When Harkness found that he was always defied by Eliza he grew gloomy,
and was quiet for a time. One day, however, he recovered his former
cheerfulness. He seemed, indeed, to be in high spirits. When he saw his
time, he sought talk with Eliza. He did not now affect to be lively, but
rather wore a manner of marked solemnity.

"Can you read the French language?" he asked.

"No," she answered.

"That's unfortunate, for I'm not a good hand at it myself; but I've
found a bit of news in a French paper here that is real interesting and
important."

He unfurled a crushed copy of a Quebec journal a few days old. "It
says," he began translating, that "there's a man called Cameron, who's
been nicknamed Lazarus Cameron, because he seemed to be dead and came to
life again."

He looked hard at the paper, as if needing a few moments to formulate
further translation.

"Do go on," said Eliza, with manifest impatience.

"Why now, you're _real_ interested, Miss White."

"Anybody would want to know what you're at."

"Well, but, considering it's any one so composed as you, Miss White,
it's real pleasant to see you so keen."