"It might be--anywhere." Nada's lips trembled, as if she were about to speak; and then very quietly she sat, with her hands tightly clasped in her lap, and Father John knew she was not expressing the thought in her heart when she said, "Someday I want to tell Yellow Bird how much I love her." Now in these hours since he and his master had come to the Burntwood it seemed to Peter that he had lost something very great, for in his happiness McKay had taken but scant notice of him, and Nada seemed to have found a greater joy than that which a long time ago she had found in his comradeship.

So now, as she saw him lying in his loneliness a short distance away, Nada suddenly ran to him, and together they went into the thick screen of the balsams, Peter yipping joyously, and Nada without so much as turning her head in the direction of Roger and Father John.

But even in that bird-like swiftness with which she had left them, Father John had caught the look in her eyes.
"I have made a mistake," he confessed humbly.

"I have sinned, because in her I have roused the temptation to urge you to fly away with her--down there--south.

She is a woman, and being a woman she has infinite faith in Yellow Bird, for Yellow Bird helped to give you to her.