ed sadly: "Ay, thou'lt take thy own road; it's
born in thee. Then follow it steadfastly, and God bless thee. Some day
I'll come back to Fairmead, but I must have time to get over this blow."

Ten minutes later we parted, and it was some hours after the Atlantic
express pulled out of Winnipeg before I recovered my serenity. I could not
forget the kindness of my dead cousin, who, in spite of sickness and
physical suffering, had so cleverly aided me in my time of need.

The next event of moment happened when Foster brought me a message from
Grace requesting my presence at the Manor on the following day. Most of
the men of Carrington were also expected, Foster said. I reached the Manor
at the appointed time, and made the latter portion of the journey in
company with several of the colonists, and it was with mingled curiosity
and reluctance that we gathered in the great hall.

Except that the air was warmer and there were flowers and feathery grasses
in the tall vases, it looked much the same as it did on our last eventful
visit, though there was now no grim figure in the carved oak chair. No one
knew why we had been summoned except Lyle and myself, and I did not know
wholly. So there was a buzz of curious whispers, until Lyle flung back the
doors, and Grace, followed by Miss Carrington, appeared in the opening.
They were dressed alike in some neutral-tinted fabric, and with one accord
the riders of Carrington rose to their feet, and stood fast and motionless
until with a queenly gesture Grace seated herself in the oaken chair.
Grace was younger than myself by two full years, but there was no trace of
diffidence about her as she looked down out of steady eyes at the men who,
as it were, did homage before her. Then deep silence followed as she said
with a perfect distinctness:

"It was fitting after what has happened that I should send for you. My
father founded this colony, and still nominally holds the greater portion
of the land in it. As you know, he has been stricken--and has lost his
reason; and accordingly the management of the estate devolves upon Miss
Carrington and myself--principally, under his last will, on myself. It is
a heavy responsibility for two women, to do the best, not only for
Carrington Manor, but for the Carrington colony, until it shall please the
Almighty to restore its founder--or grant him release. While the Manor
lands remain intact and the agreement binding, all that affects our
welfare affects