large dark mass seemed to lie upon the
water, and to that Mrs. Costello's eyes turned.

"There is the island," she said in a low voice. "Your birthplace, Lucia,
and my first Canadian home."

But in vain Lucia strained her eyes to distinguish the size or form of
the land. The end of the island which they were approaching was still
thickly wooded, and the drooping branches added still more vagueness to
the outline. Only as they came nearer a small clearing was dimly
distinguishable, where a kind of promontory ran out into the river, and
on the point of land a small white house.

Mrs. Costello laid her hand upon Lucia's.

"Look!" she said, "can you see that space where the house stands? What a
lonely place it looks! I wonder how I lived there for six years. I can
see even the place where the canoe used to lie on the beach. There is
one there now!" She stood straining her eyes to watch the scene once so
familiar, until the steamer, drawing towards the landing-place,
completely hid it from her. Then the lights on shore flashed out more
brightly close at hand, and the figures of men waiting on the wharf
could be distinguished. Just as the cable was thrown on shore a boat
came flying across the river from the island. It drew up to the wharf,
and next moment Mr. Strafford was seen coming through the little crowd
to receive his visitors. They landed immediately, and he led them to his
boat.

"You remember this crossing?" he said to Mrs. Costello; "it was by this
way that you left the island."

"With my baby in my arms. Yes; I am not likely to forget it."

They took their places in the boat, where an Indian boy was waiting. Mr.
Strafford took an oar, and they glided out of the light and noise of the
shore into the starry darkness.

Very few words passed as they crossed the river. Mrs. Costello's mind
was full of thoughts of her life here, and Lucia looked forward with
wondering curiosity to the sight of an Indian settlement. She was
conscious, too, that the feeling of terror and dislike, which for so
many years of her life had been always awakened by the sight of one of
her father's people, was not even now altogether extinguished. Since she
had known her own origin she had tried to get rid of this prejudice more
earnestly than before, but the habit was so strong that she had not yet
quite mastered it. She sat and watched the shadowy outline of the Indian
boy's figure in the boat, and lectured herself a little on the fo