"Splendid, Sam--like a man who had never been ill." Instantly the doubt faded. A sense of mingled relief and of intense happiness stole through him. If she would only believe in him now, he thought, and understand him, and be a help and a comfort to him. "I was ill when I left," he continued in a softened tone. "You would not believe it, dear, but I was. I should have been ill in bed if I had stayed a day longer." "Yes," she answered carelessly, "you must have been, otherwise I doubt if you would have had pluck enough to leave me as you did. It was quite dramatic, that little exit of yours, Sam." "And so you got my note?" he inquired, stiffening up, yet determined to ignore her touch of sarcasm, and so preserve the peace. "Oh, yes; Blakeman did not forget. He never forgets anything you tell him. I must say it was very thoughtful of you after our interview a night or two before." This came with a shrug of her shoulders, the smile still flickering about her mouth. "Of course you had a good time?" "Yes, and I feel twenty years younger," he ventured; "couldn't help it, the way those men took care of me." "Who?" she asked, still gazing at him curiously. "Young Holcomb and--" "Ah, yes, I remember," she mused, while she played with the lace on the sleeve of her gown. "And there was Freme Skinner and a grizzled, kindly old trapper, named Hite Holt," he added. "I have never met with such sincere hospitality." "What deliciously amusing names," she sighed, changing her position beneath the lace with the swift suppleness of a kitten. "And what luck hunting?" she asked, as she loosened the ribbon at her throat. "I killed a smashing big buck," he declared with boyish enthusiasm. She buried her head once more among the lace pillows and ran one hand through her wealth of hair. "So you intend to stay up there all summer?" in the same half playful, half sneering tone. "No, dear; I intend to buy a tract of land and build a house, or camp, that will house you properly." This last came as a distinct shock, but she did not waver. "And your decision is final, I suppose," she returned, as she readjusted her rings. "And when will this be?" she added. "As soon as I can get the title deeds--not later than a month at the outside. Would you like me to tell you about the country?" She shrugged her shoulders, raising herself among the pillows. "No, I shouldn't know anything more about it." "But you haven't the slightest idea what Big Shanty Brook is like," he said with conviction--"a superb wilderness, an unbroken forest. Imagine a--" She raised her hand with a bored little laugh. "Now, Sam, dear, don't," she protested. "I hate long descriptions of places; besides, I can imagine it perfectly--a muddy old stream with a lot of sad looking trees sticking about in a wilderness miles away from any human being anyone in his or her right mind would ever care to see. As for your Holcomb and the other two tramps, they would simply bore me to death."