He was not made to live alone." His penetrating eyes in his ugly well-bred face searched the features of his companion.

Elizabeth bore it smiling, without flinching.
A fortnight passed--and Elizabeth and Philip were on their way home through the heat of July.

Once more the railway which had become their kind familiar friend sped them through the prairies, already whitening to the harvest, through the Ontarian forests and the Ottawa valley.

The wheat was standing thick on the illimitable earth; the plains in their green or golden dress seemed to laugh and sing under the hot dome of sky.

Again the great Canadian spectacle unrolled itself from west to east, and the heart Elizabeth brought to it was no longer the heart of a stranger.