o early."

Philip waved to her as she spoke, shouting something which the mountain
echoes absorbed. He was accompanied by a young man, who seemed to be
attached to the hotel as guide, fisherman, hunter--at the pleasure of
visitors. But Elizabeth had already discovered that he had the speech of
a gentleman, and attended the University of Manitoba during the winter.
In the absence of Anderson, Philip had no doubt annexed him for
the morning.

There was a pile of logs lying on the lake side. Philip, rod in hand,
began to scramble over them to a point where several large trunks
overhung deep water. His companion meanwhile was seated on the moss,
busy with some preparations.

"I hope Philip will be careful," said Delaine, suddenly. "There is
nothing so slippery as logs."

Elizabeth, who had been dreaming, looked up anxiously. As she did so
Philip, high perched on the furthest logs, turned again to shout to his
sister, his light figure clear against the sunlit distance. Then the
figure wavered, there was a sound of crashing wood, and Philip fell
head-foremost into the lake before him.

The young man on the bank looked up, threw away his rod and his coat,
and was just plunging into the lake when he was anticipated by another
man who had come running down the bank of the hotel, and was already in
the water. Elizabeth, as she rushed along the edge, recognized Anderson.
Philip seemed to have disappeared; but Anderson dived, and presently
emerged with a limp burden. The guide was now aiding him, and between
them they brought young Gaddesden to land. The whole thing passed so
rapidly that Delaine and Elizabeth, running at full speed, had hardly
reached the spot before Anderson was on the shore, bearing the lad
in his arms.

Elizabeth bent over him with a moan of anguish. He seemed to her dead.

"He has only fainted," said Anderson peremptorily. "We must get him
in." And he hurried on, refusing Delaine's help, carrying the thin body
apparently with ease along the path and up the steps to the hotel. The
guide had already been sent flying ahead to warn the household.

Thus, by one of the commonplace accidents of travel, the whole scene was
changed for this group of travellers. Philip Gaddesden would have taken
small harm from his tumble into the lake, but for the fact that the
effects of rheumatic fever were still upon him. As it was, a certain
amount of fever, and some heart-symptoms that it was thought had been
overcome, r