"I am so sorry," said she.
"I have no portrait of him," continued the Free Trader, after an instant. "No gift from his hands; nothing at all of his but this."
He showed her an ordinary little silver match-safe such as men use in the North country.
"They brought that to me at the last—the Indians who came to tell my priest the news; and the priest, who was a good man, gave it to me. I have carried it ever since."
Virginia took it reverently. To her it had all the largeness that envelops the symbol of a great passion. After a moment she looked up in surprise.
"Why!" she exclaimed, "this has a name carved on it!"
"But the name is Graehme Stewart."
"Of course I could not bear my father's name in a country where it was well known," he explained.
"Of course," she agreed. Impulsively she raised her face to his, her eyes shining. "To me all this is very fine," said she.