use she knew no possession. Mademoiselle, you
seem in every way to be a woman with whom it is wisest to have a clear
understanding."

"You need tell me nothing."

"It is better to tell the whole, now that you have stumbled on a part.
I was nothing to that woman whose face I carried with me. She did not
know I had the picture. I might never have told her. It was nothing,
you see. It was all in a man's mind, and the man now has sterner
matters to fill his thought. I would like you to wear this ring."

"Why not the other?"

I laughed at her a little. "I shall try not to give you spurious
metal,--even granted that our bargain is provisional. Now,
mademoiselle, may I take you to the lodge I have had made? In two
hours we are to be married."

She followed at my side, and I took her to the lodge, and pointed her
within. She glanced at what I had done, and I saw her bite her lip.
She turned to me without a smile.

"It all makes it harder," she said indefinitely. "Harder to think of
the wrong that I am doing you and the other woman."

I cannot abide misapprehension. We were alone. "Wait!" I begged.
"Mademoiselle, you cannot probe a man's thought. Often he cannot probe
his own. But I am not unhappy. A man marries many brides, and
Ambition, if the truth be told, is, perhaps, the dearest. I shall
embrace her. You should be able to understand."

"But the woman. She must have seen that you loved her. She may have
cared more in return than you knew."

I looked at her. "The lady of the miniature," I said slowly, "had many
lovers. If she showed me special favor, I assure you I did not know.
But even if her fancy did stray toward me,--which I think it did
not,--why, she was---- She was a winsome, softly smiling, gentle lady,
mademoiselle. She was not fire, and spirit, and courage, and loyalty,
and temper, and tenderness. No, she was not in the least like that. I
think that she would soon forget. Have we dropped this subject
forever, mademoiselle?"

She made me a grave curtsy. "Till we reach Montreal," she promised,
and she did not raise her eyes.

We were married at noon. The altar stood under an oak tree, and the
light sifted in patterns on the ground. I wore satin, and ribbon, and
shining buckle, for I carried those gewgaws in my cargo, but my finery
did not shame my bride's attire. She stood proud, and rounded, and
supple in her deerskins, and a man might have gloried in her. Seven
hundre