Six weeks later there was rejoicing at Penetang. The Doctor had overstepped his time, but as he brought his winsome bride with him, the locum tenens, as well as the garrison, were willing to forgive. They had come out with tourists from York, and Maud, for the first time in her life, had the satisfaction of camping for a couple of summer nights in the woods.
The experience of this western trip was full of joy for her, and with the eagerness which was part of her nature, she looked for new pleasure in each day's journey. Beaumont had told her the wolf story in which Helen and Harold were the heroes of the hour, and during the second night from York, while the wolves were howling in the distance, she lay awake for awhile actually longing for a similar experience.
Of all the denizens of that little northern garrison none yearned for Maud's arrival as did Helen Manning, and when the two women met they stood for minutes in a long and close embrace, while tears ran down their faces.
"This is foolishness," said Helen.
"Is it?" said Maud.
"But how good of you to come."
"Of Henri to bring me."
"Yes, you both deserve credit," said Helen, laughing—laughter and tears are very near akin—"but how could he help it, when Harold set him so good an example?"
"I once told you I would go to the ends of the world with a man if I loved him—just like yourself."