And now it was as though she were vulgarly conscious of wealth and ancestry as dividing her from him.

The wildness within her which found its scope and its voice in Canada was here like an imprisoned stream, chafing in caverns underground.

Ah! it had been easy to defy the Old World in Canada, its myriad voices and claims--the many-fingered magic with which an old society plays on those born into it! "I shall be here perhaps a month," said Anderson, "but then I shall be wanted at Ottawa." And he began to describe a new matter in which he had been lately engaged--a large development scheme applying to some of the great Peace River region north of Edmonton.

And as he told her of his August journey through this noble country, with its superb rivers, its shining lakes and forests, and its scattered settlers, waiting for a Government which was their servant and not their tyrant, to come and help their first steps in ordered civilisation; to bring steamers to their waters, railways to link their settlements, and fresh settlers to let loose the fertile forces of their earth--she suddenly saw in him his old self--the Anderson who had sat beside her in the crossing of the prairies, who had looked into her eyes the day of Roger's Pass.

He had grown older and thinner; his hair was even lightly touched with grey.