idn't know."

"Ah! Then you didn't tell him? Why didn't you?"

It was difficult to reply, but there was something in Bella's voice that
disarmed Millicent's resentment. Bella had grown gentler since her
marriage and less often indulged in bitterness.

"I think," said Millicent, "I didn't want any one to distract me; I'm
going to make photographs and sketches for the book, you know."

"But you let us come!"

"Yes," assented Millicent; "you're different."

"That's true. We won't disturb you; and Nasmyth wouldn't count. He's an
unobtrusive person, only to the front when he is wanted, which is a good
deal to say for him; he doesn't expect anything. No doubt, the same
applies to Lisle."

Millicent made no answer and Bella wondered whether she had gone too far.

"But didn't Clarence hear that you were going?" she asked.

"He was in Switzerland with his mother. She had been recommended to try a
change."

Bella asked no more questions and Millicent sat wondering how far she had
been influenced by the reason she had given for leaving Clarence behind.
She had undoubtedly desired to be free to devote herself to the gathering
of material for her book, but that was not quite all. She had also
half-consciously shrunk from the close contact with Clarence which would
have been one result of their life in camp, but this she refused to
admit. It was clearer that she desired an extension of the liberty which
she must sometime relinquish. Taking it all round, she was rather
troubled in mind.

"There's one thing," remarked Bella. "He can't write you any reproachful
letters for stealing away. At least, if he does so, you won't get them."

This, as Millicent recognized, was a relief, but Miss Hume broke in upon
her reflections with some trifling request and soon afterward the men
strolled back toward the fire. The packers had already gone to sleep; the
dew was heavy, but Nasmyth lay down on the shingle and Carew took a place
beside his wife's chair. Suddenly Millicent leaned forward with her face
turned toward the lake.

"Listen!" she cried sharply. "Can't you hear something?"

No sound reached the others for a moment; and then Nasmyth jumped up.

"Yes," he exclaimed; "canoe paddles."

A measured beat stole out of the silence, increasing until it broke
sharply through the tranquil lapping of the water. Then, far up the
glittering lake, a dim black bar crept out into the moonlight and by
degrees grew plainer.

"Of course,