all, she was
young, and could take a certain pleasure in the infrequent festivities
of her adopted country. Besides, the forest ranchers dance well, and
there were men among them who had once followed other occupations;
while she knew that Nasmyth would be there--in fact, having at length
raised his dam to the desired level, he would be to a certain extent
an honoured guest. She was not exactly sure how she regarded him,
though it was not altogether as a comrade, and she felt there was, in
one sense, some justice in his admission that he belonged to her. She
had, in all probability, saved his life, and--what was, perhaps, as
much--had roused him from supine acquiescence, and inspired him with a
sustaining purpose. After the day when she had saved him from abject
despair over his ruined dam, he had acquitted himself valiantly, and
she had a quiet pride in him. Moreover, she was aware of a natural
desire to appear to advantage at the approaching dance.

There was, however, difficulty to be grappled with. The dress was old,
and when remade in a later style would be unfortunately plain. The few
pairs of gloves she had brought from England were stained and spotted
with damp, and her eyes grew wistful as she turned over the stock list
of a Victoria dry goods store. The thing would be so easy, if she had
only a little more money, but she sighed as she glanced into her
purse. Then she took up the gloves and a strip of trimming, and looked
at them with a little frown, but while she did so there were footsteps
outside, and the door was opened. A man, whom she recognized as a
hired hand from a ranch in the neighbourhood, stood in the entrance
with a packet in his hand.

"I won't come in," he said. "I met Nasmyth down at the settlement.
He'd just come back from Victoria, and he asked me to bring this
along."

He went away after he had handed her the packet, and a gleam of
pleasure crept into Laura's eyes when she opened it. There was first
of all a box of gloves of various colours, and then inside another
packet a wonderful piece of lace. The artistic delicacy of the lace
appealed to her, for though she possessed very few dainty things she
was fond of them, and she almost fancied that she had not seen
anything of the kind more beautiful in England.

As she unfolded it a strip of paper fell out, and the warm blood
swept into her face as she read the message on it.

"Considering everything, I really don't think you could regard