had much to say.

His coolness annoyed Barbara, but he had excited her curiosity and she
was intrigued. Moreover, Cartwright had tried to meddle and she wanted
to feel she was cleverer than he. Then Shillito was entitled to defend
himself, and to find the way he talked about would not be difficult.
Barbara knitted her brows and began to think.

At lunch Mrs. Cartwright told her they were going to join the Vernons in
the woods and she acquiesced. Two or three days afterwards they started,
and at the station she gave Cartwright her hand with a smiling glance,
but Cartwright knew his step-daughter and was not altogether satisfied.
Barbara did not sulk; when one tried to baffle her she fought.

The Vernons' camp was like others Winnipeg people pitch in the lonely
woods that roll west from Fort William to the plains. It is a rugged
country pierced by angry rivers and dotted by lakes, but a gasolene
launch brought up supplies, the tents were large and double-roofed, and
for a few weeks one could play at pioneering without its hardships. The
Vernons were hospitable, the young men and women given to healthy sport,
and Mrs. Cartwright, watching Barbara fish and paddle on the lake,
banished her doubts. For herself she did not miss much; the people were
nice, and the cooking was really good.

When two weeks had gone, Grace and Barbara sat one evening among the
stones by a lake. The evening was calm, the sun was setting, and the
shadow of the pines stretched across the tranquil water. Now and then
the reflections trembled and a languid ripple broke against the
driftwood on the beach. In the distance a loon called, but when its wild
cry died away all was very quiet.