CHAPTER XXVIII
THE SHADOWED GLEN
The night the jam gave way Constance was seated by the table engaged upon a piece of needlework. The candle by her side threw its feeble, flickering beams upon her dark hair and well-formed face. The rich tide of health was not flowing as of old, free and strong. It had fled from her cheeks, leaving them at times very white. Occasionally her busy fingers ceased and her work lay unheeded in her lap, while a far-away look stole into her dark brown eyes. The wind beat against the little window and shook the loose panes of glass; it whirled around the cabin, and rattled the rudely constructed stove pipe. Constance shivered, but not from the cold, and often unconscious sighs escaped her lips.
Her father was sitting near, reading, or pretending to read, a book Keith had loaned him. It was one of the few volumes left of the missionary's carefully chosen library. The rest had gone up in smoke. It exemplified the truth that what we keep we lose; what we give we have. Mr. Radhurst was much improved. The haggard look had left his face; his eyes were clear and his step strong and decisive as of old. Occasionally his gaze wandered from the page he was reading to his daughter's face. He was uneasy about her of late, and noted with apprehension the paleness of her cheeks and the absence of her cheery songs.
"Connie," he kindly said, laying aside the book, "I'm afraid this life is not agreeing with you."
"Why, father dear," she smilingly replied. "Do you think I look very sick?"
"You look far from well, my child, and you need a decided change. This is no place for a woman. You have no companion, no place to visit, nothing but the same dreary routine from morning till night, week in and week out. Then this commotion among the miners and your adventure with that rascally Pritchen are telling upon you, I can see that."
"Yes, father, I am uneasy about the miners, I must admit. We saw them with all those Indians this afternoon, but have heard nothing. Every one seems to have forsaken us."
"Connie," and Mr. Radhurst's voice was low, "I think we had better leave the North. It is no place for us. We are not accustomed to the hardships, and I am too old. It was a great mistake I made, but the fever ran in my veins, and my eyes were blinded. Now I see differently, and think it best to go back."