he sea,
swimming always out and out.

I had not the heart to trouble him any more.

After all, what right had I to interfere? What right had I to try to
go between the soul of a man and the soul of a dog?

"God speed!--you brave, old, lion-hearted Mike. God speed!" I cried.
"Go to him. You were two of a kind. May you soon catch up with him,
and may both of you be happy."

CHAPTER XXIII

The Fight in the Woods

I did not engage any one to fill Jake's place, for I felt that no man
really could fill it. In any case, with the approach of the wet,
wintry weather, the work at Golden Crescent diminished. I did not have
the continuous supplies to make ready for the Camps, such as they
demanded in the summer months. When they called, they generally took
away enough to last them over several weeks. Again, Jake had cut, sawn
and stacked all my winter supply of firewood long before he took sick.

Taking all these things into consideration, I decided I would go
through the winter, at least, without fresh help.

Mary Grant and Mrs. Malmsbury still remained at the cottage over the
way.

Often I asked Mary,--almost in dread,--if she were going away during
the stormier months, but she always said she had not made any
arrangements so far.

Not once, but many times, I tried to break through the reserve which
she had hedged round herself ever since our evening in the lagoon after
our first fishing experience when we had drawn so near in sympathy to
each other. I felt afraid lest I should forget myself some time and
tell her all that was in my heart craving to be told, for something
kept whispering to me that, if I did, I might lose her altogether.

Rita's lessons went on apace. Twice a week she came over in the
evenings for instruction. She was quickly nearing the point where I
would be of no further service, for I had imparted to her almost all I
was capable of imparting in the way of actual grammar.

I hoped to be able to complete her course before Christmas came round.
Then it would be merely a question of selection of reading matter.

Rita's manner of speaking had undergone a wonderful change. There were
no slangy expressions now; no "ain'ts" or "I guess"; no plural nouns
with singular verbs; no past participles for the past tense; no split
infinitives. To all intents and purposes, Rita Clark had taken a
course of instruction at a good grammar school.

And what a difference it made in her, generally