"Now you know perfectly well there is no imagination about it. It's life, just as Cale said; and it's my belief the Doctor will, in the end, get some track of that girl. If he does, it will be all up with the farm. Did you think of that?" "No!" I spoke the truth. I was amazed. It never occurred to me to connect the farm project with anything Cale had said. "I 'll wager he 'll compare notes with Cale on the way over to the station, and I 'm going to refer to the farm plan, if I have the chance after they get back, to see what he 'll say." "He won't think you 're interfering, will he?" "He can't." He spoke decidedly. "The farm project affects _me_, don't you see?" "Not exactly; how?" "Why, if--of course it's only an 'if'--the Doctor should find this girl, he would n't for a moment think of taking that money, which in justice if not in the law belongs to her, to further any of his plans. He is n't that kind of a man." "Of course not; but I don't see how--" "That's where you are obtuse. Look here, Marcia, how long do you suppose I can stand it to vegetate here in Canada? It's healthy, I agree to that, and doing me no end of good; but I can't see myself living here--existing, yes; but living, no! I'm better, stronger; and even if I were n't, I would n't play the coward either in life or death. As it is, I want to live my life full in my own way, among my own. I want to be in the thick of the fray, even if by being there I should go under a little sooner. I want to mingle with the multitude of men--see into their lives, give them something of mine in reality and through the imagination, and get their point of view into my life. I can't stay on indefinitely here in Canada; and if--if--" "If what?" "If the girl should be found, the farm project would amount to nothing. The Doctor sees, just as you and I see, that Ewart is not enthusiastic about it, and he is n't going to settle on Ewart's land with an unwelcome philanthropic scheme. And then--" "What?" I was becoming impatient. "Why, then, if it should fall through,--and I 'm selfishly hoping it may,--I'm not in the least bound, don't you know, to stay on here as Ewart's guest. I can go home." "Home!" I echoed. The thought of losing Jamie had never occurred to me. And if he went, then his mother, also, would go. If they both went, I should have necessarily to leave Lamoral, for I was merely an entail of their presence. Leave Lamoral! I sickened at the thought. "Oh, no, no, Jamie!" I cried out, rebelling against the prospect of a new upheaval in my life. "I can't spare you--I can't live here without you--" With every thought centered in Mr. Ewart at that moment, and comprehending as I did the logical result of Mrs. Macleod's leaving the manor and all that it would mean to me, I did not realize what impression my impulsive words might make on her son. In the silence that followed my protest, I had time to realize what I had said.