There was been frost next evening and Foster drove to the Crossing
without his comrade, who thought it wiser to stay at home. The reunion
he was going to attend was held annually by one or two mutual-improvement
societies that combined to open their winter sessions. It had originally
begun with a lecture on art or philosophy, but had degenerated into a
supper and dance. Supper came early, because in Canada the meal is
generally served about six o'clock.
The wooden hall was decorated with flags and cedar boughs, and well
filled with young men and women, besides a number of older citizens. The
floor and music were good, and Foster enjoyed two dances before he met
Carmen Austin. He had not sought her out, because she was surrounded by
others, and he knew that if she wanted to dance with him she would let
him know. It was generally wise to wait Carmen's pleasure.
When he left his last partner he stood in a quiet nook, looking about the
hall. The girls were pretty and tastefully dressed, though generally
paler than the young Englishwomen he remembered. The men were athletic,
and their well-cut clothes, which fitted somewhat tightly, showed their
finely developed but rather lean figures. They had a virile, decided
look, and an ease of manner that indicated perfect self-confidence.
Indeed, some were marked by an air of smartness that was half aggressive.
A large number were employed at the Hulton factory, but there were
brown-faced farmers and miners from the bush, as well as storekeepers
from the town.
On the whole, their dress, manners and conversation were American, and
Foster was sometimes puzzled by their inconsistency. He liked these
people and got on well with them, but had soon discovered that in order
to do so he must abandon his English habits and idiosyncrasies. His
neighbors often showed a certain half-hostile contempt for the customs of
the Old Country, and he admitted that had he been less acquainted with
their character, it would have been easy to imagine that Gardner's
Crossing was situated in Michigan instead of Ontario. Yet they had
rejected the Reciprocity Treaty on patriotic grounds, and in a recent
crisis had demonstrated their passionate approval of Britain's policy.
He had no doubt that if the need came they would offer the mother country
the best they had with generous enthusiasm, and nobody knew better that
their best was very good.
By and by Carmen dismissed the young men around her and summoned him with
a graceful motion of her fan. He crossed the floor, and when he stopped
close by with a bow that was humorously respectful she gave him a cool,
approving glance. Foster was twenty-eight, but looked younger. Though
he had known hardship, his face was smooth, and when unoccupied he had a
good-humored and somewhat languid air. He was tall and rather thin, but
athletic toil had toughened and strengthened him, and he had frank gray
eyes that generally smiled. A glove that looked significantly slack
covered his left hand, which had been maimed by a circular saw when he
worked in his mill.
Carmen was a blonde, but with none of the softness that often
characterizes this type of beauty. Her features were sharply cut, her
well-proportioned figure was firmly lined, and the lack of color in her
face was made up for by the keen sparkle in her eyes. As a rule, Carmen
Austin's wishes were carried out. She knew how to command, and rival
beauties who now and then ventured to oppose her soon found that her
power was unshakable.
"You haven't thought it worth while to ask for a dance yet," she
remarked, and Foster could not tell if she was offended or not.
"No," he replied, smiling, "I was afraid of getting a disappointment,
since I didn't know your plans, but only made a few engagements in case
you sent for me. One finds it best to wait your orders."
Carmen studied him thoughtfully. "You generally take the proper line;
sometimes I think you're cleverer than you look. Anyway, one isn't
forced to explain things to you. Explaining what one wants is always
annoying."
"Exactly. My business is to guess what you would like and carry it out
as far as I can. When I'm right this saves you some trouble and gives me
keen satisfaction. It makes me think I am intelligent."
"Our boys are a pretty good sample, but they don't talk like that. I
suppose you learned it in the Old Country. You know, you're very
English, in some respects."
"Well," said Foster, "that is really not my fault. I was born English,
but I'll admit that I've found it a drawback since I came to Canada."
Carmen indicated the chair next her. "You may sit down if you like. You
start for the Old Country on Thursday, don't you?"
"Thank you; yes," said Foster. "One likes to be in the fashion, and it's
quite the proper thing to make the trip when work's finished for the
winter. You find miners saving their wages to buy a ticket, and the
Manitoba men sail across by dozens after a good harvest. As they often
maintain that the Old Country's a back number, one wonders why they go."
"After all, I suppose they were born there."
"That doesn't seem to count. As a rule, there's nobody more Canadian
first of all than the man who's only a Canadian by adoption."
"Then why do you want to go?"
"I can't tell you. I had a hard life in England and, on the whole, was
glad to get away. Perhaps it's a homing instinct, like the pigeon's, and
perhaps it's sentiment. We came out because nobody wanted us and have
made ourselves pretty comfortable. America's our model and we have no
use for English patronage, but every now and then the pull comes and we
long to go back, though we wouldn't like to stop there. It's illogical,
but if there was trouble in Europe and the Old Country needed help, we'd
all go across."
"In a mild way, the journey's something of an adventure," Carmen
suggested. "Doesn't that appeal to a man?"
"It does," Foster agreed. "One might imagine that there was enough
adventure here, but it really isn't so. The lone trail has a mineral
claim at the end of it; you look forward to the elevator company's
receipt when you break the new furrow. Hardship gets as monotonous as
comfort; you want something fresh, a job, in fact, that you don't
undertake for money. Of course, if you look at it economically, this is
foolish."
"I like you better as a sentimentalist than a philosopher," Carmen
answered. "It's the former one goes to when one wants things done.
However, if you would like a dance----"
She danced well and Foster knew there were men in the hall who envied
him. He, moreover, imagined that Carmen knew it would be remarked that
she had banished her other attendants and shown him special favor. This,
of course, would not trouble her, because Carmen generally did what she
pleased, but he felt inclined to wonder about her object. He knew her
well enough to think she had an object. When the music stopped she said,
"Now you may take me in to supper."
Supper was served in an ante-room, but, although this was contrary to
local custom, the guests came in when they liked and were provided with
small, separate tables. Instead of Foster's leading, Carmen guided him
to a quiet nook, partly screened by cedar branches, where they could see
without being seen. He thought it significant that a spot with such
advantages should be unoccupied, but this did not cause him much
surprise. Things generally happened as Carmen wanted, and it was a
privilege to sup with the prettiest and cleverest girl in the hall.
"You are going to stay at Featherstone's home in England, aren't you?"
she asked by and by.
"Yes," said Foster, who wondered how she knew. "Since I've spent ten
years on the plains and in the bush, it will be a rather embarrassing
change. You see, I'm better used to bachelor shacks and logging camps
than English country houses."
Carmen firmly brought him back to the subject. "Do you know much about
your partner's relatives? It's obvious that he belongs to a good family.
However, you'll have him with you."
Foster smiled. He did not mean to tell her that Featherstone was not
going with him.
"I know nothing about them. In fact, my ignorance of the habits of a
good family rather weighs on my mind."
Carmen gave him a level, critical glance. "They won't be able to find
much fault with you, and if they did, you wouldn't guess it, so it
wouldn't matter. But that is not what I meant. You have been
Featherstone's partner for some time, and it's curious that he has told
you nothing about his home."
"He's reserved," said Foster, who looked up as Daly came into the room
with a laughing girl, at whom Carmen glanced somewhat coldly. "Do you
know what that man is doing here?"
"I don't, but as he's agent for an engineering company, I dare say he's
looking for orders. Hulton's are buying new plant."
"But he's often in your father's office and at your house, and Mr. Austin
doesn't buy machines."
"Then perhaps he's speculating in building lots; we deal in them," Carmen
rejoined with a laugh. "I sometimes meet my father's friends, but don't
ask them about their business."
She went on with her supper, and Daly and his companion sat down not far
off. The fellow was well dressed and on the whole a handsome man, though
there was nothing about him to excite marked attention. He looked a
little older than Foster, who studied him thoughtfully. Daly had sold
one or two machines in the neighborhood of the Crossing, but the business
he did there hardly seemed to warrant his visit. It was possible that he
made it an excuse for watching Featherstone, but Foster fancied that
Carmen knew more about him than she confessed.
"Perhaps you will visit Scotland before you come back," she said by and
by.
"It's possible. Featherstone's relations live near the Border."
"Then I dare say you will take a packet for me to Edinburgh."
"Of course," said Foster, who felt some surprise, and thought Carmen saw
this although she looked at him gratefully.
"I know you'll take care of it, and you don't ask questions; but you
wonder why I want to send it by you. Well, the girls are inquisitive in
our post office, and I'm sending the packet to a man. Besides, I
wouldn't like it damaged, and things sometimes get broken in the mail."
Foster said this often happened and hinted that the man was fortunate,
but Carmen laughed.
"Oh," she said, "he's as old as my father; we have friends in the Old
Country. But there really is a little secret about the matter, and I
don't want anybody but you to see the packet."
"Very well; but I believe the Customs searchers, who examine your
baggage, are sometimes officious. They might think I was trying to
smuggle and make me open the thing."
"No; they wouldn't suspect you. You have such a careless and innocent
look. For all that, your friends know you can be trusted."
"Thank you! I suppose I'm lucky, because one meets people whose looks are
against them. Anyhow, I'll take the packet, and if necessary, protect it
with my life."
"It won't be necessary," Carmen answered, smiling. Although she talked
about other matters for some minutes before she told him to take her back
to the hall, he imagined this was tactful politeness and she did not want
to dismiss him too soon after obtaining her object.
He danced one or two dances with other partners and enjoyed them keenly.
His work was finished for the winter, and after the strenuous toil of the
last ten years, it was a new and exhilarating experience to feel at
liberty. Then there was no reason he should deny himself the pleasure he
expected to derive from his trip. Their small mill was only adapted for
the supply of certain kinds of lumber, for which there was now not much
demand, and they had not enough money to remodel it, while business would
not get brisk again until the spring.
By and by he went to the smoking-room and lighting a cigarette, thought
over what Carmen had said to him. At first she had seemed anxious to
find out something about Featherstone, but he was not surprised by this.
Carmen liked to know as much as possible about everybody she met, and
used her knowledge cleverly when it was to her advantage. The other
matter was more puzzling and he wondered why she wanted to send a packet
secretly to a man as old as her father. It might, of course, be a
caprice, because girls were fond of mystery, but, as a rule, Carmen had a
practical object for what she did. She had stated that they had friends
in England, and this might mean that she had a lover. Perhaps she had
exaggerated his age, and in any case, Foster thought it would not be a
great drawback, if the man were rich. Carmen was rather ambitious than
romantic.
Her plans, however, were not his business, and he felt no jealousy. He
liked Carmen and had some respect for her abilities, but thought he would
sooner not marry her, even if she were willing, which was most
improbable. Since he had promised to take the packet, he would do so and
say nothing about the matter.
He left the hall early, and driving home found his partner sitting by the
stove.
"Was Daly at the reunion?" Featherstone asked.
Foster said he was there, and Featherstone resumed thoughtfully: "It's
curious he hasn't come to the mill yet, but if he doesn't turn up before
Thursday, he'll be too late. I'll be ready to start with you by the
afternoon train, and as there's no use in spoiling a good plan for a few
dollars, I'll buy a ticket and check my baggage to Ottawa. Then I'll get
off at Streeton Creek, where I won't have long to wait if the west-bound
train's on time. You can express my things on from Ottawa. The Montreal
express stops about an hour."
"That ought to throw Daly off the track," Foster agreed, and they talked
about something else.