arms around each other, their heads bent in prayer, I saw
Andrew Clark and Margaret.

The next afternoon, Andrew called on me. He was waiting for me at the
store, as Jake and I returned with two boat-loads of fresh stock which
we were out receiving from the _Cloochman_.

The old fellow took me by the hand and surprised me by his smile of
open friendship.

"I would ha'e come over sooner, George, but I couldna get away frae the
ranch these last few days." His eyes turned humorously as he said it.

"I might ha'e run over this mornin', but Marget and me ha'e a lot o'
leaway to make up.

"Say! man,--I'll be glad if you will do what ye can to help Rita. Make
your ain arrangements;--for, what suits you, suits me and Marget."

CHAPTER XVIII

A Maid, a Mood and a Song

In Golden Crescent Bay things moved quietly, almost drowsily. There
were the routine of hurried work and the long spells of comparative
idleness.

As for the people over the way, I saw little of them outside of
business.

I had not spoken to Mary Grant since the peremptory dismissal I had
received from her during her recovery from the drowning accident.

I had not acknowledged her note by a visit, as probably I should have
done; but, then,--how was I to know but that the note had been sent
merely as a matter of form and common courtesy? She had no reason to
think me other than what I showed myself to be,--an ordinary
store-clerk; and this being so she might have considered it
presumptuous had I endeavoured in any way to avail myself of the
advantage I had secured in being of service to her, for, despite her
endeavours, she could not disguise from me,--who was in a position to
judge in a moment,--that her upbringing and her education had been such
as only the richest could afford and only the best families in America
and Europe could command. Yet she had a dash and wayward individualism
that were all her own;--savouring of the prairies and the wilder life
of the West.

To me, she was still an enigma.

Mrs. Malmsbury had been making all the purchases at the store; and,
naturally, conversation with her was of a strictly business order. She
seldom had a word to say that was not absolutely necessary, because,
from long experience, she had gathered wisdom and knew that talking
begot answering and questioning, and when these answers and questions
were unheard conversation was apt to become a monologue.

She had no information to impart, no