sfactory
with you away. There's just no one suits me in this house like you. But
the thing I'm most glad about is your success. That's been wonderful. I
felt you would make good, but I didn't know how good. Now I'm going to
ring this fellow up and fix things to see him. Meanwhile you get your
big report of the camps ready for the Board. Then, when you're ready,
I'm going to let them see you, and hear it all from you first hand, and
I'm going to get them to give you the head of the forestry department
right here. It'll be a mighty jump, but--well--"

Nancy was on her feet and her eyes were shining a gratitude which words
could never express. Impulsively she held out a hand in ardent thanks.

"Why, say--" she began.

The man had seized the delicate tapering fingers and held them warmly in
the palms of both of his.

"Now just don't say a thing," he said. "I know. I know just how you
feel, and the things you want to say. But don't. You've earned the best,
and I'm going to see you get it. I'm going to lose a smart secretary,
but I don't care if I make one good little friend. Now, Nancy, what
about to-night? I think we ought to celebrate your triumphant return
with a little dinner up at the Chateau. What say? Will you--honour me?
Eight o'clock. Thank goodness we're not a dry country yet, and it's
still possible to enjoy our successful moments properly. Will you?"

Nancy longed to withdraw the hand the man still held. It was curious.
Every word he said expressed just those things and tributes which her
girlish vanity had desired. There was not a word in all of it to give
offence. But for the second time she experienced a sense of trouble
which her woman's instinct prompted, and a feeling akin to panic
stirred. But she resisted it, as she knew she must, and her mind was
quite made up.

"You're--very kind," she said, with all the earnestness she could
summon, and with a gentleness that was intended to disarm. "But I'm so
very--very tired. You don't know what it was like on the _Myra_. We were
battered and beaten almost to death. I feel as if I needed sleep for a
week."

The man released her hand lingeringly. His disappointment was intense,
but he smiled.

"Why, sure," he said, "if you feel that way. I hadn't thought."

Then he turned abruptly back to his desk. "That's all right. Guess
we'll leave it. You go right home and get your rest."

For a moment Nancy hesitated. She was fearful of giving offence. She
felt the