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So the difficulty was solved, in a way, and Frona talked on about herself, with a successfully feigned girlhood innocence, as though she did not appreciate the other or understand her ill-concealed yearning for that which she might not have, but which was Frona's. "There is the trail you are trying to connect with."
She sank down into the low-seated rocker with a native grace which could not escape the beauty-loving eye of the girl, and with proud-poised head and silent tongue listened to Frona as the minutes ticked away, and observed with impersonal amusement Frona's painful toil at making conversation. "What has she come for?" Frona asked herself, as she talked on furs and weather and indifferent things.
Frona's face went blank at the telling, then the laughter came back into it. "Won't it be jolly? I'll do it if it raises a scandal. To-night, Dave? Sure to-night?" "Sure. An' you git a complimentary, you know, fer the loan of yer parlor." "But papa must pay his five cups. You must insist upon it, Dave." Dave's eyes twinkled appreciatively. "I'll git it back on him, you bet!"
La Bijou swung out blithely from the bank. It was down-stream at last, and there was little need for exertion. Vance's arms and shoulders and back, a bright scarlet, caught Frona's attention. "My hopes are realized," she exulted, reaching out and softly stroking a burning arm. "We shall have to put cold cream on it when we get back." "Go ahead," he encouraged. "That feels awfully good."
I can only eat so much, smoke so much, sleep so much, and this tail-dump of earth men call Alaska is the worst of all possible places in the matter of grub, tobacco, and blankets." "But it is the living strenuously which holds you," Corliss interjected. "Frona's philosophy," the colonel sneered. "And my philosophy, and yours." "And of the agglutinated dust "
I've got a noospaper, an' only four weeks' old, the Seattle Post-Intelligencer." "Has the United States and Spain " "Not so fast, not so fast!" The long Yankee waved his arms for silence, cutting off Frona's question which was following fast on that of Corliss. "But have you read it?" they both demanded. "Unh huh, every line, advertisements an' all." "Then do tell me," Frona began. "Has "
"And something is up." "He creeps!" the baron exclaimed. "The man creeps, he crawls, on hand and knee! Look! See!" He thrust the glasses tremblingly into Frona's hands. Looking across the void of shimmering white, it was difficult to discern a dark object of such size when dimly outlined against an equally dark background of brush and earth.
Frona's face was quite pale, but her eyes were hard, brilliantly hard, and she nodded approval. "We're going to try this side, and shoot across from above," she called to her father. "What? I can't hear. Tommy? Oh, his heart's weak. Nothing serious." She saluted with her paddle. "We'll be back in no time, father mine. In no time."
"No, no, I beg of you," she stammered. "I beg of you . . . I . . . I prefer to continue my walk a little farther. See! Some one is coming now!" By this time they had reached the wood-trail, and Frona's face was flaming as the other's had flamed. A light sled, dogs a-lope and swinging down out of the gorge, was just upon them. A man was running with the team, and he waved his hand to the two women.
"Which is quickened with a passion you do not take into account, the passion of duty, of race, of God!" "And the compensation?" Trethaway demanded. "Each breath you draw. The Mayfly lives an hour." "I don't see it." "Blood and sweat! Blood and sweat! You cried that after the rough and tumble in the Opera House, and every word of it was receipt in full." "Frona's philosophy." "And yours and mine."
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