Her eyes closed a little angrily. "I do not accept favours from men I am unacquainted with," she retorted unreasonably. "How much do I owe,--please?" "And I do not hire myself out, like a dock labourer or a mule, to any one who cares to demand my services," I replied, in equally cold tones. She stood in hesitation, then she stamped her rubber-soled foot petulantly. "But I will not have it. I insist on paying for that work." I shook my head. "If you wish to insult me, Miss Grant,--insist." I could see that she was suffering from conflicting lines of reasoning. Her haughtiness changed and her eyes softened. "Mr. Bremner,--what do I owe for the work,--please?" she pleaded. "You are a gentleman,--you cannot hide that from me." Discovered! I said to myself. "Surely you understand my position? Surely you do not wish to embarrass me?" Ah, well! I thought. If it will please her, so be it. And I'll make it a stiff charge for spite. "Thirty dollars!" I exclaimed, as if it had been three. "Our labour was worth that much." I looked straight at her in a businesslike way. It was her turn to gasp, but she recovered herself quickly. "The cost of labour is, I presume, high, up here?" she commented. "Yes!--very high,--sky-high! You see, I shall have to pay that old Jew-rascal assistant of mine at least two and a half dollars for his share, so that it will not leave very much for the master-mind that engineered the project." She turned her eyes on me to ascertain if I were funning or in earnest, but my face betrayed nothing but the greatest seriousness. She counted out her grocery money and I gave her a receipt. Then she laid three ten dollar bills on the counter to pay for the piano moving. "Thank you!" I said, as I walked round the counter to a little box which was nailed on the wall near the door; a box which the Rev. William Auld had put up with my permission on the occasion of his last visit, a box which I never saw a logger pass without patronising if he noticed it. On the outside, it bore the words:--"Sick Children's Aid." I folded the notes and inserted them in the aperture on top. Miss Grant watched me closely all the while. When I got back behind the counter, she went over to the box and read the label. She opened her purse, with calm deliberation, and poured all it contained into her hand. She then inserted the coins, one by one, in the opening of the box and, with honours still even, if not in her favour, she sailed out of the store. I was annoyed and chagrined at the turn of events, yet, when I came to consider her side of the argument, I could not blame her altogether for the stand she had taken. I put up her order in no very pleasant frame of mind. When I saw her and her chaperon row out from the wharf into the Bay, I carried over the groceries, piecemeal, and placed them in a shady place on their veranda. I then turned back to the house and prepared my evening meal.