The girl grew rather pink. "Isn't it wonderful that you really found us?"

"I didn't, the captain found you."

"It's hard to think of you as--well--just here."

"I came down for a day or two off. For the first time in years, I've forgotten all about the works."

"I'm glad, and do you--"

At that instant there came from between Clark's feet a mighty thump, and the big ba.s.s, curving its spiney back, leaped clear of the boat and landed in the brown water with a splash. A flip of the broad tail and it vanished.

"You've lost your fish!" exclaimed Elsie, aghast.

"Perhaps you lost it, but it doesn't matter."

"Is that the way you feel, just slack and careless?"

"Just like that."

"I knew you had a mind above fish," she laughed.

"That's a distinction, because few fishermen have. Now I'd like to thank you again for your note of a few weeks ago."

"Do you really remember that?" she said earnestly.

He nodded, and over him came a slow conviction that there was an avenue of life he had never traversed and which seemed to be, after all, more inviting than he had allowed himself to believe. Elsie was years younger than Clark, but just now the latter felt strangely young.

"Do you recollect finding out that I had but a few personal friends?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "I would like another."

"Oh!" She stared at him, her startled eyes full of light.

"You don't mind, I hope?"

The canoe drifted like a leaf towards his heavy boat, but Elsie's paddle was motionless.

"It would make me very happy. But could I really do anything for you?

It has always seemed that," she hesitated and her lips became tremulous, "that you didn't need any one." Then she added under her breath, "like me."

Clark's face was grave. "And if I did?"

She looked at him with growing fascination. Surrounded by the gigantic things of his own creation he was impressive, but here in the solitudes he took on even more suggestive characteristics. She stretched out a slim brown hand.

"You will find me very difficult sometimes, I warn you now."

"I like difficult things, they seem to come my way."

The languid hours sped by. Clark swam, fished, paddled with the girl, entertained her party in the tug's white painted saloon, and chatted with Mrs. Dibbott, the chaperon, about St. Marys. But most of all he explored the mind of Elsie Worden. It was like opening successive doors to his own intelligence. She startled him with her intuition, delighted him with her keen sense of humor, and seemed to grasp the man's complex nature with superlative ease. And, yielding to her charms, Clark, for the first time in his life, felt that he must go slow. It was a new country to him. Previous experience had left no landmarks here.

They were drifting lazily along the sh.o.r.e, miles from the others, when Elsie, after a long pause, glanced at him curiously.

"Will you tell me just what you find in music?"

"But I don't know anything about it."

"Perhaps not, but you feel it, and that's what counts. I've only heard you play twice."

"Once," he corrected.

"No, I was out on the bay one night, below the blockhouse, when you were playing." Belding's name was on the girl's lips but at the moment Belding did not fit and she went on evenly, "It is something like the rapids."

"I'm glad you think that. It's the response that one gets."

"That's what I feel. You're an American, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I thought so. You see your people are more responsive than we are, and you don't seem so ashamed of enthusiasm."

"We can't help it, but it's a little awkward sometimes," his eyes twinkled, "that is in Canada. Now talk about yourself."

"There's so little to say. I was asleep for years like every one else in St. Marys, till you came and woke us all up.

"And then?"

"I realized that life was rather thin and that I wanted a lot of things I'll never get."

"Why never,--and what do you want?"

"To be part of something bigger than myself," said the girl very slowly.

Clark felt an answering throb. That was what he had felt and wanted and achieved.

"To feel what the world feels and know something of what the world knows," she added intensely. "I want to work."

"That sounds strenuous."

She flushed a little. "Won't you take me seriously?"

"I beg your pardon. As a matter of fact I've always taken you seriously."

"Have you, why?"

"Perhaps because I don't know anything about your s.e.x," he answered teasingly. "I never had time,--they're sealed books to me."

"So this is your first exploring trip?"