looked from beneath heavy eyelids at Roscoe with such gratitude and--but,
no, she is only a subordinate in the story, and not a chief factor, and
what she said or did here is of no vital consequence at this moment! We
rowed to a point near the confluence of the two rivers, where we could
leave our boats to be poled back through the rapids or portaged past
them.

On the way Mrs. Falchion said to Roscoe: "I knew you were somewhere in
the Rockies; and at Vancouver, when I came from San Francisco, I heard
of your being here. I had intended spending a month somewhere in the
mountains, so I came to Viking, and on to the summer hotel: but really
this is too exciting for recreation."

This was spoken with almost gay outward manner, but there was a note in
her words which I did not like, nor did I think that her eye was very
kind, especially when she looked at Ruth Devlin and afterwards at Roscoe.

We had several miles to go, and it was nightfall--for which Mrs. Falchion
expressed herself as profoundly grateful--when we arrived at the hotel.
Our parting words were as brief as, of necessity, they had been on our
journey through the mountains, for the ladies had ridden the horses which
we had sent over for ourselves from Viking, and we men walked in front.
Besides, the thoughts of some of us were not at all free from misgiving.
The spirit possessing Roscoe the night before seemed to enter into all
of us, even into Mrs. Falchion, who had lost, somewhat, the aplomb with
which she had held the situation in the boat. But at the door of the
hotel she said cheerfully: "Of course, Dr. Marmion will find it necessary
to call on his patients to-morrow--and the clergyman also on his new
parishoners."