"Making hats. I did one for Miss Horsfield, and afterwards friends of hers sent me some more to trim. She said she'd try to get me some work from one of the big stores."

"But you're not a milliner, are you?" said Vane, who felt grateful to Jessie for the practical way in which she had kept her promise to a.s.sist.

"Celia's something better," Kitty broke in. "She's a genius."

The others laughed, and Vane, anxious to turn the conversation away from Miss Horsfield's action, led them on to general chatter, under cover of which he drew Drayton to the door.

"The girl looks far from fit," he said. "Has the doctor been over lately?"

"Two or three days ago," answered Drayton. "We've been worried about her. It's out of the question that she should go back to the hotel, and she can only manage to work a few hours daily. There's another thing--the clerk of the fellow who owns these shacks has just been along for his rent. It's overdue."

"Where's he now?"

Drayton laughed, for the sounds of a vigorous altercation rose from farther up the unlighted street. "I guess he's yonder, having some more trouble with his collecting."

"I'll fix that matter, anyway," said Vane, who disappeared into the darkness.

It was some time later when he re-entered the shack, and waited until a remark of Celia's gave him a lead.

"You're really a partner in the lumber scheme," he said. "I can't see why you shouldn't draw some of your share of the proceeds beforehand."

"The first payment isn't to be made until you find the spruce and get your lease," the girl reminded him. "You've already paid a hundred dollars we had no claim upon."

"That doesn't matter; I'm going to find it."

"Yes," said Celia, with a look of confidence, "I think you will. But,"

and a flicker of colour crept into her thin face--"I can't take any more money until it's done."

Vane, failing in another attempt to shake her resolution, dropped the subject, and soon afterwards he and Carroll took their departure. They were sitting in their hotel, waiting for dinner, when Carroll, who lay in a luxurious chair, looked up lazily.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" he inquired.

Vane glanced meaningly round the elaborately furnished room. "There's a contrast between all this and that rotten shack. Did you notice that Celia never stopped sewing while we were in?"

"I did," said Carroll. "I suppose you're going to propound another conundrum of a kind I've heard before--why you should have so many things you don't particularly need while Miss Hartley must go on sewing, when she's hardly able for it, in her most unpleasant shack? I don't know if the fact that you found a mine answers the question; but if it doesn't the thing's beyond your philosophy."

"Come off," Vane bade him with signs of impatience. "Your moralising gets on one's nerves. Anyhow, I straightened out one difficulty--I found the rent man, who'd been round worrying her, and got rid of him."

Carroll groaned in mock dismay, which covered some genuine annoyance with himself.

"What's the matter?" Vane inquired. "Do you want a drink?"

"I'll get over it," Carroll informed him. "It isn't the first time I've suffered from the same complaint. But I'd like to point out that your chivalrous impulses may be the ruin of you some day. Why didn't you let Drayton settle with the man? You gave him a cheque, I suppose?"

"I did; I'd only a few loose dollars on me. Now I see what you're driving at, and I want to say that any little reputation I possess can pretty well take care of itself."

"Just so. No doubt it will be necessary; but you're not the only person concerned."

"But who's likely to take notice of the thing?"

"I can't tell; but you make enemies as well as friends, and you're walking in slippery places which you're not altogether accustomed to.

You can't meet your difficulties with the axe here."

"That's true," a.s.sented Vane, and they went in to dinner.

After the meal, they walked across to Nairn's, and when they had been ushered into a room in which several other guests were a.s.sembled, Vane sat down on a sofa, beside Jessie Horsfield.

"I want to thank you; I was over at Miss Hartley's this afternoon," he began.

"I understood you were at the mining meeting."

"So I was; your brother would tell that----"

Vane broke off, remembering that he had defeated Horsfield.

"You were opposed to him; but it doesn't follow that I share all his views. Perhaps I ought to be a stauncher partisan."

"If you'll be just to both of us, I'll be satisfied."

"I suppose that means you're convinced of the equity of your cause," she suggested.

"I expect I deserve the rebuke, but aren't you trying to switch me off the subject?" Vane answered with a laugh. "It's Celia Hartley I want to talk about."

He did her injustice; Jessie felt that she had earned his grat.i.tude, and she had no objection to his expressing it.

"It was a happy thought of yours to give her hats and things to make; I'm ever so much obliged to you. I felt you could be trusted to think of the right thing. An ingenious idea of that kind would never have occurred to me."

"It was very simple; I noticed a hat and dress of hers which she owned she had made. The girl has some talent; I'm only sorry I can't keep her busy."

"Couldn't you give her an order for a dozen hats? I'd be glad to be responsible."

"The difficulty would be the disposal of them. They would be of no use to you, and I couldn't allow you to present them to me."

"I wish I could," Vane declared. "You certainly deserve them."

This was satisfactory, so far as it went, though Jessie would have preferred that his desire to bestow the favour should have sprung from some other motive than a recognition of her services to Celia Hartley.

She was, however, convinced that his only feeling towards the girl was one of compa.s.sion. Then she saw that he was looking at her with half-humorous annoyance in his face.

"Are you grieved I won't take those hats?" she asked.

"I am," Vane confessed and proceeded to explain with unnecessary ingenuousness: "I'm still more vexed with the state of things its typical of--I suppose I mean the restrictedness of this civilised life.

When you want to do anything in the bush, you take the axe and set about it; but here you're continually running up against some artificial obstacle."

"One understands that it's worse in England," said Jessie. "But in regard to Miss Hartley, I'll recommend her to my friends as far as I can."

Just then Vane made an abrupt movement, and Jessie realised by his expression that he had suddenly become oblivious of her presence. She had no doubt about the reason for this, because Evelyn Chisholm entered the room. The lamplight fell upon her as she crossed the threshold, and Jessie recognised unwillingly that she looked surprisingly handsome.

Handsome, however, was not the word Vane would have used. He thought Evelyn looked exotic, highly cultivated, strangely refined, as though she had grown up in a rarefied atmosphere in which nothing rank could thrive. Though Evelyn had her faults, the impression she made on him was, perhaps, more or less justifiable.