us sort.
He was always happy because he made other people so, but to be able to
make Rod happy; that was his crowning joy.

Roderick was more afraid than happy. It seemed too good to be true,
that she was here with him alone. At first he could do nothing but
look at her in silence. She was so much more beautiful than he had
thought, with that new radiance in her eyes. And then his own brief
happiness waned, as he wondered miserably if it had been brought there
by Dick Wells.

She was the first to speak. "Are you getting quite strong again?" she
asked kindly.

"Oh yes, I am quite myself. I feel ready for any kind of work now."

"Then I suppose you will be going back to Montreal?"

"No." Roderick had made that decision long ago. "No, I could not go
with the firm that engaged me--now." He was thinking how impossible
those mining deals would be in the eyes of one who had been granted a
glimpse into the unseen. Henceforth he knew there was no such work for
him. "For mine eyes hath seen the King," he often repeated to himself.

She misunderstood him. "Oh," she said, "I thought--I was told that Mr.
Graham's lawyers wanted you, that the position had been kept for you."

"Yes, they were very kind, but I could not. Something happened that
made it impossible for me to take up their work again. So for the
present I am a fixture in Algonquin, until Lawyer Ed grows tired of me."

She laughed at that, for Lawyer Ed's love for Roderick was a proverb in
Algonquin. He had never heard her laugh before. The sound was very
musical.

"You will stay a long time then," she said. "Algonquin is a good place
to live in."

"You like it?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes, ever so much. I shall be sorry to leave at the mid-summer
vacation."

Roderick's heart stood still. "I--I didn't know," he faltered. "I
thought you were staying for the whole year."

She looked up at him, and then her eyes fell. The mingled adoration
and hunger and dismay written plainly in the Lad's frank eyes were
impossible to misunderstand. She had seen that look there before many
times in the past winter. She had been afraid of it then, and she had
run away from his good-bye that snowy day when he had left Algonquin.
For then she had not wanted to see that look in the eyes of any man.
She had seen it once before and had yielded to its spell, and the
love-light had died out and left her life desolate. But since she had
last talked with Roderick