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It is a very pretty room, filled with a subdued light, and with a blazing fire at one end. All bespeaks warmth, and home, and comfort, but to Mona in her present state it is desolation itself. The three occupants of the room rise as she enters, and Mona's heart dies within her as a very tall statuesque woman, drawing herself up languidly from a lounging-chair, comes leisurely up to her. There is no welcoming haste in her movements, no gracious smile, for which her guest is thirsting, upon her thin lips.,

"It wasn't the train so much," says Doatie, with a merry laugh, "as Nolly: we weren't any time coming, because he got out and took the reins from Hewson, and after that I rather think he took it out of your bays, Nicholas.",

Mīka´pi was glad. Here had come to him one of the tribe he was seeking, yet he thought it better to wait for a time before fighting him; so when, in signs, the Snake asked Mīka´pi who he was he replied, by making the sign for paddling a canoe, that he was a River person, for he knew that the Snakes and the River people, or Pend d'Oreilles, were at peace. Then the two lay down for the night, but Mīka´pi did not sleep. Through the long night he watched for the first light, so that he might kill his enemy; and just at daybreak Mīka´pi, without noise, strung his bow, fitted an arrow to the string, and sent the thin shaft through his enemy's heart. The Snake half rose up and fell back dead. Mīka´pi scalped him, took his bow and arrows and his bundle of moccasins, and went out of the cave and looked all about. Daylight had come, but no one was in sight. Perhaps, like himself, the Snake had gone to war alone. Mīka´pi did not forget to be careful because he had been fortunate. He travelled only a little way, and then hid himself and waited for night before going on. After drinking from the river he ate and, climbing up on a high rock wall, he slept.,

"But you didn't cut your throat, after all," says Mona, with a wicked little grimace.

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That wandering shrine of soft yet icy flame,,

"But why?" says Mona.,

But, though "lost to sight," to memory he is most unpleasantly "dear." Standing alone in the middle of the deserted field, Mona pulls to pieces, in a jerky, fretful fashion, a blade of grass she has been idly holding during the late warm discussion. She is honestly very much frightened at what she has done, but obstinately declines to acknowledge it even to her own heart. In a foolish but natural manner she tries to deceive herself into the belief that what has happened has been much to her own advantage, and it will be a strict wisdom to rejoice over it.,

"Do you mean you will not marry me?" asks he, letting her go, and moving back a step or two, a frown upon his forehead. "I confess I do not understand you."