"Where is the mine?" she asked.
"It's among the rocks some distance back from the Lake of Shadows in western Ontario."
"The Lake of Shadows!" Ethel exclaimed. "A friend I made in London used to go there with her father for fishing and shooting; but that's not important."
"Well," said Andrew, "I've talked enough about myself. There's a favor I want to ask. Will you call on Mrs. Olcott?"
Ethel started. Mrs. Olcott was young and pretty; nobody knew anything about her husband; Andrew's visits had already excited comment.
"Why should I call?" she inquired.
He gave her the best reasons he could think of for befriending the lonely woman, and she pondered them for a moment or two. Then she asked bluntly:
"How was it that Mrs. Olcott chose this neighborhood, where she knows nobody?"
"I suggested it," said Andrew, simply. "The Firs was empty, and she has few friends anywhere."
Though she had attached no importance to the remarks that had been made about him, Ethel found his unembarrassed candor reassuring. He had, however, asked her to do something that was harder than he imagined, and she hesitated.