A WOMAN'S ADVICE
A fortnight later, Blake met Millicent in a fieldpath and turned back
with her to Hazlehurst. It was a raw day and the wind had brought a
fine color into the girl's face, and she wore a little fur cap and
fur-trimmed jacket which he thought became her very well.
"You have not been over often," she said; "Mr. Foster was remarking
about it."
Blake had kept away for fear of his resolution melting if he saw much
of her.
"My uncle seems to think he has a prior claim," he explained; "and I
may not be able to stay with him long."
"You are going back to Canada?" The quick way the girl looked up, and
something in her tone, suggested unpleasant surprise, for she had been
taken off her guard.
"I shall have to go when Harding needs me. I haven't heard from him
since I arrived, but I'll get my summons sooner or later."
"I thought you had come home for good!" Millicent's color deepened, and
she added quickly: "Do you like the life in the Northwest?"
"It has its charm. There are very few restrictions--one feels free.
The fences haven't reached us yet; you can ride as far as you can see
over miles of grass and through the clumps of bush. There's something
attractive in the wide horizon; the riband of trail that seems to run
forward forever draws you on."
"But the arctic frost and the snow?"
"After all, they're bracing. Our board shacks with the big stoves in
them are fairly warm; and no one can tell what developments may
suddenly come about in such a country. A railroad may be run through,
wheat-land opened up, minerals found, and wooden cities spring up from
the empty plain. Life's rapid and strenuous; one is swept along with
the stream."
"But you were in the wilds!"
Blake laughed.
"We were indeed; but not far behind us the tide of population pours
across the plain, and if we had stayed a year or two in the timber, it
would have caught us up. That flood won't stop until it reaches the
Polar Sea."
"But how can people live in a rugged land covered with snow that melts
only for a month or two?"
"The climate doesn't count, so long as the country has natural
resources. One hears of precious metals, and some are being mined."
He paused and added in a tone of humorous confidence: "My partner
believes in oil."
They were now close to Hazlehurst, and as they left the highway Mrs.
Keith joined them.
"Dick," she said, laying her hand affectionately on his arm, "I have
had a talk with your uncle. You have convinced him thoroughly, and
have taken a great load off his mind." Admiration shone in her eyes.
"None of the Challoners ever did so fine a thing, Dick!"
Blake felt embarrassed, and Millicent's face glowed with pride in him.
No further reference was made to the subject, however, and he spent a
pleasant hour in, the great hall at Hazlehurst, where Mrs. Keith left
him with Millicent when tea was brought in.
That night Blake sat with Challoner in the library at Sandymere. The
Colonel was in a big leather chair near a good fire, but he had a heavy
rug wrapped about him, and it struck Blake that he looked ill.
He turned and regarded Blake affectionately.
"You have been a good nephew, Dick, and since you came home I have felt
that I ought to make some provision for you. That, of course, was my
intention when you were young, but when the break occurred you cut
yourself adrift and refused assistance."
Blake colored, for there were, he thought, adequate reasons why he
should take no further favors from his uncle. If the truth about the
frontier affair ever came out, it would look as if he had valued his
honor less than the money he could extort and the Colonel would bear
the stigma of having bought his silence.
"I'm grateful, sir, but I must still refuse," he said. "I'm glad you
made me the offer, because it shows I haven't forfeited your regard;
but I'm sorry I cannot consent."
"Have you any plan for the future?"
"My partner has," Blake answered, smiling. "I leave that kind of thing
to him. I told you about the oil."
"Yes; and Clarke had something to say on the subject. However, he gave
me to understand that capital was needed."
"That is true," Blake replied unguardedly, for he did not see where his
uncle's remark led. "Boring plant is expensive, and transport costs
something. Then you have to spend a good deal beforehand if you wish
to float a company."
"But you believe this venture will pay you?"
"Harding is convinced of it; and he's shrewd. Personally, I don't know
enough about the business to judge, but if I had any money to risk I'd
take his word for it."
Challoner made no reply; and when Blake left him he grew thoughtful.
His nephew's demonstration with the chessmen had lifted a weight off
his mind, but he was troubled by a doubt about the absolute correctness
of his explanation. Moreover, when he dwelt upon it, the doubt
gathered strength; but there was nothing that he could do: Dick
obviously meant to stick to his story, and Bertram could not be
questioned.
In the meanwhile, Blake sought Miss Challoner.
"I don't think my uncle's looking well. Mightn't it be better to send
for Dr. Onslow?" he said.
"He wouldn't be pleased," Miss Challoner answered dubiously. "Still,
he sometimes enjoys a talk with Onslow, who's a tactful man. If he
looked in, as it were, casually----"
"Yes," assented Blake; "we'll give him a hint. I'll send the groom
with a note at once."
The doctor came, and left without expressing any clear opinion, but
when he returned the next day he ordered Challoner to bed and told
Blake he feared a sharp attack of pneumonia. His fears were justified,
for it was several weeks before Challoner was able to leave his room.
During his illness he insisted on his nephew's company whenever the
nurses would allow it, and when he began to recover, he again begged
him to remain at Sandymere. He had come to lean upon the younger man
and he entrusted him with all the business of the estate, which he no
longer was able to attend to.
"Dick," he said one day, when Blake thought he was too ill to perceive
that he was casting a reflection on his son, "I wish my personal means
were larger, so that I could give Bertram enough and leave Sandymere to
you; then I'd know the place would be in good hands. On the surface,
you're a happy-go-lucky fellow; but that's deceptive. In reality, you
have a surprising grip of things--however, you know my opinion of you.
But you won't go away, Dick?"
The nurse interrupted them, and Blake was glad that he had written to
Harding stating his inability to rejoin him. A week or two later he
had received a cable message: "_No hurry_."
When spring came he was still at Sandymere, for Challoner got better
very slowly and would not let his nephew go. Blake saw Millicent
frequently during those days. At first he felt that it was a weakness,
as he had nothing to offer her except a tainted name; but his love was
getting beyond control, and his resistance feebler. After all, he
thought, the story of the Indian disaster must be almost forgotten; and
Harding had a good chance for finding the oil. If he had not already
started for the North, he would do so soon; but Blake had had no news
from him since his cabled message.
Then, after a quiet month, Blake suggested that as the Colonel was
getting stronger again he ought to go back to Canada.
"If you feel that you must go, I'll have to consent," Challoner said.
"I have a duty to my partner. It's probable that he has already set
off, but I know where to find him, and there'll be plenty to do. For
one thing, as transport is expensive, we'll have to relay our supplies
over very rough country, and that means the same stage several times.
Then, I don't suppose Harding will have been able to buy very efficient
boring plant."
"He may have done better than you imagine," Challoner suggested with a
smile. "A man as capable as he seems to be would somehow get hold of
what was needful."
Blake was surprised at this, because his uncle understood their
financial difficulties.
"Well, there's a fast boat next Saturday," he said. "I think I'll go
by her."
"Wait another week, to please me," Challoner urged him. "You have had
a dull time since I've been ill, and now I'd like you to get about. I
shall miss you badly, Dick."
Blake agreed. He felt that he ought to have sailed earlier, but the
temptation to remain was strong. He now met Millicent every day, and
it might be a very long time before he returned to England. He feared
that he was laying up trouble for himself, but he recklessly determined
to make the most of the present, and, in spite of his misgivings, the
next eight or nine days brought him many delightful hours. Now that
she knew he was going, Millicent abandoned the reserve she had
sometimes shown. She was sympathetic, interested in his plans, and, he
thought, altogether charming. They were rapidly drawn closer together,
and the more he learned of her character, the stronger his admiration
grew. At times he imagined he noticed a tender shyness in her manner,
and though it delighted him he afterward took himself to task. He was
not acting honorably; he had no right to win this girl's love, as he
was trying to do; but there was the excuse that she knew his history
and it had not made her cold to him.
Mrs. Keith looked on with observant eyes. She had grown very fond of
her companion and she made many opportunities for throwing the two
together. One afternoon a day or two before Blake's departure she
called Millicent into her room.
"Have you ever thought about your future?" she asked her abruptly.
"Not often since I have been with you," Millicent answered. "Before
that it used to trouble me."
"Then I'm afraid you're imprudent. You have no relatives you could
look to for help, and while my health is pretty good I can't, of
course, live for ever. I might leave you something, but it would not
be much, because my property is earmarked for a particular purpose."
Millicent wondered where this led, but Mrs. Keith went on abruptly:
"As you have found out, I am a frank old woman and not afraid to say
what I think. Now, I want to ask you a question. If you liked a man
who was far from rich, would you marry him?"
"It would depend," Millicent replied, with the color flaming up in her
cheeks. "Why do you ask? I can't give you a general answer."
"Then give me a particular one; I want to know."
The girl was embarrassed, but she had learned that her employer was not
to be put off easily.
"I suppose his being poor wouldn't daunt me, if I loved him enough."
"Then we'll suppose something else. If he had done something to be
ashamed of?"
Millicent looked up with a flash in her eyes.
"People are so ready to believe the worst! He did nothing that he need
blush for--that's impossible!" Then she saw the trap into which her
generous indignation had led her, but instead of looking down in
confusion she boldly faced Mrs. Keith. "Yes," she added, "if he wanted
me, I would marry him in spite of what people are foolish enough to
think."
"And you would not regret it." Mrs. Keith laid her hand on the girl's
arm with a caressing touch. "My dear, if you value your happiness, you
will tell him so. Remember that he is going away in a day or two."
"How can I tell him?" Millicent cried with burning face. "I only--I
mean you tricked me into telling you."
"It shouldn't be difficult to give him a tactful hint, and that
wouldn't be a remarkably unusual course," Mrs. Keith smiled. "The idea
that a proposal comes quite spontaneously is to some extent a
convention nowadays. I don't suppose you need reminding that we dine
at Sandymere to-morrow."
Millicent made no reply; she seemed rather overwhelmed by her
employer's frankness, and Mrs. Keith took pity on her and let her go,
with a final bit of advice:
"Think over what I told you!"
Millicent thought of nothing else. She knew that Blake loved her and
she believed that she understood why he had not declared himself. Now
he might go away without speaking. It was hateful to feel that she
must make the first advances and reveal her tenderness for him. She
felt that she could not do so; and, yet, the alternative seemed worse.