there always, to comfort her, to be nearer her than any living thing?
Reluctantly she gave it back to the nurse, wistfully her eyes followed
it....

Twice a week, now, Delphin and Herve made the journey to Saint Hubert,
and one evening, after Janet had watched them paddling across the little
bay that separated the camp from the outlet's mouth, Mrs. Maturin
appeared, with an envelope in her hand.

"I've got a letter from Brooks Insall, Janet," she said, with a
well-disguised effort to speak naturally. "It's not the first one he's
sent me, but I haven't mentioned the others. He's in Silliston--and I
wrote him about the daughter."

"Yes," said Janet.

"Well--he wants to come up here, to see you, before we go away. He asks
me to telegraph your permission."

"Oh no, he mustn't, Mrs. Maturin!"

"You don't care to see him?"

"It isn't that. I'd like to see him if things had been different. But now
that I've disappointed him--hurt him, I couldn't stand it. I know it's
only his kindness."

After a moment Augusta Maturin handed Janet a sealed envelope she held in
her hand.

"He asked me to give you this," she said, and left the room. Janet read
it, and let it fall on the bedspread, where it was still lying when her
friend returned and began tidying the room. From the direction of the
guide's cabin, on the point, came the sounds of talk and laughter, broken
by snatches of habitant songs. Augusta Maturin smiled. She pretended not
to notice the tears in Janet's eyes, and strove to keep back her own.

"Delphin and Herve saw a moose in the decharge," she explained. "Of
course it was a big one, it always is! They're telling the doctor about
it."

"Mrs. Maturin," said Janet, "I'd like to talk to you. I think I ought to
tell you what Mr. Insall says."

"Yes, my dear," her friend replied, a little faintly, sitting down on the
bed.

"He asks me to believe what--I've done makes no difference to him. Of
course he doesn't put it in so many words, but he says he doesn't care
anything about conventions," Janet continued slowly. "What I told him
when he asked me to marry him in Silliston was a shock to him, it was so
--so unexpected. He went away, to Maine, but as soon as he began to think
it all over he wanted to come and tell me that he loved me in spite of
it, but he felt he couldn't, under the circumstances, that he had to wait
until--now. Although I didn't give him any explanation, he wants me to
know that he trusts me, h