depended upon the gathering of furs for their living, and Owen besides
had inherited some of the Gregory combativeness.

He was thinking of that cousin and feeling an eagerness he could not
overcome to set eyes on her for himself.

What was she like?

If she looked at all a Gregory he felt sure he could never care for her,
since his feeling of intense dislike toward Alexander the factor was too
deep-rooted to be easily cast out.

What was to hinder his wandering around near the big house used as an
office and storeroom as well as the residence of the factor?

If Cuthbert had done so without attracting attention surely he could,
and perhaps he might also be favored with just a little glimpse of the
girl.

Even while allowing himself to be lured into this sort of thing by some
strange feeling within, Owen was curling his lip sarcastically at the
idea of his ever being reconciled to the grandfather who had ruined the
lives of his parents, making them so much harder and bitter than would
otherwise have been the case.

But with all his animosity toward Dugdale, the timber cruiser who had
won the heart of his favorite child, the factor had not been able to
fully mar their lives, and Owen knew that true love had reigned in that
humble cabin far away beyond the jurisdiction of old Gregory up to the
time death took the father and husband away.

Presently he found his footsteps had carried him near the large building
and he avoided the office end, as he did not wish it to appear that he
was at all curious concerning the grave news brought in by the scouts
who had come with the batteau from the upper reaches of the river.

It was in the hope of hearing the same voice which had attracted
Cuthbert that brought him close to the rear of the building, where the
wing was used as a home by Mr. Gregory.

Lights abounded in various parts of the house, which, being built for
the most part of huge logs, weatherbeaten from long years of service,
but still substantial, gave evidence of being a comfortable abode; and
it was not long ere Owen felt a thrill pass through his being as he
caught a sudden burst of childish song, which ceased almost as quickly
as it had begun, as though the singer just had to give utterance to her
buoyant feelings in such little snatches of music.

Eagerly he waited, hoping that she would again lift up her sweet voice,
for it had sounded like the trill of birds in the woodland to his
enraptured ear.

Y