end of the long curve of the water front, her keen eyes could make
out the roof which, six years before, she had learned to call home.
She could imagine the stir and excitement in that home: the
controlled eagerness of her busy father, the gentle flurry of her
invalid mother, and the tempestuous bulletins issued by the small
brother whose occasional letters, full of incoherent affection and
quaint bits of orthography, had added interest to the last years of
her English life. One and all, they were loyally intent upon her
coming. And she, ingrate that she was, could spare thought from the
dear home circle to waste it upon the forgetful young Canadian who
was talking horse and politics by the rail.

She turned sharply, as Weldon's voice fell upon her ears.

"Happy New Year, Miss Dent! It is an odd wish to be giving, with the
mercury at ninety."

With her London gown, she had also donned her London manner, and her
answer was banal.

"But none the less welcome, for all its being so warm. May I return
it?"

He laughed, like the great, overgrown boy that he so often showed
himself.

"I decline to take it back. And where have you been, all the
morning?"

"Packing my steamer trunk. I have been on deck for nearly an hour,