virile　term。
  It　is　a　clever　woman　who　can　fill　out　the　many　weak　places　in　an
  inefficient　man；　by　her　own　indomitability；　re…enforce　his　vacillating
  nature；　infuse　her　ambitious　soul　into　his；　and　spur　him　on　to　great
  achievements。　And　it　is　indeed　a　very　clever　and　tactful　woman　who　can
  do　all　this；　and　do　it　so　subtly　that　the　man　receives　all　the
  credit　and　believes　in　his　inmost　heart　that　everything　is　due　to
  him　and　him　alone。
  This　is　what　Grace　Bentham　proceeded　to　do。　Arriving　in　Dawson
  with　a　few　pounds　of　flour　and　several　letters　of　introduction；　she　at
  once　applied　herself　to　the　task　of　pushing　her　big　baby　to　the
  fore。　It　was　she　who　melted　the　stony　heart　and　wrung　credit　from
  the　rude　barbarian　who　presided　over　the　destiny　of　the　P。　C。　Company；
  yet　it　was　Edwin　Bentham　to　whom　the　concession　was　ostensibly
  granted。　It　was　she　who　dragged　her　baby　up　and　down　creeks；　over
  benches　and　divides；　and　on　a　dozen　wild　stampedes；　yet　everybody
  remarked　what　an　energetic　fellow　that　Bentham　was。　It　was　she　who
  studied　maps；　and　catechised　miners；　and　hammered　geography　and
  locations　into　his　hollow　head；　till　everybody　marveled　at　his　broad
  grasp　of　the　country　and　knowledge　of　its　conditions。　Of　course；
  they　said　the　wife　was　a　brick；　and　only　a　few　wise　ones　appreciated
  and　pitied　the　brave　little　woman。
  She　did　the　work；　he　got　the　credit　and　reward。　In　the　Northwest
  Territory　a　married　woman　cannot　stake　or　record　a　creek；　bench；　or
  quartz　claim；　so　Edwin　Bentham　went　down　to　the　Gold　Commissioner
  and　filed　on　Bench　Claim　23；　second　tier；　of　French　Hill。　And　when
  April　came　they　were　washing　out　a　thousand　dollars　a　day；　with
  many；　many　such　days　in　prospect。
  At　the　base　of　French　Hill　lay　Eldorado　Creek；　and　on　a　creek
  claim　stood　the　cabin　of　Clyde　Wharton。　At　present　he　was　not
  washing　out　a　diurnal　thousand　dollars；　but　his　dumps　grew；　shift　by
  shift；　and　there　would　come　a　time　when　those　dumps　would　pass　through
  his　sluice…boxes；　depositing　in　the　riffles；　in　the　course　of　half　a
  dozen　days；　several　hundred　thousand　dollars。　He　often　sat　in　that
  cabin；　smoked　his　pipe；　and　dreamed　beautiful　little　dreams；…　dreams
  in　which　neither　the　dumps　nor　the　half…ton　of　dust　in　the　P。　C。
  Company's　big　safe；　played　a　part。
  And　Grace　Bentham；　as　she　washed　tin　dishes　in　her　hillside　cabin；
  often　glanced　down　into　Eldorado　Creek；　and　dreamed；…　not　of　dumps　nor
  dust；　however。　They　met　frequently；　as　the　trail　to　the　one　claim
  crossed　the　other；　and　there　is　much　to　talk　about　in　the　Northland
  spring；　but　never　once；　by　the　light　of　an　eye　nor　the　slip　of　a
  tongue；　did　they　speak　their　hearts。
  This　is　as　it　was　at　first。　But　one　day　Edwin　Bentham　was　brutal。
  All　boys　are　thus；　besides；　being　a　French　Hill　king　now；　he　began
  to　think　a　great　deal　of　himself　and　to　forget　all　he　owed　to　his
  wife。　On　this　day；　Wharton　heard　of　it；　and　waylaid　Grace　Bentham；　and
  talked　wildly。　This　made　her　very　happy；　though　she　would　not
  listen；　and　made　him　promise　to　not　say　such　things　again。　Her　hour
  had　not　come。
  But　the　sun　swept　back　on　its　northern　journey；　the　black　of
  midnight　changed　to　the　steely　color　of　dawn；　the　snow　slipped　away；
  the　water　dashed　again　over　the　glacial　drift；　and　the　wash…up
  began。　Day　and　night　the　yellow　clay　and　scraped　bedrock　hurried
  through　the　swift　sluices；　yielding　up　its　ransom　to　the　strong　men
  from　the　Southland。　And　in　that　time　of　tumult　came　Grace　Bentham's
  hour。
  To　all　of　us　such　hours　at　some　time　come；…　that　is；　to　us　who　are
  not　too　phlegmatic。　Some　people　are　good；　not　from　inherent　love　of
  virtue；　but　from　sheer　laziness。　But　those　of　us　who　know　weak　moments
  may　understand。
  Edwin　Bentham　was　weighing　dust　over　the　bar　of　the　saloon　at　the
  Forks…　altogether　too　much　of　his　dust　went　over　that　pine　board…　when
  his　wife　came　down　the　hill　and　slipped　into　Clyde　Wharton's　cabin。
  Wharton　was　not　expecting　her；　but　that　did　not　alter　the　case。　And
  much　subsequent　misery　and　idle　waiting　might　have　been　avoided；　had
  not　Father　Roubeau　seen　this　and　turned　aside　from　the　main　creek
  trail。
  'My　child；…'
  'Hold　on；　Father　Roubeau！　Though　I'm　not　of　your　faith；　I　respect
  you；　but　you　can't　come　in　between　this　woman　and　me！'
  'You　know　what　you　are　doing？'
  'Know！　Were　you　God　Almighty；　ready　to　fling　me　into　eternal　fire；
  I'd　bank　my　will　against　yours　in　this　matter。'
  Wharton　had　placed　Grace　on　a　stool　and　stood　belligerently　before
  her。
  'You　sit　down　on　that　chair　and　keep　quiet；'　he　continued；
  addressing　the　Jesuit。　'I'll　take　my　innings　now。　You　can　have　yours
  after。'
  Father　Roubeau　bowed　courteously　and　obeyed。　He　was　an　easy…going
  man　and　had　learned　to　bide　his　time。　Wharton　pulled　a　stool　alongside
  the　woman's；　smothering　her　hand　in　his。
  'Then　you　do　care　for　me；　and　will　take　me　away？'　Her　face　seemed　to
  reflect　the　peace　of　this　man；　against　whom　she　might　draw　close　for
  shelter。
  'Dear；　don't　you　remember　what　I　said　before？　Of　course　I…'
  'But　how　can　you？…　the　wash…up？'
  'Do　you　think　that　worries？　Anyway；　I'll　give　the　job　to　Father
  Roubeau；　here。　I　can　trust　him　to　safely　bank　the　dust　with　the
  company。'
  'To　think　of　it！…　I'll　never　see　him　again。'
  'A　blessing！'
  'And　to　go…　O；　Clyde；　I　can't！　I　can't！'
  'There；　there；　of　course　you　can。　just　let　me　plan　it。…　You　see；
  as　soon　as　we　get　a　few　traps　together；　we'll　start；　and…'
  'Suppose　he　comes　back？'
  'I'll　break　every…'
  'No；　no！　No　fighting；　Clyde！　Promise　me　that。'
  'All　right！　I'll　just　tell　the　men　to　throw　him　off　the　claim。
  They've　seen　how　he's　treated　you；　and　haven't　much　love　for　him。'
  'You　mustn't　do　that。　You　mustn't　hurt　him。'
  'What　then？　Let　him　come　right　in　here　and　take　you　away　before　my
  eyes？'
  'No…o；'　she　half　whispered；　stroking　his　hand　softly。
  'Then　let　me　run　it；　and　don't　worry。　I'll　see　he　doesn't　get
  hurt。　Precious　lot　he　cared　whether　you　got　hurt　or　not！　We　won't　go
  back　to　Dawson。　I'll　send　word　down　for　a　couple　of　the　boys　to　outfit
  and　pole　a　boat　up　the　Yukon。　We'll　cross　the　divide　and　raft　down　the
  Indian　River　to　meet　them。　Then…'
  'And　then？'
  Her　head　was　on　his　shoulder。　Their　voices　sank　to　softer
  cadences；　each　word　a　caress。　The　Jesuit　fidgeted　nervously。
  'And　then？'　she　repeated。
  'Why　we'll　pole　up；　and　up；　and　up；　and　portage　the　White　Horse
  Rapids　and　the　Box　Canon。'
  'Yes？'
  'And　the　Sixty…Mile　River；　then　the　lakes；　Chilcoot；　Dyea；　and
  Salt　Water。'
  'But；　dear；　I　can't　pole　a　boat。'
  'You　little　goose！　I'll　get　Sitka　Charley；　he　knows　all　the　good
  water　and　best　camps；　and　he　is　the　best　traveler　I　ever　met；　if　he　is
  an　Indian。　All　you'll　have　to　do；　is　to　sit　in　the　middle　of　the　boat；
  and　sing　songs；　and　play　Cleopatra；　and　fight…　no；　we're　in　luck；
  too　early　for　mosquitoes。'
  'And　then；　O　my　Antony？'
  'And　then　a　steamer；　San　Francisco；　and　the　world！　Never　to　come
  back　to　this　cursed　hole　again。　Think　of　it！　The　world；　and　ours　to
  choose　from！　I'll　sell　out。　Why；　we're　rich！　The　Waldworth　Syndicate
  will　give　me　half　a　million　for　what's　left　in　the　ground；　and　I've
  got　twice　as　much　in　the　dumps　and　with　the　P。　C。　Company。　We'll　go　to
  the　Fair　in　Paris　in　1900。　We'll　go　to　Jerusalem；　if　you　say　so。　We'll
  buy　an　Italian　palace；　and　you　can　play　Cleopatra　to　your　heart's
  content。　No；　you　shall　be　Lucretia；　Acte；　or　anybody　your　little　heart
  sees　fit　to　become。　But　you　mustn't；　you　really　mustn't…'
  'The　wife　of　Caesar　shall　be　above　reproach。'
  'Of　course；　but…'
  'But　I　won't　be　your　wife；　will　I；　dear？'
  'I　didn't　mean　that。'
  'But　you'll　love　me　just　as　much；　and　never　even　think…　oh！　I　know
  you'll　be　like　other　men；　you'll　grow　tired；　and…　and…'
  'How　can　you？　I…'
  'Promise　me。'
  'Yes；　yes；　I　do　promise。'
  'You　say　it　so　easily；　dear；　but　how　do　you　know？…　or　I　know？　I　have
  so　little　to　give；　yet　it　is　so　much；　and　all　I　have。　O；　Clyde！
  promise　me　you　won't？'
  'There；　there！　You　musn't　begin　to　doubt　already。　Till　death　do　us
  part；　you　know。'
  'Think！　I　once　said　that　to…　to　him；　and　now？'
  'And　now；　little　sweetheart；　you're　not　to　bother　about　such
  things　any　more。　Of　course；　I　never；　never　will；　and…'
  And　for　the　first　time；　lips　trembled　against　lips。　Father　Roubeau
  had　been　watching　the　main　trail　through　the　window；　but　could　stand
  the　strain　no　longer。　He　cleared　his　throat　and　turned　around。
  'Your　turn　now；　Father！'　Wharton's　face　was　flushed　with　the　fire　of
  his　first　embrace。　There　was　an　exultant　ring　to　his　voice　as　he
  abdicated　in　the　other's　favor。　He　had　no　doubt　as　to　the　result。
  Neither　had　Grace；　for　a　smile　played　about　her　mouth　as　she　faced　the
  priest。
  'My　child；'　he　began；　'my　heart　bleeds　for　you。　It　is　a　pretty
  dream；　but　it　cannot　be。'
  'And　why；　Father？　I　have　said　yes。'
  'You　knew　not　what　you　d