"Nonsense, girl!" The comforter rose as he heard Charlie's voice in the outer hall. "You are depressed to-night. Life will look brighter to-morrow. These tangled trails are going to be straightened—I'm sure of it! Love will crystallize that Chinese legend into reality—for you and for Phil. Good-night! Good-night!"
For years Danvers had shunned women. Yet he had not spent his life in melancholy over Eva's defection; known to many, but understood by few, his real nature withdrew from the light. His intuitive attitude toward strangers of either sex was a negative indifference that gave him time to estimate their character or their motives—a habit desirable enough in business, but unsatisfactory in social life.
The growth of his regard for Winifred had been so gradual that he had not thought it might prove to be love. Her unaffected interest in the only life he had enjoyed—the old days at Fort Macleod—had roused him from apathy, and her comprehension of his motives and activities exhilarated him. He delighted in her intelligent comradeship when discussing the real world.
One subject, only, did she avoid, and that but recently. State politics were never mentioned after her brother became the keystone to the situation. Though she had no proof that Charlie's vote was the one vote necessary to Burroughs' election, she had no doubt that it was a fact.
When this shadow of another's crime crept over the brightness of their friendship, Danvers was bewildered—repulsed by her unusual reserve. The doctor's explanation gave him somewhat of courage, and he had the fine perseverance that conquers.
A few days after he had talked with the doctor Danvers saw Miss Blair crossing the street just ahead of him. He hastened to overtake her—he would put an end to her coldness and her repulses. As he dodged a car, he noted in her walk the pride and courage that had recently been added to her bearing. He thought he understood her attitude toward him—toward the whole world; and a flood of loving pity swept over him. Reaching the other side of the street, he found that she had disappeared. He looked up and down in the dusk, but caught no further sight of the elusive Miss Blair; and after lingering on the street for a half hour, he returned to the hotel.
As he ascended the stairs to the first floor he caught a glimpse of Charlie Blair, just entering the Latimers' apartments. His vexation at Winifred's avoidance was a small matter to the anger that now flamed within. Small wonder that Miss Blair wished to meet no one while this folly was unchecked! Yet he felt that he must share her trouble, and resolved to make one more attempt to see her that evening.