Mrs. Keith was left with Harding. They were,
in many ways, strangely assorted companions--the elderly English lady
accustomed to the smoother side of life, and the young American who had
struggled hard from boyhood--but they were sensible of a mutual liking.
Mrs. Keith had a trace of the grand manner, which had its effect on
Harding; he showed a naive frankness which she found attractive.
Besides, his talk and conduct were marked by a labored correctness
which amused and pleased her. She thought he had taken some trouble to
acquire it.

"So you had to leave your wife at home," she said presently. "Wasn't
that rather hard for both of you?"

"It was hard enough," he replied with feeling. "What made it worse was
that I hadn't much money to leave with her; but I had to go. The man
who will take no chances has to stay at the bottom."

"Then, if it's not an impertinence, your means are small?"

"Your interest is a compliment. We had two hundred dollars when we
were married. You wouldn't consider that much to begin on?"

"No. Still, of course, it depends upon what one expects. After all, I
think my poorest friends have been happiest."

"We had only one trouble--making the money go round," Harding told her
with grave confidence. "It was worst in the hot weather, when other
people could move out of town, and it hurt me to see Marianna looking
white and tired. I used to wish I could send her to one of the farms
up in the hills--though I guess she wouldn't have gone without me.
She's brave, and when my chance came she saw that I must take it. She
sent me off with smiles; but I knew what they cost."

"Courage to face a hard task is a great gift. So you consider this
trip to the Northwest your opportunity? You must expect to sell a good
deal of paint."

Harding looked up with a sudden twinkle.

"I'll admit to you, ma'am, that I expect to sell very little. The
company will pay my commission on any orders I get at the settlements,
but this is my venture, not theirs. I'm going up into the wilds to
look for a valuable raw material."

"Ah!" said Mrs. Keith. "I suspected something like this. It's
difficult to imagine Dick Blake's going into anything so sober and
matter-of-fact as the paint business. Have you known him long?"

"I met him a year ago, and we spent two or three weeks together."

"But was that long enough to learn much about him? Do you know his
history?"

Harding gave her a direct glance.