l back
again. Then, he took off the big coat and sat down with a little smile of
contentment beside the glowing stove on which Miss Schuyler was placing a
kettle.

"Well," he said, "I am afraid you will have to put up with my company
until that fellow goes away; and I need not tell you that this is very
nice for me. One hasn't much time to feel it, but it's dreadfully lonely
at Fremont now and then."

Hetty nodded sympathetically, for she had seen the great desolate room at
Fremont where Grant and Breckenridge passed the bitter nights alone. The
man's half-audible sigh was also very expressive, for after his grim life
he found the brightness and daintiness of the little room very pleasant.
It was sparely furnished; but there was taste in everything, and in
contrast with Fremont its curtains, rugs, and pictures seemed luxurious.
Without were bitter frost and darkness, peril, and self-denial; within,
warmth and refinement, and the companionship of two cultured women who
were very gracious to him. He also knew that he had shut himself out from
the enjoyment of their society of his own will, that he had but to make
terms with Torrance, and all that one side of his nature longed for might
be restored to him.

Larry was as free from sensuality as he was from asceticism; but there
were times when the bleak discomfort at Fremont palled upon him, as did
the loneliness and half-cooked food. His overtaxed body revolted now and
then from further exposure to Arctic cold and the deprivation of needed
sleep, while his heart grew sick with anxiety and the distrust of those he
was toiling for. He was not a fanatic, and had very slight sympathy with
the iconoclast, for he had an innate respect for the law, and vague
aspirations after an ampler life made harmonious by refinement, as well as
a half-comprehending reverence for all that was best in art and music.
There are many Americans like him, and when such a man turns reformer he
has usually a hard row, indeed, to hoe.

"What do you do up there at nights?" asked Hetty.

Larry laughed. "Sometimes Breckenridge and I sit talking by the stove, and
now and then we quarrel. Breckenridge has taste, and generally smooths one
the right way; but there are times when I feel like throwing things at
him. Then we sit quite still for hours together listening to the wind
moaning, until one of the boys comes in to tell me we are wanted, and it
is a relief to drive until morning with the frost at fi