"I don't know much. What about it? We made good prospecting when we had never used the rocker and thawn-out gravel. We graded the pack-trail across Snowy Range when we didn't know how to drill and start off giant-powder. Well, we're going to make good at Langrigg if I stay."

"Then I'll come, for a time," Jake agreed and looked at Carrie.

"I wouldn't like to be left alone," she said and smiled.

Jim was satisfied. He had carried out his plan and it was significant that Carrie was willing to go; if Martin had attracted her; she would sooner have remained behind. In a way, he thought it strange that Mrs.

Winter, from whom he had expected most opposition, was the first to agree, but this was not important.

After a time they went to the Stanley park, where Jake and Mrs. Winter met somebody they knew. Carrie sat down on a bench under a giant fir and Jim lighted a cigarette.

"You and Jake rather puzzled me," he remarked. "You weren't curious; I'd a feeling that things were not the same."

Carrie gave him a steady look. "I'm afraid we were very mean--but there was a difference. You were one of us when you went away; you came back an English landowner."

"Ah," said Jim, "I think I see! You wanted to give me a chance to drop you? Did you think I would?"

"No," said Carrie, blushing. "But it was possible. Cutting the line was different; it was a business proposition." She paused and added with a hint of regret: "It's finished now."

"Sometimes I think you're sorry."

Carrie said nothing and he went on: "Was Jake's throwing up his job and bringing me down from the shack a business proposition? Your nursing me and our long talks by the camp fire? Did you think I could forget these things? Did you want me to forget?"

She looked up, with some color in her face. "Not in a way, Jim, but we took the proper line. We felt you ought to have a chance to let us go."

"And now I hope you're satisfied, since you have found out I'm not as shabby as you thought."

"Oh, well," said Carrie, smiling, "I suppose we do feel some satisfaction."

Then Jake and Mrs. Winter returned and they went to the Canadian Pacific station, where Jim asked about the steamship sailings.

PART II--THE LANDOWNER

CHAPTER I

JIM COMES HOME

The car ran out from the tall hedgerows that bordered the narrow road and at length Jim could look about. He had not been able to see much on his way from the station where Mordaunt had met him, and now he had an unbroken view he studied the English landscape with keen curiosity.

On one side, rugged mountains rose against the lowering sky, but a moving ray of sunshine touched the plain below. In front, the road ran across a marsh, between deep ditches where tall sedges grew. Beyond the marsh, wet sands stretched back to the blurred woods across a bay, and farther off, low hills loomed indistinctly in the mist.

Jim noted that the landscape had not the monotony he had sometimes felt in Canada. The fields behind the marsh looked ridiculously small, but some were smooth and green and some dotted by yellow stocks of corn.

Then there was a play of color that changed from cold blues and grays to silver and ochre as the light came and went. White farmsteads, standing among dark trees, were scattered about, but the country was not tame. The hills and wide belt of sands gave it a rugged touch.

There had been some rain and the wind was cold.

As the car jolted along the straight road between the ditches, Jim began to muse. He had felt a stranger in London, where he had stopped a week. He knew the Canadian cities, but London was different. Yet since he left the station the feeling of strangeness had gone; it was as if he had reached a country that he knew. He wondered whether he unconsciously remembered his father's talk, or if the curious sense of familiarity was, so to speak, atavistic. This, however, was not important, and he glanced at Carrie, who sat behind with Mrs. Winter and Jake.

Carrie had frankly enjoyed her holiday; indeed, Jim thought she had felt more at home than he when they were in town. Somehow she did not look exotic among the Englishwomen at the hotel, and when Mordaunt met them at the station she had, with a kind of natural tact, struck the proper note. She knew Mordaunt was a relation of Jim's, but she met him without reserve or an obvious wish to please. If either were conscious of surprise or embarra.s.sment, Jim thought it was Mordaunt.

Presently the latter indicated a low ridge that broke the level marsh.

It rose against the background of misty hills, and a creek that caught the light and shone wound past it to the sands. In one place, a gray wall appeared among stunted trees.

"Langrigg," he said. "We'll arrive in a few minutes."

He blew the horn, a boy ran to open a gate, and as they climbed the hill Jim saw a stripped cornfield, a belt of dark-green turnips, a smooth pasture, and a hedge. Then a lawn with bright flower-borders opened up, and on the other side a house rose from a terrace. Its straight front was broken by a small square tower, pierced by an arch, and old trees spread their ragged branches across the low roof. The building was of a type not uncommon in the North of England and had grown up about the peel tower that had been a stronghold in the Scottish wars. There were barns and byres in the background, and it was hard to tell if Langrigg was a well-kept farm or a country house.

The strange thing was, Jim knew it well. He felt as if he had come to a spot he often visited; in fact, he had a puzzled feeling that he had come home. Then he saw people on the terrace and the car stopped. He jumped out and after helping Mrs. Winter down got something of a shock, for as the group advanced he saw the girl he had met at the Montreal restaurant. For a moment he forgot Mrs. Winter and fixed his eyes on the girl. She moved with the grace he remembered, and her white dress outlined her figure against the creeper on the wall. She was rather tall and finely, but slenderly, proportioned, and when she looked up he knew she was as beautiful as he had thought. Then he roused himself and went forward with his friends.

Mordaunt presented him to Mrs. Halliday, who gave him her hand with a gracious smile.

"I knew you when the car came up the drive. You look a Dearham," she said. "Since Bernard is unwell, we thought we ought to come and welcome you." Then she beckoned the others. "My daughter, Evelyn, and my son, d.i.c.k."

The girl glanced at Jim curiously, as if puzzled, but her brother laughed.

"This is something of a romantic surprise!" he said. "Perhaps it's curious, but I've thought about you since the night of the blizzard when we came to your shack."

Jim indicated his party. "I want you to know my Canadian friends; I owe them much. Mrs. and Miss Winter from Vancouver city, and my partner, Jake."

Mrs. Halliday had studied the group, but she gave them another glance.

She thought Mrs. Winter was not important. The thin, tired woman was of a common type and had obviously come from a rude Canadian town: Mrs.

Halliday did not know much about Vancouver. The girl, however, had individuality and a touch of beauty; Mrs. Halliday felt she must be reckoned on. The young man puzzled her, because she could not place him. In some ways, he looked like a rather superior workman, but he was unembarra.s.sed, and although he waited calmly, she imagined he was amused. On the whole, they were not the guests one generally received at an English country house, but Mrs. Halliday knew her duty and welcomed them with a gracious air.

They went in and Jim heard with satisfaction that the others meant to dine with him, because he wanted to talk with Evelyn. He came down as soon as he could, hoping he might find her in the hall, but n.o.body was there and for some minutes he looked about. The hall occupied the lower story of the tower. It was square, and roughly-hewn beams, slightly curved, crossed the ceiling. The s.p.a.ces between were paneled with dark wood and an oak wainscot ran round the wall. Half of one side was occupied by a big fireplace and its old, hand-forged irons.

The carved frame and mantel were Jacobean and obviously newer than the rest. The old windows, however, had been enlarged and a wide cas.e.m.e.nt admitted a cold light.

By and by, Mordaunt came in. The latter was thin and dark; his face was rather inscrutable, but he had a superficial urbanity. Jim wondered what lay beneath this, and imagined it might be long before he found out. Until he got down from the train, they had not met since Mordaunt came to the telegraph shack, and Jim did not know if he liked the fellow or not. After a time, there was a step on the stairs that went up the wall, and Jim looked up, half expecting to see Evelyn. At first he was conscious of some disappointment, for Carrie was coming down.

"By George!" said Mordaunt, softly.

Jim understood the exclamation, for he had not until now realized that Carrie was beautiful. Her color was rather high and her face looked strangely clean-cut against the background of dull brown oak. Her eyes were a curious gray that changed to sparkling hazel-brown with the light; her hair was brown with a coppery gleam, and her dress a soft green. Jim had not seen the dress before and did not know if it was the latest fashion, but he felt that Carrie's choice was good. It was not that the harmonious color gave her beauty; the effect was deeper.

The girl had a touch of dignity that was rather natural than cultivated.

She lifted her head and smiled as she went up to Jim, and asked, as if Mordaunt was not there: "How do you like me?"

"In a way, you're wonderful," Jim replied. "Of course, I knew that before--when you nursed me, and in the woods--but somehow I hadn't expected _this_! When did you get the dress?"

"When we were in London. I hadn't long, but I wanted to be just right," Carrie answered with a blush. Then she laughed. "You're very nice, Jim; but do I really fit in?"

"Marvelously," Mordaunt interposed. "If my opinion is worth much, you look as if you belonged to Langrigg. That is, you go back, beyond our times, to the folks who built the peel to keep out the Scots."

Jim nodded. Mordaunt had said what he himself had vaguely thought.

The fellow was sensitive and had felt the girl's virility. Jim was a little surprised that Carrie, who knew nothing about the Border wars, seemed to understand, for she gave Mordaunt a quiet but rather piercing look.

"Well," she said. "I have been up against Nature, where she's raw and savage, in the woods."

"Perhaps that accounts for it," Mordaunt replied, smiling. "Nature is savage in the frozen North; perhaps Jim told you I have been there.

But I imagine you made good."