Elsie glanced at him curiously. She was conscious both of disappointment and of a certain invitational thrill. His assurance was not just what she had looked for, but yet it stimulated her thought. He was very different from every one else. Decision marked him and a flash that was breathless seemed to reach her. Imagination lay in his quick change of expression and in the depths of the gray eyes. This was the man who dreamed great dreams. "The next time you are up this way I hope you and your friends will come to the block house." He was looking at her with evident interest. "You may not like it, but, I think you will,--it makes a background for this"; he pointed to the works, "and I find it restful. I live quite alone except for a Japanese cook, and," he added with a laugh, "he's part of the background." Elsie accepted and, for an instant, caught Clark's full glance. In a fraction of time there passed between them a swift and subconscious exchange of understanding that subsided almost ere it was born. Then he took off his hat and hastened towards his office. For a little while she did not speak, for she was filled with the perception that between herself and this stranger lay something they held in common. Could it be imagination? "What do you think of Mr. Belding?" asked the judge reflectively as he stepped round a shattered boulder. Elsie started. "Why do you ask?" The judge's brows went up. "Why shouldn't I?" The girl pulled herself together with an effort. "I was thinking of something else when you spoke,--he seems very nice indeed." "He has a good salary, a good position and a good future," hazarded the judge. "I'm glad you like him." Later that evening, Belding turned homeward, his work finished, and, walking close to the shore, looked across the black river to the blaze of light at the works. On one side and low down he made out the glow from the block-house windows. He could imagine Clark at the piano. But his chief had deserted the piano and given himself up to a rare hour of retrospect. He was under no misapprehension with regard to St. Marys. The town was growing in jerky spurts, as the old inhabitants took on new courage, or new blood came in from outside. Filmer, who with the exception of Bowers and Belding, was closer to Clark than any of the rest, enlarged his store, and new shops began to appear nearer the rapids. Manson's premises were populated with an assortment from the small army of laborers at the works, and a new hotel was under construction. But, in the main, it was only by stress of business demands that any expansion was made. The strangers, who constantly appeared on the streets, ceased to be a cause of curiosity, and the folk of St. Marys left it to them to start new enterprises.