he caught a glint of tears in
her eyes. He was immediately conscience-stricken and acutely aware
that he had not treated Jane with the consideration that their long and
unique friendship demanded. True, he had been busy, but he could have
found time for a few minutes with her. Jane was no ordinary friend. He
had not considered her and this had deeply wounded her. And to-morrow
he was going away, and going away not to return. He was surprised at the
quick stab of pain that came with the thought that his days in Winnipeg
were over. In all likelihood his life's work would take him to Alberta.
This meant that when he left Winnipeg tomorrow there would be an end to
all that delightful comradeship with Jane which during the years of his
long and broken college course had formed so large a part of his life,
and which during the past winter had been closer and dearer than ever.
Their lives would necessarily drift apart. Other friends would come in
and preoccupy her mind and heart. Jane had the art of making friends
and of "binding her friends to her with hooks of steel." He had been
indulging the opinion that of all her friends he stood first with her.
Even if he were right, he could not expect that this would continue. And
now on their last evening together, through his selfish stupidity, he
had hurt her as never in all the years they had been friends together.
But Jane was a sensible girl. He would make that right at once. She was
the one girl he knew that he could treat with perfect frankness. Most
girls were afraid, either that you were about to fall in love with them,
or that you would not. Neither one fear nor the other disturbed the
serenity of Jane's soul.

As Jane re-entered the room, Larry sprang to meet her. "Jane," he said
in a low, eager tone, "I am going to take you to the party."

But Jane was her own serene self again, and made answer, "There is no
need, Larry. Mr. MacLean will see us safely there, and after the meeting
you will come. We must go now, Ethel." There was no bitterness in her
voice. Instead, there was about her an air of gentle self-mastery,
remote alike from pain and passion, that gave Larry the feeling that the
comfort he had thought to bring was so completely unnecessary as to seem
an impertinence. Jane walked across to where Frank Smart was standing
and engaged him in an animated conversation.

As Larry watched her, it gave him a quick sharp pang to remember that
Frank Smart was a friend of o