it was gathered in a heavy, shimmering coronet
about her head. There was a flutter of lace at her throat, and little
fluffs of it at her wrists. She was more beautiful, more than ever like
the queen of a kingdom as she stood before him now. And she was alone.
He saw that in his first swift glance.

"You didn't eat the prunes?" she asked, and for the first time he saw a
bit of laughter in her eyes.

"No--I--I kicked the fire from under them," he said.

He caught the significance of her words, and her sudden sidewise
gesture. A short distance from them was a small tent, and on the grass
in front of the tent was spread a white cloth, on which was a meal such
as he had not looked upon for two years.

"I am glad," she said, and again her eyes met his with their glow of
friendly humour. "They might have spoiled your appetite, and I have
made up my mind that I want you to have dinner with me. I can't offer
you pie or doughnuts. But I have a home-made fruit cake, and a pot of
jam that I made myself. Will you join me?"

They sat down, with the feast between them, and the girl leaned over to
turn him a cup of tea from a pot that was already made and waiting. Her
lovely head was near him, and he stared with hungry adoration at the
thick, shining braids, and the soft white contour of her cheek and
neck. She leaned back suddenly, and caught him. The words that were on
her lips remained unspoken. The laughter went from her eyes. In a hot
wave the blood flushed his own face.

"Forgive me if I do anything you don't understand," he begged. "For
weeks past I have been wondering how I would act when I met white
people again. Perhaps you can't understand. But eighteen months up
there--eighteen months without the sound of a white woman's voice,
without a glimpse of her face, with only dreams to live on--will make
me queer for a time. Can't you understand--a little?"

"A great deal," she replied so quickly that she put him at ease again.
"Back there I couldn't quite believe you. I am beginning to now. You
are honest. But let us not talk of ourselves until after dinner. Do you
like the cake?"

She had given him a piece as large as his fist, and he bit off the end
of it.

"Delicious!" he cried instantly. "Think of it--nothing but bannock,
bannock, bannock for two years, and only six ounces of that a day for
the last six months! Do you care if I eat the whole of it--the cake, I
mean?"

Seriously she began cutting the remainder of t