living-room when Philip joined the others. A glance told him why Nome
had not returned to the cabin. Breed and the colonel were smoking cigars
over a ragged ledger of stupendous size, which the factor had spread out
upon a small table, and both were deeply absorbed. Mrs. Becker was
facing the fire, and close beside her sat Nome, leaning toward her and
talking in a voice so low that only a murmur of it came to Steele's
ears. The man's face was flushed when he looked up, and his eyes shone
with the old fire which made Philip hate him.

As the woman turned to greet him Steele felt a suddenly sickening
sensation grip at his heart. Her cheeks, too, were flushed, and the
color in them deepened still more when he bowed to her and joined the
two men at the table. The colonel shook hands with him, and Philip
noticed that once or twice after that his eyes shifted uneasily in the
direction of the two before the fire, and that whenever the low laughter
of Mrs. Becker and Nome came to them he paid less attention to the
columns of figures which Breed was pointing out to him. When they rose
to go into supper, Philip's blood boiled as Nome offered his arm to Mrs.
Becker, who accepted it with a swift, laughing glance at the colonel.
There was no response in the older man's pale face, and Philip's fingers
dug hard into the palms of his hands. At the table Nome's attentions to
Mrs. Becker were even more marked. Once, under pretext of helping her to
a dish, he whispered words which brought a deeper flush to her cheeks,
and when she looked at the colonel his eyes were fixed upon her in stern
reproof. It was abominable! Was Nome mad? Was the woman--

Steele did not finish the thought in his own mind. His eyes encountered
those of the colonel's wife across the table. He saw a sudden, quick
catch of breath in her throat; even as he looked the flush faded from
her face, and she rose from her seat, her gaze still upon him.