We march together.

But Canada will have her own history; and you must not try to make it for her." Their eyes met; in hers exaltion, in his a touch of sternness, a moment's revelation of the Covenanter in his soul.
Then as the delightful vision of her among the flowers, in her white dress, the mountains behind and around her, imprinted itself on his senses, he was conscious of a moment of intolerable pain.

Between her and him--as it were--the abyss opened.

The trembling waves of colour in the grass, the noble procession of the clouds, the gleaming of the snows, the shadow of the valleys--they were all wiped out.

He saw instead a small unsavoury room--the cunning eyes and coarse mouth of his father.