For a moment only, we stood there on the shore of the little cove, together and alone--and glad to be! We stood there, man and woman facing each other, as primeval man and woman may have stood thousands of years ago on this oldest piece of the known earth, there in the heart of the Canadian wilderness. Something primeval entered into the expression of our love for each other; our souls were naked, the one to the other; our eyes promised all, the one to the other; our lips were ready for their seal of sacrament when the time should come that we might give it each to the other without witness. And no word was spoken, for no word was needed. The Doctor joined us rather inopportunely and, accounting for the situation, made no end of a pother with his traps and his canoe. Once more Jamie and I asked if we might not take one look at old André, but the Doctor put his foot down. "Better not. Remember him as you last saw him; it will be a memory to dwell with--this would not be." Jamie put on a brave face, but I knew he was ready for a good cry. "I am not reconciled to say goodby to you here, Gordon," he said. The two clasped hands. "Oh, I shall be running over to see you and Mrs. Macleod before long. Be sure, Mrs. Macleod, to have my room ready for me next summer in Crieff--and don't forget the green canopy over my bed. I have n't forgotten it." She smiled. "I shall never forget your kindness, never; but I can't help the longing for home." "There, there, no more you can't," said the Doctor brusquely. "No more leave-takings; they don't set well on my breakfast. We shall all be together again soon, please God. The ocean is but a pond and the crossing a five days' picnic now-a-days. You may follow us in a few days, Ewart. Meanwhile, I 'll see that your household is safely landed at Lamoral--if only the rain will hold off, we shall have cause for thankfulness," he added fervently. We all knew the Doctor was talking against time and parting. "Raincoats all in readiness?" And then, not waiting for an answer: "I shall run up to Lamoral after I get back from San Francisco, Gordon; I 'm not sure I shan't return by the Canadian Pacific." "Good luck, John, and goodby till then," said Mr. Ewart. "Bon voyage, Mrs. Macleod. Miss Farrell, I give you carte blanche for all wedding preparations. Tell Pierre to order from his tailor, and charge to me. I shall give them away.--Macleod, you full-fledged genius,"--he caught Jamie's hands in his,--"let me hear from you--a wireless will just suit my impatience. Oh, Miss Farrell, may I trouble you to see Mère Guillardeau and tell her of André? I will telegraph you before I return. Goodby--goodby." There was a hand-clasp all around again. The Montagnais and André's son took their places; pushed off. Our return voyage was begun.