ely. The woods were in their gayest
autumn dress; the brown fields were bathed in a purple haze; the air was
sweet and fresh with a suspicion of the coming frosts of winter. But
in spite of all the road seemed long, and it was as if hours had gone
before our eyes fell upon the white manse standing among the golden
leaves.

'Let them go,' I cried, as Graeme paused to take in the view, and down
the sloping dusty road we flew on the dead run.

'Reminds one a little of Abe's curves,' said Graeme, as we drew up at
the gate. But I answered him not, for I was introducing to each other
the two best women in the world. As I was about to rush into the house,
Graeme seized me by the collar, saying--

'Hold on, Connor! you forget your place, you're next.'

'Why, certainly,' I cried, thankfully enough; 'what an ass I am!'

'Quite true,' said Graeme solemnly.

'Where is he?' I asked.

'At this present moment?' he asked, in a shocked voice. 'Why, Connor,
you surprise me.'

'Oh, I see!'

'Yes,' he went on gravely; 'you may trust my mother to be discreetly
attending to her domestic duties; she is a great woman, my mother.'

I had no doubt of it, for at that moment she came out to us with little
Marjorie in her arms.

'You have shown Mrs. Mavor to her room, mother, I hope,' said Graeme;
but she only smiled and said--

'Run away with your horses, you silly boy,' at which he solemnly shook
his head. 'Ah, mother, you are deep--who would have thought it of you?'

That evening the manse overflowed with joy, and the days that followed
were like dreams set to sweet music.

But for sheer wild delight, nothing in my memory can quite come up to
the demonstration organised by Graeme, with assistance from Nixon, Shaw,
Sandy, Abe, Geordie, and Baptiste, in honour of the arrival in camp
of Mr. and Mrs. Craig. And, in my opinion, it added something to the
occasion, that after all the cheers for Mr. and Mrs. Craig had died
away, and after all the hats had come down, Baptiste, who had never
taken his eyes from that radiant face, should suddenly have swept the
crowd into a perfect storm of cheers by excitedly seizing his tuque, and
calling out in his shrill voice--

'By gar! Tree cheer for Mrs. Mavor.'

And for many a day the men of Black Rock would easily fall into the old
and well-loved name; but up and down the line of construction, in all
the camps beyond the Great Divide, the new name became as dear as the
old had ever been in Bl