Crestwick produced a packet of letters which he had not opened yet and Lisle glanced at two business communications. The boulder kept off most of the snow, and the glare of the snapping branches, rising and falling with the gusts, supplied sufficient light.
“Mine’s from Bella; there’s news in it,” Crestwick remarked. “She says Carew—I don’t think you’ve seen him—is anxious to marry her, and if she’s convinced that I’m getting on satisfactorily, she’ll probably agree. He’s—I’m quoting—about as good as she’s likely to get; that’s Bella all over.”
“What’s he like?” Lisle asked with interest.
“To tell the truth, in one way I think she’s right—the man’s straight; not the Marple crowd’s style. In fact, I found him decidedly stand-offish, though I’ll own there might have been a reason for that. Anyhow, I’m glad; she might have done a good deal worse. I suppose you won’t mind giving me a testimonial that will set her doubts at rest?”
“You shall have it. Since the man’s a good one, I’m nearly as glad as you are. I’ve a strong respect for your sister; she stood by you pluckily.”
“That’s true,” asserted Crestwick. “I was a bit of an imbecile, and she’s really hard to beat. She says if the life here’s too tough for me I’m to come back and live with them. That’s considerate, because in a way she can’t want me, though I haven’t the least doubt she’d make Carew put up with my company. It decides the question—I’m not going.”
“A little while ago you’d have taken Carew’s delight for granted, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m beginning to see things,” Crestwick answered with a wave of his hand. Then he paused and looked confused. “After all, though she says I’m to give you the message, Bella really goes too far now and then.”
“She doesn’t always mean it. You may as well obey her.”
“It’s this—if it’s any consolation, she has no intention of forgetting you, and Arthur—that’s the fellow’s name—is anxious to make your acquaintance. She says there are men who’re not so unresponsive as you are, but Arthur has never been into the North to get frozen.”