oming mentally heavy
and stolid and too unemotional. Fred was so matter-of-fact! Her
eagerness to have Marion come into the mining-claim scheme had not
been altogether a friendly desire for companionship, as she pretended.
Deep in the back of her mind was the matchmaker's belief that
propinquity would prove a mighty factor in bringing these two together
in marriage. If they did marry, that would throw Marion's timber land
with Fred's and give Fred a good bit more than he would have with his
own claim alone, which was another reason why Kate had considered
their marriage an ideal arrangement.

Three weeks had changed Kate's desire, however. Three weeks is a long
time for two women to spend in one small cabin together with almost no
intercourse with the outside world. Little by little, Kate's opinion
of Marion had changed considerably. To go to shows with Marion, to
have her at the house for dinner and to spend a night now and then, to
lie relaxed upon a cot in the Martha Washington's beauty booth while
Marion ministered to her with soothing fingertips and agreeable
chatter, was one thing; to live uncomfortably--albeit
picturesquely--with Marion in a log cabin in the woods was quite
another thing.

Kate began to doubt whether Marion would make a suitable wife for
Fred. She had discovered that Marion was selfish, for one thing; being
selfish, she was also mercenary. Kate began to fear that Marion had
designs upon Fred for the sake of his timber claim; which was
altogether different, of course, from Kate's designs upon Marion's
timber claim! Besides, Marion was inclined to shirk her share of the
cooking and dishwashing, and when she made their bed and tidied the
crude little room they called their bedroom, she never so much as
pretended to hang up Kate's clothes. She would appropriate the nails
on the wall to her own uses, and lay Kate's clothes on Kate's trunk
and let it go at that. Any woman, Kate told herself, would resent such
treatment.

Then Marion was always going off alone and never asking Kate if she
would like to go along. That was inconsiderate, to say the least. And
look how she had acted about climbing the peak at Mount Hough, the day
they had gone to see the lake! Kate had wanted to go down to the
lake--but no--Marion had declared that it was more beautiful from the
rim, and had insisted upon climbing clear to the top of the peak, when
she knew perfectly well that the altitude was affecting Kate's heart.