f sand, Michabou
made the world."

"That's it," he said. "Now what is it?"

"The Indian story of creation--or one of them."

"Not a story of the plain Indians surely."

"No; of the Indians who live about the lakes and so got the idea that
everything was water in the first place--the Indians who live on the
islands and peninsulas. That's how I came to know it."

"I thought that must be it," Alan said. His hand trembled a little as
he lifted his coffee cup to his lips.

Constance too flushed a little with excitement; it was a surprisingly
close and intimate thing to have explored with another back into the
concealments of his first child consciousness, to have aided another in
the sensitive task of revealing himself to himself. This which she had
helped to bring back to him must have been one of the first stories
told him; he had been a very little boy, when he had been taken to
Kansas, away from where he must have heard this story--the lakes. She
was a little nervous also from watching the time as told by the tiny
watch on her wrist. Henry's train from Duluth must be in now; and he
had not yet called her, as had been his custom recently, as soon as he
returned to town after a trip. But, in a minute, a servant entered to
inform her that Mr. Spearman wished to speak to her. She excused
herself to Alan and hurried out. Henry was calling her from the
railroad station and, he said, from a most particularly stuffy booth
and, besides having a poor connection, there was any amount of noise
about him; but he was very anxious to see Constance as soon as
possible. Could she be in town that morning and have luncheon with
him? Yes; she was going down-town very soon and, after luncheon, he
could come home with her if he wished. He certainly did wish, but he
couldn't tell yet what he might have to do in the afternoon, but please
would she save the evening for him. She promised and started to tell
him about Alan, then recollected that Henry was going to see her father
immediately at the office.

Alan was standing, waiting for her, when she returned to the breakfast
room.

"Ready to go down-town?" she asked.

"Whenever you are."

"I'll be ready in a minute. I'm planning to drive; are you afraid?"

He smiled in his pleasant way as he glanced over her; she had become
conscious of saying that sort of thing to tempt the smile. "Oh, I'll
take the risk."

CHAPTER VII

THE DEED IN TRUST

Her little gasol