"Mr. Heming, are you fond of pictures? Daughter has a delightful
little picture book here that I want her to show you, so now, my dears,
both sit over there on the sofa where the light will be better, and
look at it together."

Moving over to the old horsehair sofa--the pride of all Spearhead and
even of Fort Consolation--we sat down together, much closer than I had
expected, as some of the springs were broken, thus forming a hollow in
the centre of the affair, into which we both slid without warning--just
as though it were a trap set for bashful people. Then Mrs. Spear with
a sigh, evidently of satisfaction, withdrew from the room, and we were
left alone together. With the book spread out upon our knees we looked
it over for perhaps---- Well, I am not sure how long, but anyway, when
I came to, I saw something just in front of me on the floor. Really,
it startled me. For in following it up with my eye I discovered that
it was the toe of a moccasin, and the worst of it was that it was being
worn by Mrs. Spear. There, for ever so long, she must have been
standing and watching us. The worst of that household was that all its
members wore moccasins, so you could never hear them coming.

That night, when we were sitting around the stove, Mrs. Spear explained
to me how she had educated her daughter and added: "But perhaps, after
all, if the wedding is not going to take place right away, it might be
well to send Daughter to some finishing school for a few months--say in
Toronto," and then, after a little pause, and still looking at me, she
asked: "To which school would you prefer us to send Athabasca?"

When I named the most fashionable girls' school in that city, "Paw and
Maw" settled it, there and then, that Daughter would attend it next
fall, that is, unless it was decided to celebrate her wedding at an