Mr.

"Benjamin
and irritable on the lounge in the long room, while the girl tended him with a joy
that shone out in every word, every tone, every motion. She saw not his little
tyrannies, his exacting demands, his surly tempers; or rather she saw and loved
them as women do when men lie ill and helpless in there hands. And old Fog sat
apart, or came and went unnoticed; hours of the cold days he wandered through
the forests visiting the traps mechanically, and making tasks for himself to fill up
the time; hours of the cold evenings, he paced the snow-covered roof alone. He
could not bear to see them, but left the post to Orange, whose back face shone
with joy and satisfaction over Waring's return. But after a time fate swung
around (as she generally does if impatient humanity would but give her a chance).
Waring's health grew, and so did has love. He had been eke a strong man armed,
keeping his palace; but a stronger than he was come, and the combat over, he
went as far the other way and adored the very sandals of the conqueror. The
gates were open, and all the floods were out. And Silver? As he advanced, she
withdrew. (It is always so in love, up to a certain point; and beyond that point lies,
alas! the broad monotonous country of commonplace.) This impetuous, ardent
lover was not the Jarvis she had known, the Jarvis who had been her master,
and a despotic one at that. Frightened, shy, bewildered, she fled away from all
her dearest joys, and stayed by herself in the flower-room with the bar across
the door, only emerging timidly at mealtimes and stealing into the long room like a
tithe wraith a rosy wraith now, for at last she had learned to blush. Waring was
angry at this desertion, but only the more in love; for the violet eyes veiled
themselves under his gaze, and the unconscious child-mouth began to try to
control and conceal its changing expressions, and only succeeded in betraying
them more helplessly than ever. Poor little solitary maiden-heart! Spring was
near now; soft airs came over the ice daily, and stirred the water beneath; then
the old man spoke. He knew what was coming, he saw it all, and a sword was
piercing his heart; but bravely he played his part. 'The ice will move out soon, in a
month or less you can sail safely,' he said, breaking the silence one night when
they two sat by the fire, Waring moody and restless, for Silver had openly
repulsed him, and fed away early in the evening. 'She is trying with me,' he