menacing--the one disturbing element in
her otherwise perfect happiness--was the other girl.

Who was she? What was she? What had she been to him? What had been
their relations? And why had she accompanied him on his journey out of
the woods? The phantom girl took on a sinister form as the question
tantalized her brain.

This wild woman had helped to draw him from the river, had nursed him
through a long sickness. He was under obligations to her, and--was that
the _only obligation_?

The girl flushed hotly, and with an impatient movement flung the
blankets from her, and proceeded to dress.

"I will never, never ask him," she decided, as she sat upon the thick
bearskin in front of the stove and drew on her stockings. "He loves me
and I love him.

"If he tells me it will be of his own free will; he shall not know that
I ever heard of this girl. What is past, is past. There are sealed
chapters in the lives of most men--why should I care?

"He is mine--mine!" she cried aloud, "and I love him!"

But deep down in her heart she knew that she did care--and that she
would always care. And the knowledge hurt.

Her toilet completed, the girl passed into the other room, where
Appleton and Sheridan were engaged in a lively discussion with the
ladies.

"How is he?" She addressed her uncle, who answered with twinkling eyes.

"Bill? Oh, he's all right. Feeling fit as a fiddle. Wanted to get out
on the job, but I wouldn't let him. He was going anyhow, and the only
way I could make him stay in was to threaten to wake you up to give him
his orders straight from headquarters."

Ethel blushed furiously as the smiles of the others were directed
toward her. "Yup, he wouldn't stand for that," went on Appleton. "Said
he'd rather lie in bed for a week than have you puttering around."

With a disdainful toss of her head the girl seated herself at the
table.

"Now, Hubert Appleton, you stop teasing that poor girl!" Aunt Margaret
rallied in her defence. "Don't pay any attention to him, honey. Bill is
doing nicely, and we're all crazy to congratulate you. We think he is
just _grand_!"

Dinner had been kept piping hot, and Ethel hid her confusion behind an
appetizing array of steaming dishes.

"And what do you think?" continued her aunt, who hovered about the
table with fussy little pats and arrangement of dishes, "we have to
stay here all winter!"

"What?" cried the girl in dismay.

"That is just what we both said--Mary and I