“You will stay and have dinner with us?” Bettina said cordially. “We both are strangers to the life of the woods, yet hospitality is one of its first laws. By the way, I have not told you my name, nor have you told me yours. I am Bettina Graham, my father is Senator Graham of Washington. My friend is Mary Gilchrist. Gill, won’t you speak for yourself? Do come and walk beside us.” But Mary Gilchrist made no rejoinder, nor did the newcomer urge her. To Bettina his manner if a little abstracted was perfectly courteous, but between him and Mary Gilchrist the antagonism, born of their meeting, her recent impulsive action had augmented. “My name is Drain, Allan Drain. I beg your pardon, I did not realize I had not introduced myself. I believe I did tell you I was studying surgery. The choice is not mine, it is what my family wish for me, not what I wish for myself. I want to be a poet, a great poet. I am almost glad my health has broken down so I am forced to spend this winter alone amid the everlasting hills.” Bettina felt slightly embarrassed, but need not have concerned herself as she was not in her companion’s thoughts. Entirely self absorbed, he had thrown back his head, showing that his features were strongly marked, his nose prominent, the cheek bones high. It struck Bettina that his star gazing at present was inward and at his own dream of his own star. He seemed a vain and not a practical person. If Gill’s estimate of his character were severe, yet it might hold a germ of truth. “Then why do you study surgery?” Bettina demanded. “Still if one is a poet, a real poet, I do not believe another profession can keep one from fulfilling his gift. One might not write so much poetry, but it might be all the more beautiful.” Her companion shook his head. “No, you are altogether wrong; that is what too many people argue. A poet must live his own life in freedom and among his dreams. But one must eat, for even poets require food. My own people are poor, but I have an uncle who is a distinguished surgeon and, as he has no children, wants me to follow in his footsteps, and is willing to pay for my education. Don’t think I do not see the greatness of surgery, but I am entirely unfitted for the profession and the life is too difficult. I don’t like an active existence; perhaps your friend was right: I may prefer to leave the hard tasks to others and only enjoy the results of their effort.” Tahawus camp was now only a few yards away. Bettina turned and moved back a few paces to join her friend. “Gill, go to your own room at once if you prefer. I will explain how the accident occurred. Of course you had no way of guessing, but it may be painful to have to confess before so large an audience.” Mary Gilchrist shook her head.