il her finger in its clear wave.

He, however, sat in hesitation, looking at her, the prey of thoughts to
which she had no clue. He could not make up his mind, though he had just
spent an almost sleepless night on the attempt to do it.

The silence became embarrassing. Then, if he still groped, she seemed to
see her way, and took it.

"It was very good of you to come out and join our wanderings," she said
suddenly. Her voice was clear and kind. He started.

"You know I could ask for nothing better," was his slow reply, not
without dignity. "It has been an immense privilege to see you like this,
day by day."

Elizabeth's pulse quickened.

"How can I manage it?" she desperately thought. "But I must--"

"That's very sweet of you," she said aloud, "when I have bored you so
with my raptures. And now it's coming to an end, like all nice things.
Philip and I think of staying a little in Vancouver. And the Governor
has asked us to go over to Victoria for a few days. You, I suppose, will
be doing the proper round, and going back by Seattle and San Francisco?"

Delaine received the blow--and understood it. There had been no
definite plans ahead. Tacitly, it had been assumed, he thought, that he
was to return with them to Montreal and England. This gentle question,
then, was Elizabeth's way of telling him that his hopes were vain and
his journey fruitless.

He had not often been crossed in his life, and a flood of resentment
surged up in a very perplexed mind.

"Thank you. Yes--I shall go home by San Francisco."

The touch of haughtiness in his manner, the manner of one accustomed all
his life to be a prominent and considered person in the world, did not
disguise from Elizabeth the soreness underneath. It was hard to hurt her
old friend. But she could only sit as though she felt nothing--meant
nothing--of any importance.

And she achieved it to perfection. Delaine, through all his tumult of
feeling, was sharply conscious of her grace, her reticence, her soft
dignity. They were exactly what he coveted in a wife--what he hoped he
had captured in Elizabeth. How was it they had been snatched from him?
He turned blindly on the obstacle that had risen in his path, and the
secret he had not yet decided how to handle began to run away with him.

He bent forward, with a slightly heightened colour.

"Lady Merton--we might not have another opportunity--will you allow me a
few frank words with you--the privilege of an old frie