"And I suppose," put in Jim, "if we did get them out--the very first time there would be a labour shortage or a wage dispute those same farmers and ranchers would be the first to forget their previous experiences, would raise a holler about white imposition and claim a fresh coolie importation. Here we are ourselves,--took Sing on in his old job without giving the matter a thought--all because we have got used to their presence."

"And the startling thing about it is this," said Jim, "almost every School Examination Report in the Province tells us one story:--the sons and daughters of these same ignorant, superst.i.tious Chinamen head the lists in open compet.i.tion; our own white youngsters tailing hopelessly in the rear. Not only that, but once in a while we find one of these Canadian educated Chinese kids--despite his education--while working as kitchen help in some of our homes, committing a most atrocious murder of our white women folks."

"Well--what are we going to do about it?" asked Eileen, rising.

"G.o.d knows!" answered Jim, "and n.o.body seems to lose any sleep over it. It just goes on,--and on,--and on."

"I guess I'll have to be going on too, boys!" smiled Eileen. "Dad's here for the holidays, you know. We are having our Christmas dinner eight o'clock to-night. I promised dad I would be back by three this afternoon.

"I'm terribly glad you two have got away from the 'herd' as it were. I won't see you again for quite a while. I'm going back with daddy Royce Pederstone again to Victoria, and I'll be there looking after his well-being all the time the House is sitting."

Phil's face fell in disappointment. Eileen noticed it and was glad.

Jim noticed also, and wondered what had been going on that he was unaware of.

"It will be a dandy change. I suppose, all the same, all the time I am there I shall have a picture of Vernock and the Valley at the back of my mind, and I won't be really and truly happy till I'm back again."

"You are not the first one I have heard say he felt that way about this little countryside. It just sort of tacks itself on as part of you."

"It is always that way with me anyway," said Eileen. "As for Phil, he hasn't been here long enough to feel the same."

"Maybe Phil will be having a little picture of Victoria in his mind's eye!" was Jim's caustic comment, to which he received no answer.

"Well!--aren't you going to see the lady home?" he continued, addressing Phil.

"I guess one of us should," answered Phil with alacrity.

"Off you go then! Hitch your own nag on behind, Phil. By the time you get back I'll have the dishes washed up and everything looking lovely."

Eileen went up to the big fellow and patted his cheek.

"You're just a dear old grouchy grandpa."

"And my age is exactly twenty-eight," he grinned.

Eileen jumped and threw her arms round his broad shoulders. She pinned him in a flying hug, then jumped back again.

Jim pulled out his pipe and struck a match in studied indifference, but there was an expression in his deep, brown eyes that spoke of an inward merriment and pleasure.

And as Eileen and Phil drove off for town, Jim--with one long, slender leg crossed over the other--leaned lazily against the door-post, smoking dreamily and waving his hand.

"I guess Jim has never had a real sweetheart," said Eileen.

"It doesn't seem very like it," answered Phil.

"And yet, as you can see, he really is a lady's man from the sole of his big foot to his bronze hair."

"Then, either he has had a sweetheart and the course didn't run smoothly, or he has still to encounter the real Princess Charming. I have waited quite a long time for mine, you know, Eileen."

The young lady blushed and looked away.

"And do you think you have really found her at last?" she asked.

"Do I think I have! Ah, Eileen!--_you_ would ask me that after our little----"

"Now, Phil,--you mustn't say a word about that, or I'll cancel the next. You caught me at a weak moment and, just like a man, you took fullest advantage," she smiled.

Phil pulled the horse to a stop and stared blankly at Eileen.

"But--but you meant it, Eileen? We really _are_ sweethearts now?" he asked seriously.

"Why, of course,--you great big boy!" she laughed, "but you don't have to stop the horse over it. We are on the public highway, too."

"And some day----?" he continued, starting up the horse again.

"Maybe,--if you don't hurry me. You won't hurry me, Phil? Will you--dear? For I am terribly happy, and I--I don't quite seem to have got everything properly laid out in my mind."

"You just take your own good time, Eilie. I have my career to make first; but I am going to do it now that I have you to think of----"

"That's the way I like to hear a man talk," she returned, with an enthusiasm that carried contagion. "I don't think there is a thing in this world impossible to any man if he only makes up his mind to attain it. If a man has health--and he can have that if he goes about it the right way--and is willing to throw aside the hundred and one little time-wasters that surround all of us; if he will work and work and do the very best he knows, he is sure to gain his object in the end."

"Even in the winning of a young lady?"

"Yes!--even in that," she answered. "Why,--you can see that happen every day. Men whom young ladies actually repulse at first, often attract these same ladies in the end by their devotion, determination and singleness of purpose, and they gain the love they seek in the end, too."

"But that must just be destiny."

"I don't know. If you mean by destiny, that if a man strives all that is in him to attain a laudable object or ambition, and allows of no permanent rebuffs, but comes back at it, again and again--the result is absolutely certain and he need have no worry as to the ultimate success, because it is up to him to use and develop his talent, but the result is with his Creator who first gave him his talent to work on and first prompted his ambition for the materially hidden but ultimate good of the Universe--then I agree with you:--it is destiny."

After she spoke, Phil and she glided on in silence, for both felt somehow that they had been verging on a new understanding, as it were--a sixth sense--a tuning up and a telepathic communication with the Infinite.

Tears started in Eileen's eyes which Phil did his best to banish.

"Oh,--I know I am foolish," she said. "Sometimes I feel so strong; at other times so--so feminine. It is my dear, old daddy I worry over, Phil. He is not what he used to be before he got mixed up with this political crowd, with Mayor Brenchfield, with all these land schemes he has afoot. He used to be just my dear old daddy: now I seem to be losing him. That--that is why I have insisted on going with him to Victoria."

"I am sorry--very, very sorry, Eileen! If I could help, I would, gladly. Brenchfield I know is far from straight. He is educated, wealthy, influential, smooth,--but he is crooked."

"What do you know of Graham Brenchfield?" she asked suddenly. "When was it that you met him before coming here? What did he do to you?

That time you met in my little home up on the hill was not your first acquaintance."

Phil was completely taken aback by the suddenness of her query, and he did not answer.

Eileen laid her hand over his.

"Phil,--I--I've a right to know;--I--we----"

Phil's hand closed tightly on hers and, as they glided rapidly over the snow toward Vernock, he told her what he had told Jim only the night before.

"Oh, the brute! The coward!" was all Eileen's bloodless lips allowed to pa.s.s, as she sat staring blankly ahead of her, her face pale and her hands working together on her lap.