wife and himself. The kiddies had been put
to bed.

"I--I feel that--that I am deserting you, that you trusted me to help
you with a splendid work," she said, with head bent down.

"That is not so," the man answered gravely. "Remember what I told you
when I was trying to enlist you. I say that more than for any other
purposes, we wanted women, good women, to come and become the mothers
of the strong, fine breed that can alone master our wilderness. Hugo
is one of those fellows of brawn and brain who are working towards the
common happiness in establishing his own. He needs a helper he can
love and trust and cherish, one who will in herself be the biggest
reward he can ever gain, and make him feel that the bigger part of the
purpose of his life has been secured with your promise to marry him.
To me the sick and the halt are paramount--but they will have to wait
a little. In some way or other they will be looked after, I promise
you, for no man in a responsible position can be anything but a
problem-solver, in these places, and I'll find someone, never fear."

"Yours will be the more important occupation now, my dear," said the
doctor's wife; "you'll be in the front ranks of the fighters."

So the doctor went away and the two women made the sewing-machine hum,
and cut and basted and threaded needles. Together they managed to put
together all that was indispensable and to discard the frivolous, as
became the wives of pioneers.

Two or three weeks went by very fast and one day Sophy McGurn, from
behind the shop-window, saw Hugo Ennis standing on the platform of the
little station at Carcajou. With him was big Stefan, clad in his best,
and the entire Papineau family. Most of the children were about to
take the very first railway journey of their lives and the excitement
was intense and prolonged. Finally the train came puffing along and
went away again, panting on the upgrade, while Miss Sophy bit her
nails hard.

There is no doubt that Stefan had kept still, since he had been
requested to. No one else in Carcajou knew anything as to the
inwardness of the girl's coming, of Sophy's share in it, or of the
discovery by the doctor of the latter's duplicity. And yet there was
an element in Carcajou that frowned upon the young lady. Her
accusation had been reported far and wide. To the settlers of the
place her suspicions had seemed uncalled-for and bespeaking a mean and
vicious disposition. Hugo, after all, had been every