tte into the water, Charnock turned the canoe. It was
a relief to be energetic, because Sadie's demand for speed stung him. He
glanced at her now and then, but she gave no sign of relenting; her face
was whiter than usual and her look was strained. Getting angry, he drove
the canoe down the lake with a curling wave at her bow, until the paddle
snapped in a savage stroke and he flung the haft away. For a moment, he
hoped Sadie would laugh, but she did not.

"Now you'll have to paddle with your hands until you pick up the broken
blade," she said.

Charnock did so and afterwards awkwardly propelled the craft towards
the camp fire. He thought Sadie might have suggested their landing and
walking back, but she was silent and calmly watched his clumsy efforts.
He was glad when they reached the beach where the others were and he
helped her out. An hour or two later he drove her home, but she did
not talk. Her anger had gone, but she seemed strangely distant. After
helping her down at the hotel he waited a moment.

"Can't we make this up and be friends again?" he asked.

She gave him a curious steady glance. "Not now. It looks as if you
didn't know me yet."

Then she left him, and Charnock drove home in a thoughtful mood. He
had some idea about what she meant and had been rather surprised by the
pride she had shown. Sadie had certainly led him on; but she was not
altogether the girl he had thought.

CHAPTER III

KELLER INTERFERES

For two or three weeks after the picnic Charnock did not meet Sadie. The
rebuff he had got did not rankle much, and was rather provocative than
daunting, but he understood why she had told him he made her cheap. She
meant to keep her caresses for her husband or declared lover, and if he
wanted her, he must pay the regular price. This was very proper, from
her point of view, but from his the price was high.

Sadie was pretty, capable, and amusing, but he was not sure he would
like to see her every day, in his house and at his table. Besides, the
house would really be hers, and Sadie would not forget this. She was
determined and liked her own way. He had promised to marry another girl,
of a very different stamp, but his conscience was clear on that point.
It was better for Helen's sake that he should give her up, because he
was on the edge of ruin and she was much too good for him. Irresolution,
however, was perhaps his greatest failing, and now he must decide, he
wavered and thought about