If Any Man Sin

by H. A. Cody

Presently Quabee touched Nance upon the arm, and motioned her to look to the right. Coming toward them was a canoe, containing a woman, and a white woman at that. Nance laid her violin carefully in the bottom of the canoe, and then fixed her gaze upon the approaching stranger. Her eyes grew large with wonder as the woman drew near. Never before had she beheld such a person. This must be one of the women who had come on the Northern Light, she thought. And yet she did not look bad. Surely her father must have been somewhat mistaken. That face with the large, expressive, pathetic eyes and sweet mouth could have no connection with evil. She noted the noble poise of her head, the erectness of her body, and the skilful manner in which she handled the craft. A sunny smile illumined the stranger's face, as she drew in the paddle and laid it across the canoe.

"Pardon me," she began, noting the looks of astonishment upon the faces of the two women before her. "I heard the music floating across the water, and thought that there must be fairies hidden in this cove, and now I have found that I was right."

Then an expression of sadness came into her eyes as she looked keenly upon Nance. She believed that this was one of the women who had come in on the Northern Light.

"I didn't hear you playing on the steamer," she continued after a brief pause. "Where did you keep yourself and your violin hidden all the way up the river?"

Then Nance knew that this stranger had mistaken her for one of the bad women of whom her father had spoken. At once her face flushed with resentment. No doubt this is one of them, she considered, and so she must not speak to her. She turned away her eyes and spoke to Quabee in the Indian tongue. The latter roused herself, seized her paddle and dipped it into the water. The stranger saw that in some way she had offended the young white woman, and she hastened to rectify her mistake.

"Forgive me!" she cried. "I am afraid that I have made a foolish blunder. Let us introduce ourselves, and then perhaps we shall be able to understand each other better. I am Nurse Marion, and have come to this place to take charge of the new hospital. But the lake is so calm this afternoon that I could not resist the temptation of a ride over its glassy surface in this canoe which I borrowed from an Indian."

Nance's face cleared instantly, and a sigh of relief escaped her lips. "Then you are not one of those women over there?" and she motioned toward the steamer.

"No, no!" was the emphatic reply.

"And neither am I. This is my home, and my name is Nance. This is Quabee, my Indian friend from childhood."

"And have you really lived in this country all your life!" the stranger exclaimed in surprise.