She made no answer, but he knew that she was pleased and it filled him with a wish to tell her that she was very much like her dead brother. More he could not have said, but remembering that he had already gone as far as was permissible he had sense enough to repress the inclination. He saw the girl's lips close firmly, as if she were conscious of some emotion, but there was silence for a minute or two. He broke it at length. "I know that you have granted me a very great privilege, and I'm grateful," he told her, and added, because he thought a partial change of the subject might be considerate: "In a way, it's hard to realize that tale in this restful place. It's easier out yonder, where what you could call the general tone is different." "Nasmyth once said something like that," Millicent replied. "I suppose the change is marked." Lisle nodded. "Here you have order, peace, security. In the wilds, it's all battle, the survival of the strong; frost and ice rending the solid hills, rivers scoring out deep ravines, beast destroying beast, or struggling with starvation. Man's not exempt either; a small blunder--a deer missed or a flour bag lost--may cost him his life. For the difference you have to thank the constructor, the maker of plows and spades and more complex machines." "That's one of your pet hobbies, isn't it?" He once more changed the subject. "I wish that I could show you the wilderness," he said. Millicent looked thoughtful. "I should like to see it. I've an idea that if this book is well received I might, perhaps, try something a little more ambitious--the larger beasts and wilder birds of other countries. In that case, I should choose British Columbia." "Then you will let me be your guide?" She made a conditional promise, and shortly afterward he left her. Meeting Nasmyth he walked with him toward Gladwyne's house, where they found the guests assembled on the lawn and Mrs. Gladwyne sitting by a tea-table. One or two young women were standing near and several men had gathered about a mat laid upon the grass fifty yards from where a small target had been set up. Lisle joined Bella Crestwick, who detached herself from the others. "What is this?" he asked. "It's a very short range." "Miniature rifle shooting," she informed him. "It's becoming popular. Gladwyne has been trying to form a club. My brother Jim is president of some league. He's rather keen and there are reasons why I'm glad of it." She added the last words confidentially and Lisle ventured to nod. It struck him that a healthy interest in any organized work or amusement would be beneficial to young Crestwick. The girl looked at him, as if considering something; and then she seemed to make up her mind. "There's one thing I don't like," she complained. "They will shoot for high stakes. Jim isn't a bad shot, but he's too eager. I'm afraid he's inclined to be venturesome just now."