re thrown on the market by an English holder. I believe you
gave some stock to friends over there?"

"I did. On condition that they didn't sell without consulting me."

"Then it seems that somebody must have gone back on you."

Weston's face grew a trifle flushed.

"I think," he said, "we'll let that subject drop altogether. It's a
rather painful one."

Stirling made a sign of comprehension.

"Well," he said, "I've other business on hand, and I guess Ida is
expecting you."

Weston took the hint; and not long afterward Ida was smiling up at him
with shining eyes. They had a good deal to tell each other, and some
time had passed when Ida said:

"We'll go back to the bush again as soon as the snow melts, if only
for a week or two." Then she flashed a quick glance at him. "That is,
unless you are longing for a trip to England."

A shadow crept into Weston's face as he remembered the six hundred
shares, but he smiled a moment later.

"No," he said. "We'll go over there together by and by--but not just
now. We'll camp beside the lake where I met you first, instead."

After a while Ida lifted his right hand gently, and glanced down at
the battered knuckles and broken nails.

"I'm glad it's hard and strong--strong enough to keep me safe. And
those scars will wear off, dear," she said. "There are scars of
another kind that don't--but with those you and I have nothing to do."

Then she looked up at him.

"Do you know what first made me think of you?"

"I don't," replied Weston, smiling. "In fact, I have often wondered."

"Then," said Ida, "I'll show you. I mentioned the picture once before,
but you didn't think it worth while to look at it. That was left to
me. I looked at it very often while you were away."

She led him across the room, and Weston started and flushed when she
took out the picture Arabella Kinnaird had made.

"No," said Ida, "I really don't think you have any reason to regret
your conduct that eventful evening."

"I never fancied that you or Miss Kinnaird saw me," laughed Weston.
"I'm afraid it was a remarkably foolish action."

"It was one of the little actions that have big results," said Ida.
And in this she was correct, for one must reap as one has sown. Then
she looked up at him.

"If you hadn't taken Grenfell's part that night you would not have
found the mine."

Weston smiled, and gripped the hand he held in a tightening clasp.

"The mine!" he said. "Grenfell gave me you!"