gun to recognise and be
aware of. This was a certain vague protective, almost maternal,
instinct. Perhaps it was because of his present weakness both of body
and character, or perhaps it was an element always to be found in the
deep and earnest love of any noble-hearted woman. She felt that she, not
as herself individually, but as a woman, was not only stronger than
Bennett, but in a manner older, more mature. She was conscious of depths
in her nature far greater than in his, and also that she was capable of
attaining heights of heroism, devotion, and sacrifice which he, for all
his masculine force, could not only never reach, but could not even
conceive of. It was this consciousness of her larger, better nature that
made her feel for Bennett somewhat as a mother feels for a son, a sister
for her younger brother. A great tenderness mingled with her affection,
a vast and almost divine magnanimity, a broad, womanly pity for his
shortcomings, his errors, his faults. It was to her he must look for
encouragement. It was for her to bind up and reshape the great energy
that had been so rudely checked, and not only to call back his strength,
but to guide it and direct into its appointed channels.

Lloyd returned toward the glass-enclosed veranda to find Bennett just
arousing from his nap. She drew the shawls closer about him and
rearranged the pillows under his head, and then sat down on the steps
near at hand.

"Tell me about this Captain Duane," she began. "Where is he now?"

Bennett yawned and passed his hand across his face, rubbing the sleep
from his eyes.

"What time is it? I must have slept over an hour. Duane? Why, you saw
what the paper said. I presume he is at Tasiusak."

"Do you think he will succeed? Do you think he will reach the Pole?
Adler thinks he won't."

"Oh, perhaps, if he has luck and an open season."

"But tell me, why does he take so many men? Isn't that contrary to the
custom? I know a great deal about arctic work. While you were away I
read every book I could get upon the subject. The best work has been
done with small expeditions. If you should go again--when you go again,
will you take so many? I saw you quoted somewhere as being in favour of
only six or eight men."

"Ten should be the limit--but some one else will make the attempt now.
I'm out of it. I tried and failed."

"Failed--you! The idea of you ever failing, of you ever giving up! Of
course it was all very well to joke this morning