ignificance to the simpler life of Canada's nascent capital. But
through it all both she and Anderson pined for the West, and when
Parliament rose in early July, they fled first to their rising
farm-buildings on one of the tributaries of the Saskatchewan, and then,
till the homestead was ready, and the fall ploughing in sight, they had
gone to the Rockies, in order that they might gratify a passionate wish
of Elizabeth's--to get for once beyond beaten tracks, and surprise the
unknown. She pleaded for it as their real honeymoon. It might never be
possible again; for the toils of life would soon have snared them.

And so, after a month's wandering beyond all reach of civilisation,
they were here in the wild heart of Manitou's wild land, and the red and
white of Elizabeth's cheek, the fire in her eyes showed how the god's
spell had worked....

* * * * *

The evening came. Their frugal meal, prepared by one of the Indian
half-breeds, and eaten in a merry community among beds of orchids and
vetch, was soon done; and the husband and wife pushed off again in the
boat--for the densely wooded shores of the lake were impassable on
foot--to watch the moon rise on this mysterious land.

And as they floated there, often hand in hand, talking a little, but
dreaming more--Anderson's secret thoughts reviewed the past year, and
the incredible fortune which had given him Elizabeth.

Deep in his nature was still the old pessimism, the old sadness. Could
he make her happy? In the close contact of marriage he realised all that
had gone to the making of her subtle and delicate being--the influences
of a culture and tradition of which he was mostly ignorant, though her
love was opening many gates to him. He felt himself in many respects her
inferior--and there were dark moments when it seemed to him inevitable
that she must tire of him. But whenever they overshadowed him, the
natural reaction of a vigorous manhood was not far off. Patriotism and
passion--a profound and simple pride--stood up and wrestled with his
doubt. She was not less, but more, than he had imagined her. What was in
truth his safeguard and hers, was the fact that, at the very root of
her, Elizabeth was a poet! She had seen Canada and Anderson from the
beginning in the light of imagination; and that light was not going to
fail her now. For it sprang from the truth and glow of her own nature;
by the help of it she _made_ her world; and Canad