stood for a moment gazing at
the golden glories of the setting sun. She stretched her arms out
with a quick, eager movement, as if asking for something she
yearned to possess, then dropped them to her side again, and
turning, proceeded to load the remainder of the packages and
bundles on to her own shoulders.

If only the river had not flowed between, Mary might have gone to
her assistance. As it was, she stood watching the bowed figure go
slowly up the portage path to disappear among the bushes, then she
also turned to retrace her steps to the hut. But the tired girl
was very much in Mary's thoughts that evening. Why had she
stretched out her arms to the glowing west with such a gesture of
entreaty? Of course it might have been just girlish
dissatisfaction with a toilsome, colourless life, or it might be
that there were ambitions and desires which had to be sternly
repressed.

"I wonder if we shall be friends?" she said presently, speaking
aloud because she had entirely forgotten that she was not alone.

"Friends with whom?" asked her father sleepily. He was still
sitting on the bench by the hut door, and Mary was leaning against
the doorpost. She had been standing so ever since she came down
the hill, and her thoughts were still busy with the girl who had
looked so tired and carried such heavy burdens.

"I have seen a girl this evening, such a pretty girl, and so
graceful in her movements, but she was doing a portage as if she
were a man, and I felt that I should like to know her," Mary
answered, her voice and manner more dreamy than usual. Indeed, it
seemed as if the place had laid a spell upon her already.

"Probably you will have what you want, and then you will find
yourself disappointed. You must not expect to find much refinement
and culture in a wild place like this," Mr. Selincourt said.

"I do not look for it. But however rough or illiterate this girl
may be, I think she has a soul, a longing for something she does
not possess," went on Mary, who was weaving fancies and theories
together in quite a remarkable fashion for her.

"Most women long for what they don't possess, and some men do the
same," replied Mr. Selincourt, laughing a little. Then he rose and
stretched himself, saying: "I believe I will go to bed, for I am so
tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open. It is so late that
Jervis Ferrars will hardly come to-night now, although I should
have been glad to see him, for I am rea