They spent a pleasant evening; and the next afternoon Blake and Harding
drove up the mountain with Mrs. Keith and one or two others. The city
was unpleasantly hot and the breeze that swept its streets blew clouds
of sand and cement about, for Montreal is subject to fits of feverish
constructional activity and on every other block buildings were being
torn down and replaced by larger ones of concrete and steel. Leaving
its outskirts, the carriage climbed the road which winds in loops
through the shade of overhanging trees. Wide views of blue hills and
shining river opened up through gaps in the foliage; the air lost its
humid warmth and grew fresh and invigorating.

Reaching the level summit, they found seats near the edge of a steep,
wooded slope. The strip of tableland is not remarkably picturesque,
but it is thickly covered with trees, and one can look out across a
vast stretch of country traversed by the great river.

When the party scattered, Mrs. Keith was left with Harding. They were,
in many ways, strangely assorted companions--the elderly English lady
accustomed to the smoother side of life, and the young American who had
struggled hard from boyhood--but they were sensible of a mutual liking.
Mrs. Keith had a trace of the grand manner, which had its effect on
Harding; he showed a naive frankness which she found attractive.
Besides, his talk and conduct were marked by a labored correctness
which amused and pleased her. She thought he had taken some trouble to
acquire it.

"So you had to leave your wife at home," she said presently. "Wasn't
that rather hard for both of you?"

"It was hard enough," he replied with feeling. "What made it worse was