I but cast it into the balance of God, which
must hang heavy with your goodness."
She had given her hand to the leader, and that impulsive son of the
ould sod kissed it gallantly.
"'Tis little we did, lass, for you and your poor lad yonder, and 'twas
in our hearts to do more. But here's luck to you both,--an early
weddin' an' sturdy sons!"
And, as the morning sun glittered on the ripples of the departing
boats, Maren stood long looking after them, a mist in her eyes and her
full lips quivering.
She looked until the gathering dimness hid the waving kerchief of the
only woman friend who had ever truly reached her heart.
Then she sat down and took up a paddle.
"Last lap, Messieurs," she said, above the mutter of McElroy at her
feet, and they turned toward where the familiar river came rushing to
the lake.
The summer lay heavy on the land when they reached the Assiniboine.
Deep green of the forests, deep green of fern and bush and understuff,
told of the full tide of the year. Here and there a leaf trailed in the
shallows, yellow as gold in an early death.
She thought of the spring, so long past, when she had first come into
this sweet land, and it seemed like another time, another life, another
person.
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