ne so, Justin had
gathered; and from Hermia's reminiscences of camp life she seemed to
have enjoyed it. If he, Justin, had been in Blachland's place, not for
a single day should she have been away from him. But then, Justin was
very young, and all the circumstances and surroundings went to make him
think that way.

He had known these people for some months, but _of_ them he knew
nothing. The hard, reticent, self-reliant up-country trader was not the
man to make a confidant of one whom he regarded as a mere callow youth.
But he had been very kind to Justin, and had held out a helping hand to
him on more than one occasion. Hermia, for her part, had merely noted
that the young man was very handsome and well set up, and that in about
a week he was desperately in love with herself. There were two or three
others of whom the latter held good, even in that remote region, but
they awakened no reciprocal feeling in her. She would keep them
dangling simply as a mere matter of habit; but Justin Spence had touched
a responsive chord within her. It was one of a sheerly physical nature,
but she had more and more grown to look forward to his visits, and we
must admit that she had not long to look.

The more he thought it over the less he liked it. He could not even lay
the spurious balm to his soul that "every man for himself" was the maxim
which justified everything--that the glorious fascinations of this woman
went wholly unappreciated by the man who should have been the one of all
others to prize them, and therefore were reserved and destined for
another, and that himself. This sort of reasoning somehow would not do.
It struck him as desperately thin in the cool judicial hour of waking.
He had behaved shabbily towards Blachland, and, the worst of it was, he
knew he should go on doing so. And as though to confirm him in that
conviction, at that moment the voice of the siren, clear but soft, was
borne to his ears.

What had become of all his misgivings now, as he sprang out of bed, his
one and only thought that of joining her as soon as possible? The
voice, however, was not addressed to him. It was merely raised in
commonplace command to the small Mashuna boys. What a lovely voice it
was! he thought to himself, pausing to listen, lest the splashing of his
tub should cause him to lose a tone of it: and he was right so far.
Hermia owned a beautiful speaking voice, and it constituted not the
least of her fascinations. R