at the brightest side of
everything."

He made no answer, but he strove with some degree of success to recover
his usual tranquillity as they turned toward the entrance of the hall.

In the meanwhile, Lisle had been talking to Millicent. She had already
made a marked impression on him, for in the wilds the man had acquired a
swift and true insight into character. One has time to think in the
lonely places where, since life itself often depends upon their accuracy,
a man's perceptions grow keen, and though some of the minor complexities
and subtleties of modern civilization might have puzzled him he was
seldom mistaken in essentials.

He liked her direct and calmly searching gaze; he liked her voice which,
while soft and pleasant, had a trace of gravity in it. He knew that her
fine carriage was a sign of physical vigor and he recognized how it had
been gained by the clear, warm tinting of her slightly sun-darkened skin.
But, apart from this and her comeliness, which was marked, there was that
in her personality which spoke of evenness and depth of character. She
was steadfast, not lightly to be swayed from a resolve, he thought.

"Nasmyth has often spoken about you," she told him. "I understand it was
chiefly by your help that he succeeded in reaching the scene of my
brother's death. I want to thank you for that."

Her voice was quiet, but it did not betoken indifference; he knew that
she was not one to forget. He could not think of any apposite answer, but
she saw the sympathy in his eyes and it pleased her more than words would
have done.

"It was a relief to me that Nasmyth made that journey," she went on. "I
wanted to learn everything that could be known--instead of shrinking from
it. You see, I had a great faith in my brother."

"He deserved it," Lisle declared warmly. "I have gathered enough to
convince me of that!"

"Thank you! Clarence was not in a condition to notice anything very
clearly during his journey, and I think what he suffered blunted his
recollection. Besides, the subject is a distressing one to him, and it is
seldom he can be induced to speak about it. Perhaps that is a pity; I
find it does not always save one trouble in the end to avoid a little
immediate pain."

Lisle was gratified. She had spoken so unrestrainedly, though he imagined
that it was a somewhat unusual thing for her to take a stranger into her
confidence.

"Yes," he replied; "I think that's very true. It's better to face it