iry stories in a way that I must believe
them, Philip. Day before yesterday your sleeves were up when you were
paddling, and there was nothing wrong with this arm--this
forearm--then. But I'm not going to question you. You don't want me to
know." In the same breath she recalled his attention to her father and
mother. "I told you they were lovers. Look!"

As if she had been a little child John Adare had taken his wife up in
his arms and sat her high on the trunk of a fallen tree that was still
held four or five feet above the ground by a crippled spruce. Philip
heard him laugh. He saw the wife lean over, still clinging for safety
to her husband's shoulders.

"It is beautiful," he said.

Josephine spoke as if she had not heard him.

"I do not believe there is another man in the world quite like my
father. I cannot understand how a woman could cease to love such a man
as he even for a day--an hour. She couldn't forget, could she?"

There was something almost plaintive in her question. As if she feared
an answer, she went on quickly:

"He has made her happy. She is almost forty--thirty-nine her last
birthday. She does not look that old. She has been happy. Only
happiness keeps one young. And he is fifty. If it wasn't for his beard,
I believe he would appear ten years younger. I have never known him
without a beard; I like him that way. It makes him look 'beasty'--and I
love beasts."

She ran ahead of him, and John Adare lifted his wife down from the tree
when they joined them. This time Josephine took her mother's arm. At
the door to Adare House she turned to the two men, and said:

"Mother and I have a great deal to talk over, and we are scheming not
to see you again until dinner time. Little Daddy, you can go to your
foxes. And please keep Philip out of mischief."

The dogs had followed her close to the door. As the men entered after
Josephine and her mother, Philip paused for a moment to look at the
pack. A dozen of them had already settled themselves upon their bellies
in the snow.

"The Grand Guard," chuckled Adare, waiting for him. "Come, Philip. I'm
going to follow Mignonne's suggestion and do some work on my foxes.
Jean had a splendid surprise for me when I returned--a magnificent
black. This is the dull season, when I can amuse myself only by writing
and experimenting. A little later, when the furs begin to come in,
there will be plenty of life at Adare House."

"Do you buy many furs?" asked Philip.