“Yes,” replied Nasmyth; “I almost think that describes it. You see, I am naturally aware of my own disabilities.”
“Still,” persisted Violet, “she nursed you when you were very ill, and, as you said, set you on your feet again. That would probably count for a good deal with her.”
Nasmyth made a hasty gesture. “You don’t understand. She would no doubt have taken pity on any dumb creature. She did it because she could not help it. One could fancy that kind of thing was born in her.”
Violet did not speak for a moment or two. Although it still remained uncertain whether the girl in the Bush had any tenderness for the man she had set upon his feet again, he had spoken of her in a manner which did not quite please Violet.
“Well,” she ventured, with a little diffident glance at him, “some day you will go back into the Bush.”
Nasmyth nodded. “Yes,” he said, “I think that’s certain. In fact, it’s probable that I shall go back very soon. As it happens, I have undertaken a big and rather difficult thing, which will give me a considerable lift up if I am successful.”
He lay silent for a minute before he turned to her again. “You see, I have been some time in this country, and never have done anything worth mentioning. 206 Chopping trees and driving cattle are no doubt useful occupations, but they don’t lead to anything. I feel that I am, so to speak, on my probation. I have still to win my spurs.”
“I wonder if that is one of the ideas Miss Waynefleet gave you?”
Nasmyth smiled. “I really believe it originated with her, but, as a matter of fact, it might have gone no further, which is an admission. Still, the desire to win those spurs has been growing so strong of late that I can’t resist it. In one way, I scarcely think that is very astonishing.”
Violet looked away from him, for she saw the gleam in his eyes, and fancied she understood what the new motive he had hinted at might be. Still, he did not appear disposed to mention it.