He laid down the letter and opened the second one.

Out of this he took an order on one of the H.B.C.settlement stores, dated at the Vancouver station.

It was marked duplicate, and read: "To Agent, Anson's Forks station: "Provide Mr.Weston with whatever he may require in the shape of blankets, provisions, and any sundries in your stock for a prospecting trip." A sheet of paper had been laid beside it, and Weston's face flushed as he read, "Won't you accept this with the good wishes of your late companions ?" It was evidently from Miss Stirling, for it was a woman's writing, and he did not think an Englishwoman would have said "Won't you," as she had done.

He could recognize the delicacy with which she had refrained from offering him money, or even stipulating any definite sum in the order, and it was evident that she had taken some trouble to arrange the matter with the H.B.C.agent at Vancouver.

The thing had been done in kindness, and yet it hurt him.