The Girl from Keller's Part 8

Festing began by relating Charnock's troubles. He meant her to understand the situation and supplied rather confusing particulars about prairie farming and mortgages. For all that, the line he took was strong; he showed how Charnock's embarra.s.sments prevented his offering her comforts she would find needful and saving her from the monotonous toil an impoverished farmer's wife must undertake. In the meantime, but unconsciously, he threw some light on Charnock's vacillating character.

When he stopped Helen mused for a few minutes. Although she had got a shock when Charnock gave her up, she knew her lover better than when she had promised to marry him. He came home once in the winter and she had remarked a change. Bob was not altogether the man she had thought; there were things that jarred, and his letters gradually made this plainer.

Still she had meant to keep her promise, and his withdrawal hurt. She had borne something for his sake, because her mother and her relations had not approved the engagement. Then she roused herself and turned to Festing.

"You have done your best for your friend and Bob ought to be grateful, but you both start from a wrong point. Why do you take it for granted that I would shrink from hards.h.i.+p?"

"I didn't imagine you would shrink," Festing declared. "For all that, Bob was right. The life is too hard for a girl brought up like you." He hesitated a moment. "I mean for a girl brought up in your surroundings."

Helen smiled and he knew it was a sign of courage, but had a vague feeling that he understood why she did so as he looked about. The sighing in the beech tops had died away and the shadows did not move upon the lawn. A heavy smell of flowers came from the borders and the house seemed to be sleeping in the hot suns.h.i.+ne. Everything was beautiful, well-ordered, and tranquil, but he knew if he stayed there long he would hear the cry of the black geese and the clang of flung-down rails ring through the soporific calm. Something in the girl's face indicated that she might find the calm oppressive and sympathize with him.

"What is Bob going to do now he has lost his farm?" she asked after a time.

"In one respect, he won't be much worse off. They expect a boom at the settlement, and he'll manage the hotel and store and poolroom for Keller. The old man will probably retire soon and Bob will get the business."

"But why should the proprietor give the business to Bob?"

"He's Sadie's father," Festing answered with some surprise.

"But who is Sadie?"

Festing looked up sharply and saw that Helen was puzzled and suspicious.

Her eyes were harder and her mouth was set.

"Ah!" he said. "Don't you know?"

A wave of color flushed Helen's face, but her voice was level. "I don't know! It looks as if Bob had not told me the most important thing. Do you mean that he is going to marry Miss Keller?"

Festing felt pitiful. He saw that she had got a shock, but she bore it pluckily, and he tried to conquer his indignant rage. Charnock had let him believe he had told her; he ought to have realized that the fellow could not act straight.

"I thought you knew," he stammered.

"That's obvious," Helen replied with an effort for calm. "But tell me something about Miss Keller."

"Sadie runs the hotel and helps at the store. She's rather pretty and intelligent. In fact, she's generally capable and a good manager."

"You seem to know her well since you call her Sadie."

"Oh," said Festing, "everybody calls her Sadie!"

"You mean in the bar and poolroom? I understand the latter's a public billiard-saloon!"

Festing felt that he must do Sadie justice. She had her virtues, and although he was very angry with Charnock he did not want Helen to think the fellow had given her up for a worthless rival. Still he was not sure if his putting the girl in a favorable light would soften the blow or not.

"To begin with, they don't employ women in a Canadian bar. Then Sadie's quite a good sort and understands Bob--perhaps better than an English girl could. She was brought up on the plains and knows all about the life we lead."

"You imply that she is not fastidious, and will be lenient to her husband's faults? That she will bring him down to her level?"

"Well," said Festing, who thought Helen did not know Charnock's dissipated habits, "I imagine she'll keep him there, and that's something. I mean she won't let him sink below her level; Sadie's shrewd and determined. Then marriage is a problem to men like Bob farming the plains. Girls of the type they have been used to and would naturally choose couldn't stand the hards.h.i.+ps."

"So they are satisfied with a lower type? With any girl who pleases their eye?"

"I don't think that's quite fair," Festing objected. "Besides, lower is rather vague."

"Then would you, for example, be satisfied with a girl like Miss Keller?"

"Certainly not," said Festing, with incautious firmness. "Anyway, not now I've seen a different kind in the Old Country."

Helen turned her head and said nothing for a few moments. Then she got up.

"I think you have had a difficult task, Mr. Festing, and I must thank you for the way you have carried it out. We won't speak of it again; but perhaps if Muriel Gardiner----"

"She hasn't asked me any questions or hinted that she is curious."

There was a gleam of amus.e.m.e.nt in Helen's eyes. "So you imagined she wasn't interested! Well, you can tell her about Bob's losses and farming troubles. You understand these matters, and it will save me something."

Festing made a sign of agreement and Helen went with him to the terrace, where Mrs. Dalton told him when he would find them at home if he wished to come again. He was glad to leave because he thought the interview had been difficult for Helen, but her mother had made him feel that if he came back he would be welcome. This was not altogether conventional politeness; he imagined she wanted to see him, although she was obviously willing to let him go then.

He puzzled about it and other matters as he rode back. Helen Dalton was finer than her picture. He had, no doubt, been awkward and had hurt her by his clumsiness, while she had got a painful shock, but had borne it with unflinching pluck. Her calm had not deceived him, since he knew what it cost, and her smile had roused his pity because it was so brave.

Then his anger against Charnock returned with extra force. The fellow, as usual, had s.h.i.+rked his duty, and left him to tell the girl he had really given her up because he meant to marry somebody else. Festing thought she was too just to blame him for Bob's fault, but he had been forced to witness her humiliation, and she would, no doubt, avoid him because of this. Well, he had done with Bob, although he would see him once on his return and tell him what he thought.

Then he heard a shout and saw a farmer trying to move a loaded cart out of his way. He had not noticed that he was riding furiously down a hill, but he sped past the cart upon the gra.s.sy margin of the road and laughed as he went on. His mood had changed and he resolved that he would go back to the creeper-covered house when Helen had had time to recover and his society would be less disturbing. After all, Mrs. Dalton had told him he might come.

In the evening he walked up and down the terrace with Muriel, and told her why he had gone to Knott Scar, although he was satisfied with relating Charnock's financial troubles and said nothing about his engagement to Sadie. He could not say that Muriel actually led him on, but he felt that she would be disappointed if he did not take her into his confidence.

"Of course I saw you knew all about it," she said when he stopped.

"Besides, I expected that Helen would give you leave to tell me. It would make things easier for her and be more authentic."

"I should expect Miss Dalton to think of that."

Muriel smiled. "Perhaps not. Well, I imagine it's lucky Charnock released her; Helen is much too good for him. I suppose you thought you took the proper line in laying all the stress you could upon the hards.h.i.+ps?"

"I did. I thought she couldn't stand the strain she would have had to bear."

"How did she take that?"

"She seemed surprised, as if she didn't think it much of a reason for Charnock letting her go."

"Frankly, I don't think it was."

"You haven't been to Canada. The life is hard."

"It doesn't seem to have broken down your health or nerve."

"That's different. A man gets used to hards.h.i.+ps and discomfort. They're sometimes bracing."

"A very masculine att.i.tude! Then men alone have pluck and endurance?"

"There are two kinds of pluck," Festing rejoined. "I dare say you surpa.s.s us in the moral kind--I'm sure Miss Dalton has more than Charnock. But there's the other; physical courage, and if you like, physical strength."