lid hue which grief had imprinted there. Still,
she looked kindly, though seriously, at Pathfinder and even endeavored
to force a smile.

"Very true, my excellent friend," she answered; "this was my poor
father's wish, and I feel certain that a whole life devoted to your
welfare and comforts could scarcely repay you for all you have done for
us."

"I fear me, Mabel, that man and wife needs be bound together by a
stronger tie than such feelings, I do. You have done nothing for me,
or nothing of any account, and yet my very heart yearns towards you,
it does; and therefore it seems likely that these feelings come from
something besides saving scalps and guiding through woods."

Mabel's cheek had begun to glow again; and though she struggled hard to
smile, her voice trembled a little as she answered.

"Had we not better postpone this conversation, Pathfinder?" she said;
"we are not alone; and nothing is so unpleasant to a listener, they say,
as family matters in which he feels no interest."

"It's because we are not alone, Mabel, or rather because Jasper is with
us, that I wish to talk of this matter. The Sergeant believed I might
make a suitable companion for you, and, though I had misgivings about
it,--yes, I had many misgivings,--he finally persuaded me into the idee,
and things came round 'atween us, as you know. But, when you promised
your father to marry me, Mabel, and gave me your hand so modestly, but
so prettily, there was one circumstance, as your uncle called it, that
you didn't know; and I've thought it right to tell you what it is,
before matters are finally settled. I've often taken a poor deer for my
dinner when good venison was not to be found; but it's as nat'ral not to
take up with the worst when the best may be had."

"You speak in a way, Pathfinder, that is difficult to be understood. If
this conversation is really necessary, I trust you will be more plain."

"Well then, Mabel, I've been thinking it was quite likely, when you gave
in to the Sergeant's wishes, that you did not know the natur' of Jasper
Western's feelings towards you?"

"Pathfinder!" and Mabel's cheek now paled to the livid hue of death;
then it flushed to the tint of crimson; and her whole frame shuddered.
Pathfinder, however, was too intent on his own object to notice this
agitation; and Eau-douce had hidden his face in his hands in time to
shut out its view.

"I've been talking with the lad; and, on comparing his dreams with m