“Come, Paula,” called Cornwall Brand. “We are all waiting.”
Her face hardened at his words.
“Good-bye,” she said to Barry. “I am coming back again to—to your wonderful Canada.”
“Of course you are,” said Barry, heartily. “They all do.”
He went with her to the canoe, steadied her as she took her place, and stood watching till the bend in the river shut them from view.
“Nice people,” said his father. “Very fine, jolly girl.”
“Yes, isn't she?” replied his son.
“Handsome, too,” said his father, glancing keenly at him.
“Is she? Yes, I think so. Yes, indeed, very,” he added, as if pondering the matter. “When do we move, dad?”
A look of relief crossed the father's face.