in request, and she knew it.

But Anderson, though he had led up to it, did not apparently enjoy it;
on the contrary, she felt him gradually withdrawing and cooling,
becoming a little dry and caustic, even satirical, as on the first
afternoon of their acquaintance. So that after a while her gossip
flagged; since the game wants two to play it. Then Anderson walked on
with a furrowed brow, and raised colour; and she could not imagine what
had been done or said to annoy him.

She could only try to lead him back to Canada. But she got little or no
response.

"Our politics must seem to you splashes in a water-butt," he said
impatiently, "after London and Europe."

"A pretty big water-butt!"

"Size makes no difference." Elizabeth's lips twitched as she remembered
Arthur Delaine's similar protests; but she kept her countenance, and
merely worked the harder to pull her companion out of this odd pit of
ill-humour into which he had fallen. And in the end she succeeded; he
repented, and let her manage him as she would. And whether it was the
influence of this hidden action and reaction between their minds, or of
the perfumed June day breathing on them from the pines, or of the giant
splendour of Mount Burgess, rising sheer in front of them out of the
dark avenue of the forest, cannot be told; but, at least, they became
more intimate than they had yet been, more deeply interesting each to
the other. In his thoughts and ideals she found increasing fascination;
her curiosity, her friendly and womanly curiosity, grew with
satisfaction. His view of life was often harsh or melancholy; but there
was never a false nor a mean note.

Yet before the walk was done he had startled her. As they turned back
towards Field, and were in the shadows of the pines, he said, with
abrupt decision:

"Will you forgive me if I say something?"

She looked up surprised.

"Don't let your brother drink so much champagne!"

The colour rushed into Elizabeth's face. She drew herself up, conscious
of sharp pain, but also of anger. A stranger, who had not yet known them
ten days! But she met an expression on his face, timid and yet
passionately resolved, which arrested her.

"I really don't know what you mean, Mr. Anderson!" she said proudly.

"I thought I had seen you anxious. I should be anxious if I were you,"
he went on hurriedly. "He has been ill, and is not quite master of
himself. That is always the critical moment. He is a charming
fellow--