Leger looked at him in astonishment. "I'm not aware of having done it, but if it pleases him to come there why shouldn't he?"
"I suppose it doesn't occur to you that there is anything unusual in the fact that a man whose time is worth a good deal just now should spend several hours of it hacking pine knots out of trees and then scramble two miles with as much as a horse could carry on his back over an infamous trail?"
"You mean that he does not do it to please you or me?"
"Yes," said Ingleby. "That is it exactly. Of course, I know I'm taking an unwarranted liberty, but if I had felt that Hetty could have had any liking for him I should not have mentioned it to you. Still, don't you think it might be better if she didn't see so much of him?"
Leger laughed. "So far, at least, she hasn't shown the smallest sign of recognizing the merits of the fortunate Tomlinson."
Ingleby looked down across the pines. "We are old friends, and you won't mind my saying that I'm very glad."
"Well," said Leger, who glanced at him sharply, "I can't quite see why you should be. The man has an excellent character, and I like him. He has also, what some folks would consider of as much importance, a profitable mine."
"Still, he isn't half good enough for her," persisted Ingleby.
Leger did not speak for a moment, and during the somewhat embarrassing silence his face grew a trifle grave. Then, he said quietly, "I fancy that is a point for Hetty to decide."