"What does it matter? It is once in a lifetime," she answered sadly.

Gaston took up the thread:

"Now I come to what will shock you even more, perhaps. So, be prepared.
I don't know how many days went, but at last I had three visitors--in
time I should think: a Moravian missionary, and an Esquimaux and his
daughter. I didn't tell the missionary about Jock--there was no use,
it could do no good. They stayed four weeks, and during that time one
of the crazy men died. The other got better, but had to be watched. I
could do anything with him, if I got my eye on him. Somehow, I must tell
you, I've got a lot of power that way. I don't know where it comes from.
Well, the missionary had to go. The old Esquimaux thought that he and
his daughter would stay on if I'd let them. I was only too glad. But it
wasn't wise for the missionary to take the journey alone--it was a bad
business in any case. I urged the man that had been crazy to go, for I
thought activity would do him good. He agreed, and the two left and got
to the Mission Station all right, after wicked trouble. I was alone with
the Esquimaux and his daughter. You never know why certain things
happen, and I can't tell why that winter was so weird; why the old
Esquimaux should take sick one morning, and in the evening should call
me and his daughter Lucy--she'd been given a Christian name, of course--
and say that he was going to die, and he wanted me to marry her" (Lady
Belward exclaimed, Sir William's hands fingered the chair-arm nervously)
"there and then, so that he'd know she would be cared for. He was a
heathen, but he had been primed by the missionaries about his daughter.
She was a fine, clever girl, and well educated--the best product of their
mission. So he called for a Bible. There wasn't one in the place, but I
had my mother's Book of the Mass. I went to get it, but when I set my
eyes on it, I couldn't--no, I couldn't do it, for I hadn't the least idea