VANE YIELDS A POINT.
The short afternoon was drawing towards its close when Vane came out of
a building in Hastings Street, Vancouver.
"The meeting went satisfactorily, taking it all round," he remarked to
Carroll, who was with him.
"I think so," agreed his companion. "But I'm far from sure that
Horsfield was pleased with the stockholders' decision."
Vane nodded in a thoughtful manner. After returning from the mine, he
had gone inland to examine a new irrigation property he had been asked
to take an interest in, and had only got back in time for a meeting of
the Clermont shareholders, which Nairn had arranged in his absence. The
meeting was just over, and though Vane had been forced to yield to a
majority on some points, he had secured the abandonment of a proposition
he considered dangerous.
"Though I don't see what the man could have gained by it, I'm inclined
to believe that if Nairn and I had been absent he'd have carried his
reconstruction scheme," he said. "That wouldn't have pleased me."
"I thought it injudicious," Carroll commented.
"It was only because we must raise more money I agreed to the issue of
the new shares," Vane went on. "We ought to pay a fair dividend on such
a moderate sum."
"You think you'll get it?"
"I've not much doubt."
Vane was capable and forceful; but his abilities were rather of a
practical than a diplomatic order, and he was occasionally addicted to
headstrong action. Knowing that he had a very cunning antagonist
intriguing against him, his companion had misgivings.
"Shall we walk back to the hotel?" he asked.
"No," said Vane; "I'll go across and see how Celia Hartley's getting on.
I'm afraid I've been forgetting her."
"Then I'll come too. You may need me; there are matters you're not to be
trusted with alone."
Just then Nairn came down the steps and waved his hand to them. "Ye will
no forget that Mrs. Nairn is expecting both of ye this evening."
He passed on, and they set off together across the city towards the
district where Celia lived. Though the quarter in question may have been
improved out of existence since, some little time ago rows of low-rented
shacks stood upon mounds of sweating sawdust which had been dumped into
a swampy hollow. Leaky, frail, and fissured, they were not the kind of
places any one who could help it would choose to live in; but Vane found
the sick girl still installed in one of the worst of them. She looked
pale and haggard; but she was busily at work upon some millinery, and
the light of a tin lamp showed Drayton and Kitty Blake sitting near her.
"You oughtn't to be at work; you don't look fit," Vane said to Celia,
and hesitated a moment before he continued: "I'm sorry we couldn't find
that spruce; but, as I told Drayton, we're going back to try again."
The girl smiled bravely. "Then you'll find it next time. I'm glad I'm
able to do a little; it brings a few dollars in."
"But what are you doing?"
"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
assist.
"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," assented 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 assembled, 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 gratitude, 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 compassion. 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.
Then he remembered that the girl had been offered to him and he had
refused the gift. He wondered how he had exerted the necessary strength
of will, for he was conscious that admiration, respect, pity, had now
changed and melted into sudden passion. His blood tingled and, as it
happened, no change of his expression was lost upon his companion.
Laying a check upon his thoughts, he resumed a desultory conversation
with Jessie, though he betrayed himself several times during it, and at
length she let him go. It was, however, some time before he secured a
place beside Evelyn. He was now quiet and self-contained.
"Nairn promised me a surprise this evening, but it has exceeded all my
expectations," he said. "How are your people?"
Evelyn informed him that their health was satisfactory, and added,
watching him the while: "Gerald sent his best remembrances."
"Ah!" said Vane in a casual manner, "I'm glad to have them."
Evelyn was now convinced that Mabel had been correct in concluding that
he had assisted Gerald financially, though she was aware that nothing
would induce either of the men to acquaint her with the fact.
"I understood from Mrs. Nairn that you were away in the bush," she said.
He turned and regarded her steadily. "That was the case, and I'm shortly
going off again. Perhaps it's fortunate that I may be away some time. It
will leave you more at ease."
The last remark was more of a question than an assertion, and Evelyn
knew the man could be direct. She also esteemed candour.
"No," she said; "I wouldn't wish you to think that--and I wouldn't like
to believe that I had anything to do with driving you away."
Vane saw a faintly warmer tone show through the clear pallor of her
skin; but while his heart beat faster than usual he felt that she meant
just what she said and nothing more. He must proceed with caution, which
was, on the whole, foreign to him; and shortly afterwards he left her.
When he had gone, Evelyn sat thinking about him. She had shrunk from the
man in rebellious alarm when her parents would have bestowed her hand on
him; but even then, and undoubtedly afterwards, she had felt that there
was something in his nature which would have attracted her, had she been
willing to allow it to do so. Now, though he had said nothing to rouse
it, the feeling was stronger. Then she remembered with a rather curious
smile her father's indignation when Vane had withdrawn from the field.
He had done this because she had appealed to his generosity, and she had
been grateful to him; but, unreasonable as she admitted the faint
resentment she was conscious of to be, the recollection of the fact that
he had yielded to her wishes was somehow bitter.
In the meanwhile, Carroll had taken his place by Jessie's side.
"I understand you steered your comrade satisfactorily through the
meeting to-day," she began.
"No," objected Carroll, "I can't claim any credit for doing so. In
matters of the kind, Vane takes full control, and I'm willing to own
that he drove us all, including your brother, on the course he chose."
"Then it's in other matters you exercise a little judicious pressure on
the helm?"
The man looked at her in well-assumed admiration of her keenness. "I
don't know how you guessed it, but I suppose it's a fact. It's, however,
an open secret that Vane's now and then unguardedly ingenuous; indeed,
there are respects in which he's a babe by comparison, we'll say, with
either of us."
"That's rather a dubious compliment," Jessie informed him. "What do you
think of Miss Chisholm? I suppose you saw a good deal of her in
England?"
"I spent a month or two in her company; so did Vane. I fancy she's
rather like him in several ways; and there are reasons for believing
that he thinks a good deal of her."
Having watched Vane carefully when Evelyn came in, Jessie was inclined
to agree with him, and she glanced round the room. One or two people
were moving about and the rest were talking in little groups; but there
was nobody very near, and she fancied that she and her companion were
safe from interruption.
"What were some of the reasons?" she asked.
Carroll had expected some question of this description, and had decided
to answer it plainly, because it seemed probable that Jessie would get
the information out of him in one way or another. He had also another
motive, which he thought a commendable one. Jessie had obviously taken a
certain interest in Vane, but it could not have gone very far as yet,
and Vane did not reciprocate it. The latter was, however, impulsive,
while Jessie was calculating and clever, and Carroll, who was slightly
afraid of her, foresaw that complications might follow any increase of
friendliness between her and his comrade. He thought it would be better
if she left Vane alone.
"Well," he said, "since you have asked, I'll try to tell you."
He proceeded to recount what had passed at the Dene and Jessie listened,
with an expressionless face.
"So he gave her up--because he admired her?" she said at length.
"That's my view of it," Carroll agreed.
Jessie made no comment, but he felt that she was hardly hit, which was
not what he had anticipated. He began to wonder if he had acted
judiciously and he glanced about the room. It did not seem considerate
to study her expression then. A few moments later she turned to him with
a smile in which there was the faintest hint of strain.
"I daresay you are right; but there are one or two people I haven't
spoken to," she said and moved away from him.
Some time after this Mrs. Nairn came upon Carroll standing for the
moment alone. "It's no often one sees ye looking moody," she informed
him. "Was Jessie no gracious?"
"That," said Carroll, smiling, "is not the difficulty. I'm an
unsusceptible and somewhat inconspicuous person, not worth powder and
shot, so to speak, for which I'm sometimes thankful. I believe it saves
me a good deal of trouble."
"Then, is it something Vane has done that is on your mind? Doubtless, ye
feel him a responsibility?"
"He's all that," Carroll confessed. "Still, you see, I've constituted
myself his guardian; I don't know why, because he'd probably be very
vexed if he suspected it."
"The gods give ye a good conceit o' yourself!" Mrs. Nairn exclaimed.
"I need it," said Carroll humbly. "This afternoon I let him do a most
injudicious thing, and now I've done another which I fear is worse. On
the whole, I think I'd better take him away to the bush. He'd be safer
there."
"Ye will not, no just now," declared his hostess firmly.
Carroll made a sign of resignation. "Oh, well," he said, "if you say so,
I'm quite willing to stand out and let things alone. Too many cooks are
apt to spoil the kail."
Mrs. Nairn left him, but she afterwards once or twice glanced
thoughtfully at Vane and Evelyn, who had once more drawn together.