He strolled away, and Nasmyth sat down by Violet’s side.
“I fancied the man meant to stay,” he remarked.
Violet leaned back in the lounge, and looked at him a moment or two silently. Her thoughts were confused, and she was uneasy. In the first place, she almost wished it had not been so easy to make Carshalton understand that she wished him to go away; for the fact that she had been able to do so by merely looking at him suggested that there was at least a certain confidence between them, and she was unwilling to admit that such was the case. That, however, was only a minor point. While Carshalton had spoken of the simple life, and admitted that a few weeks of it was quite enough for him, she had thought with a certain tenderness of the man who had spent months of strenuous toil in the misty depths of the cañon. She was glad of this, and felt a slight compunction over the fact that she had seldom thought of him 256 of late. Still, when she saw him bearing the marks of those months of effort on his body and in his worn face, she was sensible that she shrank from him, as she had once done from the dreary, dripping wilderness. This was disconcerting, but she could not drive out the feeling. His worn face vaguely troubled her, and she was sorry for him, but she would not have liked to touch his scarred and roughened hands. She glanced at the injured hand inquiringly.
“It is almost well again. It was crushed beneath a mass of timber,” he told her briefly.
Conscious that the meeting so far left a good deal to be desired, Violet sat still a moment. It certainly had not afforded her the pleasure she might reasonably have expected, and she subconsciously resented the fact. There was also, as she noticed, a suggestion of uneasiness in the man’s scarred face.
“I have been in Victoria a few days,” he explained. “There was a machine I had to buy, and one or two other matters had to be attended to. Then I got a letter forwarded from Waynefleet’s ranch, from which it appeared that Mr. Acton wished to see me.”
A faint sparkle crept into Violet Hamilton’s eyes. “It is evident,” she observed, “that we both find it a little difficult to say the right thing.”
“I’m afraid I am now and then a little remiss in that respect. Still, how have I offended?”
Violet contrived to smile. “I’m not sure it was particularly judicious of you to explain so fully what brought you here. Couldn’t you have left me to suggest another reason that would have been a little more satisfactory?”
Nasmyth laughed. “My dear, you know I have been longing to see you.”