, with his lean, symmetrical
litheness, his pleasant English face, his clear eyes, and his clean,
bronzed skin, was certainly well-favored physically, and she began to
wonder whether her companion could not have gone further in her
comments; until she remembered again that the commencement of a good
many troubles is probably woman's curiosity.

The canoes were launched after breakfast, and it was afternoon when
they pitched camp beside a still, blue lake. Then Major Kinnaird
strolled away with a trout-rod to a neighboring rapid, and Mrs.
Kinnaird went to sleep in a hammock. Her daughter got out her
sketch-book, and sitting down among the boulders bade Ida summon
Weston. He came, and stood looking at them inquiringly, picturesque in
his wide hat and his fringed deerskin jacket. Miss Kinnaird pursed up
her face.

"I want to make a sketch of you. You have rather a good head," she
said.

Weston gazed at her a moment in astonishment, and then a twinkle crept
into his eyes. Her matter-of-fact brusqueness, which made it perfectly
plain that his views in the matter did not count, might have roused a
sense of opposition in some men, but he had acquired a wide toleration
in western Canada.

"Shall I stand here, miss?" he asked.

"No," said the girl, "a little farther to the right, where the
sunlight falls upon the trunks behind you; but you mustn't look
wooden. That will do. Still, you'll have to take off that jacket. It's
frippery."

The suspicion of a flush crept into Weston's face; but, after all, a
loose blue shirt and duck trousers are considered dress enough in the
bush of the Pacific Slope, and he discarded the offending jacket. Miss
Kinnaird, however, was not quite satisfied.

"Can't you take up that ax and look as if you were ready to use it?"
she said. "Oh, no! That is far too much like a waxwork! Hold up your
head a little! Now, don't move any more than you can help! I think
that will do."

Weston stood as he was for the best part of an hour. He felt inclined
to wonder why he did it, as he had not found shoveling gravel anything
like so difficult. Then Miss Kinnaird informed him that, as she
desired to make a study of the background, she would not keep him any
longer; and he strolled away to the waterside, where, after stretching
himself wearily, he lay down and took out his pipe. He had not been
there long when Ida, who came out from among the trees, sat down on
one of the boulders not far from him.

"Yo