GEORGE REPROACHES HIMSELF
The days were getting shorter fast, but the evening was warm when George
Strange leaned against the rails of Farnam's veranda. He had arrived,
looking anxious, as supper was served, but did not state why he felt
disturbed and Mrs. Farnam waited. She knew he had come to consult her,
and thought she knew what about. Now he gazed moodily across the
orchard, where red and yellow apples gleamed on the bent branches. The
slanting sunbeams struck across the trees, which melted, farther off,
into the blue shadow of the bush.
"That's a great show of fruit," he remarked.
"Pretty good," Farnam agreed. "Reports indicate that packers won't find
much surplus for shipping in the United States, and prices will be high.
In fact, I rather think my speculation is justified. Although clearing
new ground and buying young trees made a drain on my capital--"
"Don't tell him he's enterprising! He's too adventurous," interrupted
Mrs. Farnam, who wanted to give George a lead. "It's exciting to take
chances, but they don't always turn out as one hopes. But how's your
business? I understand trade is dull."
"I have known it better, but that's not bothering me."
"Still as you don't look serene, I imagine something is bothering you."
"I don't feel serene, and that's why I came. You know Agatha better than
anybody else. Have you heard from her recently?"
"Not since the letter she sent me when she reached the mine, and you saw
that. I'm getting anxious. She has stopped some time and the school has
reopened."
"She has stopped too long," said George, whose face got red. "It looks
as if you didn't know they had filled her post."
"I was afraid they might do so, but it's a shock all the same. But
perhaps you can do something. You persuaded the principal and managers
when Agatha was ill."
"I've come from Toronto and I saw the principal," George replied.
"Couldn't get at anybody else and imagine they didn't want to see me."
"Well?" said Mrs. Farnam when he stopped with some embarrassment.
"She was very polite, with the kind of politeness that freezes you.
Didn't say much--nothing that I could get hold of and deny. But she
implied a lot."
"You can be frank. I believe I'm Agatha's oldest friend and I trust my
husband with all I know."
"Very well; I've got to talk. Miss Southern began by supposing I had
come to explain my sister's neglect of her duty, which had made things
awkward at the school. I said I had not; I didn't know why Agatha had
not come back, but had no doubt it was because she found it impossible.
She'd gone off on an excursion into the northern bush, and accidents
happened. One lost one's canoes and provisions ran out.
"Miss Southern said it was plain that as Agatha had important duties
she ought not to run such a risk, and asked what was the object of the
excursion.
"I said it was a prospecting trip. Agatha had gone to find some silver
ore; and Miss Southern gave me a look that made me mad. It hinted that
she thought my statement much too thin! Then she remarked that the
managers felt that their teachers must concentrate on their work and
divided interests made for slackness. In short, as Agatha had not come
back, they had got somebody else to take her post.
"That was a knock, but I said I supposed they'd give her a first-rate
testimonial if she applied for another job.
"She looked as if she didn't want to hurt me, but admitted that they
would be willing to state that Agatha had ability and taught science
well. Then she stopped and I asked if she could go no farther. Ability
wasn't all a teacher needed.
"She said she must agree, and hinted that she had expected much from
Agatha, but felt badly disappointed now. She remarked that managers made
searching inquiries when they engaged a teacher for young girls and
thought I could understand that she felt responsible--
"Well, I'd had enough. I said my sister was fit for a better job than
the best they'd got and wouldn't bother them for a recommendation. Then
I left; thought I'd better quit before I let myself go." George paused
and wiped his hot face. "You see how I was fixed? I could have bluffed a
man into making a plain statement and then have knocked him out; but
that cool, polite lady made me hate my helplessness."
"You were at a disadvantage," Mrs. Farnam agreed with a smile that was
half amused and half sympathetic. "But I wonder who told her! Do you
think that fellow Stormont--"
"I'm going to find out," George said grimly. "In the meantime, it's not
important. I reckon you understand what this thing implies? If these
people won't support Agatha's application, she can't get another post.
She'd have made her mark teaching, but now all that's gone; she's turned
down, and I'm responsible!"
"You are not to blame. I wonder whether she really knew the risk?"
"She knew she'd lose her job, but it wouldn't stop her; Agatha's like
that! Anyhow, I am to blame," George rejoined. "I'm the head of the
family and ought to have made her cut out the blamed foolish notion. I
knew what the lode meant to my mother and how she hated to hear the old
man talk about it. It took him--and now it's got my sister--"
He stopped, struggling with emotion, and Mrs. Farnam said:
"Perhaps I ought to have given Agatha a plainer hint; but, except for
school managers, we're not very conventional people in this country.
Then I liked her pluck. It's weak to give way to the prejudices of
censorious folks. Besides, in a sense, she really wasn't rash."
"That's not the trouble," George replied with heat. "I know my sister;
so do you! But she's got to start business since she can't teach school,
and I hate to think of her clerking in a store. She has talent and
ambition."
"Talent will make its way anywhere," Farnam remarked consolingly.
"I don't know! Agatha's proud and has no use for the cheap tricks that
help you get ahead of the other man. She won't advertise her smartness
and she's too dignified to snatch at chances among the scrambling crowd.
I've pushed through; but it has put some marks on me, and I'm most
afraid my sister's going to be hurt."
"You're taking it for granted she won't find the lode," Farnam resumed.
"Shucks!" said George with scorn. "All the comfort I've got is knowing
she won't have the money to waste on looking for the ore again--"
He stopped and listened to a rattle of wheels. "Some of your friends
coming? Don't mean to be rude, but I hope they're not. I'm not in a mood
to talk to strangers."
"We expect nobody," Farnam replied. "I ordered some goods from Kingston,
and Gordon's man promised to bring them from the depot if they came."
The rattle got louder, but the trees hid the rig, which was approaching
the back of the house. It stopped, there were steps in the hall, and
Mrs. Farnam turned with an exclamation. Farnam pushed his chair back and
George sprang upright as Agatha came out on the veranda.
She was very brown and thin; her clothes were new, but obviously cheap
and the fit was bad. As she glanced at the group she smiled and there
was nothing in her tranquil manner to indicate the repentant prodigal.
She kissed Mrs. Farnam and gave George her hand.
"It really looks as if you were rather surprised than pleased," she
remarked.
"We're both," said Mrs. Farnam. "But how did you come? It's some time
since the Toronto train got in. George has been here nearly an hour."
"Your neighbor's hired man drove me from the station. I came by Amprior
and Prescott; there was a wash-out on the Sudbury track. But what was
George doing at Toronto?"
"Looking after your business," George replied. "I'm afraid you've got to
brace up. They told me you were fired!"
Agatha laughed. "I expected something like that! It really doesn't
matter."
"It doesn't matter!" George exclaimed, and gasped with indignation.
"Anyhow, it matters to me. I've been fuming and fretting since I saw
your principal." He turned to the others, as if for support. "What can
you do with a girl who talks in this way? How'm I to make her
understand?"
"I think you had better wait a little," Mrs. Farnam said and glanced at
Agatha. "But did you travel in those clothes, my dear? Where did you buy
them?"
"At a bush store," said Agatha, smiling. "They were not as cheap as they
look, and my others had worn to rags. Besides, I hadn't much time, and
it wasn't worth while to bother about my dress."
"You don't seem to bother about much," George remarked. "In fact, you've
come back with a lordly calm that's as exasperating as it's
unjustifiable."
Agatha gave him a thoughtful look. "Is Florence well?"
"Quite well. She's disturbed about you."
"Then it's probably business! I suppose trade is bad?"
George lost his self-control. He was glad to see her back, but
remembered what he had suffered for her sake.
"My business doesn't occupy all my thoughts and you have made a blamed
poor joke! Here am I and your friends, trying to grapple with an awkward
situation and puzzling how we're to help you out, and you _laugh_. So
far as I can see, there's nothing humorous--"
"Don't be cross," Agatha interrupted. "I don't need helping out. If
business isn't very good, I can offer you a post."
George made an abrupt movement and looked hard at her. Farnam laughed
softly, and his wife leaned forward.
"You see, I've found the lode. It's richer than I thought," Agatha
resumed.
There was silence for a few moments, and then George said: "I want time
to get hold of this. You found the ore the old man talked about! It's
not another stupid joke?"
"Not at all. Father located the vein on his last journey and left a
paper with directions. Mr. Thirlwell found it in his tobacco-box. The
directions were not complete and we had some trouble--but we'll talk
about this later. The claim is recorded and Mr. Thirlwell has gone back
to begin the development. Mr. Scott, his employer, is coming to see
you."
"Well," said George dully, "I'll own I've got a knock. I reckoned if
there was a lode, it would never be found. Looks as if I didn't know as
much as I thought. But that's not all. Since I was old enough to guess
my mother's fears I did the old man wrong. He's made good. I doubted,
but you knew him best and you believed."
"Agatha's tired," Mrs. Farnam broke in. "She needs a rest and I'm going
to get her some food. You can ask her what you like when I bring her
back."
"I suppose you want to satisfy your curiosity first," Farnam suggested.
"We're not going to talk about _mining_," Mrs. Farnam rejoined.
"However, I must do you justice; you took Agatha's side from the first.
After all, your judgment's good now and then."
She took Agatha away and when they had gone George remarked: "I can't
grip the thing yet. It's hard to get rid of a fixed idea you've had from
boyhood. Still I ought to have known that Agatha wouldn't undertake a
job she couldn't put over."
It was getting dark when Mrs. Farnam and the girl came back, and George
said, "Now I want to know all about your trip. Begin where you left the
cars and go right on."
"That will take some time," Mrs. Farnam interposed. "Shall I light the
lamp in the room?"
"I think not," said Agatha, and smiled. "My story goes best with the
twilight in the open. We had no lamps and pretty furniture in the bush."
She was silent for a few moments, looking across the orchard. The fruit
trees were blurred and dim and the pines were black, but the sky shone
softly red and green above their ragged tops. Then she began to talk;
disjointedly at first, but the scenes she recalled got clearer as she
went on, and she forgot her audience. It was her business to make
things plain; she had studied this part of her vocation and
unconsciously used her power to seize and hold the other's interest, but
she did not know that she was drawing a lifelike portrait of her guide.
Mrs. Farnam knew, and with a tactful question here and there led the
girl forward.
It was, however, impossible to relate her journey and leave Thirlwell
out. He took the leading part that belonged to him, and his character
was firmly outlined by her memory of the things he had said and done.
With something besides artistic talent Agatha unconsciously developed
the sketch, dwelling upon his cheerfulness, courage, and resource. She
told the others how he had nerved her to resolute effort when they had
difficulties to overcome, sympathized when she was tired, and held the
confidence of his men. Moreover, she made it obvious that there had been
no romantic philandering. He had given her an unselfish, brotherly
protection.
The narrative lost something of its force after she came to the finding
of the broken range. She saw she had been franker than she thought, and
the change in Thirlwell could not be talked about. It was dark now, the
red and green had faded above the trees, and she was grateful for the
gloom. She was not afraid of George and Farnam, but did not want Mabel
to study her. Only the latter noted that she paused awkwardly now and
then and added a rather involved explanation. The men were engrossed by
Thirlwell's efforts to find the ore. When she stopped they were quiet
for a few moments.
Then George said: "You would never have struck the lode without that
man." He turned to the others. "Some story of a prospecting trip! What
do you think?"
"I think Agatha was very lucky," Mrs. Farnam said with meaning. "Perhaps
luckier than she deserved."
"Thirlwell's all right," George bluntly agreed, and then addressed
Agatha: "You have often got after me about being a business man, and
I'll own I don't let many chances of making a dollar pass. But this
thing goes back of business. Thirlwell's entitled to half of all you
get."
Agatha was moved. She had found out some time since that she had not
always understood George.
"I offered him half," she said and paused. "He wouldn't accept."
Mrs. Farnam, seeing the girl was embarrassed, got up. "I'm cold. We had
better go in."
When she had lighted the lamp, Farnam went out and came back with a tray
of bottles and glasses.
"It's not often we celebrate an event like this," he said as he opened a
bottle. "We have no wine, but this is some of our own hard cider that I
meant to send to the Fruit-Growers' Exhibition. There's nothing else
good enough."
He filled the glasses and with a few happy words wished Agatha success.
She thanked him and afterwards stood up, very straight but silent, and
with her eyes shining softly lifted her glass above her head. The others
lifted theirs, in grave quietness, for they knew what she meant. The
pioneers touch the ridge-pole of the tent, or the roof-tree of the
shack, when they drink to the memory of comrades who have gone out on
the last lone trail. But George's look was troubled and his hand shook.
"He made good," he said, and added, when they had drunk and Farnam
refilled the glasses: "Here's to the man who helped you prove it; the
man who did my job!"
Mrs. Farnam studied Agatha and noted the softness of her look. Then she
took the girl away and some time afterwards, when they were talking in
her room, remarked: "There's an obvious end to your romance, my dear. I
suppose you're going to marry Thirlwell?"
Agatha blushed, but gave her a steady glance. "He has not asked me."
Mrs. Farnam pondered this and then made a sign of understanding. "I
think I see; the man is white, although perhaps he's foolishly proud. In
fact, I imagine he's worth one's taking some trouble about--"
She stopped, seeing Agatha's frown, and then resumed with a smile: "No;
I'm not going to meddle! It's better to wait. He's a man, after all; you
really have some charm, and human nature's strong."