In those ten days all the wonders of June came up out of the south.
Life pulsed with a new and vibrant force. The crimson fire-flowers,
first of wild blooms to come after snow and frost, splashed the green
spaces with red. The forests took on new colors, the blue of the sky
grew nearer, and in men's veins the blood ran with new vigor and
anticipations. To Keith they were all this and more. Four years along
the rim of the Arctic had made it possible for him to drink to the full
the glory of early summer along the Saskatchewan. And to Mary Josephine
it was all new. Never had she seen a summer like this that was dawning,
that most wonderful of all the summers in the world, which comes in
June along the southern edge of the Northland.
Keith had played his promised part. It was not difficult for him to
wipe away the worst of McDowell's suspicions regarding Miss Kirkstone,
for McDowell was eager to believe. When Keith told him that Miriam was
on the verge of a nervous breakdown simply because of certain trouble
into which Shan Tung had inveigled her brother, and that everything
would be straightened out the moment Shan Tung returned from Winnipeg,
the iron man seized his hands in a sudden burst of relief and gratitude.
"But why didn't she confide in me, Conniston?" he complained. "Why
didn't she confide in me?" The anxiety in his voice, its note of
disappointment, were almost boyish.