iring modesty which so characterized him, and which made him such a
contrast to the brilliant and self-conscious Mr. Stanford.

Rose descended to the breakfast next morning looking shy and queer.
Before the meal was over, however, the bashfulness, quite foreign to her
usual character, wore pretty well away, and she agreed to join a
sleighing-party over to Richelieu, a neighbouring village.

They were six in all--Kate and Mr. Stanford, Rose and Mr. La Touche,
Eeny and Doctor Frank. Sir Ronald Keith had departed some time
previously, for a tour through the country with Lord Ellerton, and his
memory was a thing of the past already.

The Captain, an hour after their departure, sought out Grace in the
dining-room, where she sat at work. He looked grave and anxious, and,
sitting down beside her, said what he had to say with many misgivings.

"I am double her age," he thought. "I have a son old enough to be her
husband; how can I hope?"

But for all that he talked, and Grace listened, her sewing lying idly in
her lap; one hand shading her face, the other held in his. He talked
long and earnestly, and she listened, silent and with shaded face.

"And now Grace, my dear, you have heard all; what do you say? When I
lose my girls, shall I go back to the old life, or shall I stay? I can't
stay unless you say yes, Grace. I am double your age, but I love you
very dearly, and will do my best to make you happy. My dear, what do you
say?" She looked up at him for the first time, her eyes full of tears.

"Yes!"

CHAPTER XIV.

TRYING TO BE TRUE.

Late that evening, the sleighing party returned in high good
spirits--all exhilaration after their long drive through the frosty air.
Crescent moon and silver stars spangled the deep Canadian sky,
glittering coldly bright in the hard white snow, as they jingled merrily
up to the door.

"Oh, what a night!" Kate cried. "It is profanation to go indoors."

"It is frostbitten noses to stay out," answered Reginald. "Moonlight is
very well in its place; but I want my dinner."

The sleighing party had had one dinner that day, but were quite ready
for another. They had stopped at noon at a country inn, and fared
sumptuously on fried ham and eggs and sour Canadian bread, and then had
gone off rambling up the hills and into the woods.

How it happened, no one but Reginald Stanford ever knew; but it did
happen that Kate was walking beside Jules La Touche up a steep, snowy
hill, and Re