The letter that pleased me so much was from Galt Roscoe, who, as he had
intended, was settled in a new but thriving district of British Columbia,
near the Cascade Mountains. Soon after his complete recovery he had been
ordained in England, had straightway sailed for Canada, and had gone to
work at once. This note was an invitation to spend the holiday months
with him, where, as he said, a man "summering high among the hills of
God" could see visions and dream dreams, and hunt and fish too--
especially fish. He urged that he would not talk parish concerns at me;
that I should not be asked to be godfather to any young mountaineers; and
that the only drawback, so far as my own predilections were concerned,
was the monotonous health of the people. He described his summer cottage
of red pine as being built on the edge of a lovely ravine; he said that
he had the Cascades on one hand with their big glacier fields, and mighty
pine forests on the other; while the balmiest breezes of June awaited
"the professor of pathology and genial saw-bones." At the end of the
letter he hinted something about a pleasant little secret for my ear when
I came; and remarked immediately afterwards that there were one or two
delightful families at Sunburst and Viking, villages in his parish. One
naturally associated the little secret with some member of one of these
delightful families. Finally, he said he would like to show me how it
was possible to transform a naval man into a parson.

My mind was made up. I wrote to him that I would start at once. Then
I began to make preparations, and meanwhile fell to thinking again about
him who was now the Reverend Galt Roscoe. After the 'Fulvia' reached
London I had only seen him a few times, he having gone at once into the
country to prepare for ordination. Mrs. Falchion and Justine Caron I had
met several times, but Mrs. Falchion forbore inquiring for Galt Roscoe:
from which, and from other slight but significant matters, I gathered
that she knew of his doings and whereabouts. Before I started for