.

"Now," he said, "you can go to rest with a clear conscience."

She left him with a word of thanks, wondering whether she had been
indiscreet, and why she had told him so much. She knew nothing to his
advantage except one chivalrous action, and she had not desired to
arouse his pity, but he had an honest face and had shown an
understanding sympathy which touched her, because she had seldom
experienced it. He had left the army with a stain upon his name; but
she felt very confident that he had not merited his disgrace.

CHAPTER III

THE COUSINS

Dinner was over at the Windsor, in Montreal, and Mrs. Keith was sitting
with Mrs. Ashborne in the square between the hotel and St. Catharine's
Street. A cool air blew uphill from the river, and the patch of grass
with its fringe of small, dusty trees had a certain picturesqueness in
the twilight. Above it the wooded crest of the mountain rose darkly
against the evening sky; lights glittered behind the network of thin
branches and fluttering lea