by virtue of his approaching marriage with Marion. The men left alone,
General Armour questioned Frank freely about life in the Hudson's Bay
country, and the conversation ran on idly till it was time to join the
ladies.

When they reached the drawing-room, Marion was seated at the piano,
playing a rhapsody of Raff's, and Mrs. Armour and Lali were seated side
by side. Frank thrilled at seeing his wife's hand in his mother's.
Marion nodded over the piano at the men, and presently played a snatch
of Carmen, then wandered off into the barbaric strength of Tannhauser,
and as suddenly again into the ballet music of Faust.

"Why so wilful, my girl?" asked her father, who had a keen taste for
music. "Why this tangle? Let us have something definite."

Marion sprang up from the piano. "I can't. I'm not definite myself
to-night." Then, turning to Lali: "Lali dear, sing something--do!
Sing my favourite, 'The Chase of the Yellow Swan.'"

This was a song which in the later days at Greyhope, Lali had sung for
Marion, first in her own language, with the few notes of an Indian chant,
and afterwards, by the help of the celebrated musician who had taught her
both music and singing, both of which she had learned but slowly, it was
translated and set to music. Lali looked Marion steadily in the eyes for
a moment and then rose. It cost her something to do this thing, for
while she had often talked much and long with Richard about that old
life, it now seemed as if she were to sing it to one who would not quite
understand why she should sing it at all, or what was her real attitude
towards her past--that she looked upon it from the infinite distance of
affectionate pity, knowledge, and indescribable change, and yet loved the