In the meanwhile, Lisle had been talking to Millicent. She had already made a marked impression on him, for in the wilds the man had acquired a swift and true insight into character. One has time to think in the lonely places where, since life itself often depends upon their accuracy, a man’s perceptions grow keen, and though some of the minor complexities and subtleties of modern civilization might have puzzled him he was seldom mistaken in essentials.
He liked her direct and calmly searching gaze; he liked her voice which, while soft and pleasant, had a trace of gravity in it. He knew that her fine carriage was a sign of physical vigor and he recognized how it had been gained by the clear, warm tinting of her slightly sun-darkened skin. But, apart from this and her comeliness, which was marked, there was that in her personality which spoke of evenness and depth of character. She was steadfast, not lightly to be swayed from a resolve, he thought.
“Nasmyth has often spoken about you,” she told him. “I understand it was chiefly by your help that he succeeded in reaching the scene of my brother’s death. I want to thank you for that.”
Her voice was quiet, but it did not betoken indifference; he knew that she was not one to forget. He could not think of any apposite answer, but she saw the sympathy in his eyes and it pleased her more than words would have done.
“It was a relief to me that Nasmyth made that journey,” she went on. “I wanted to learn everything that could be known—instead of shrinking from it. You see, I had a great faith in my brother.”
“He deserved it,” Lisle declared warmly. “I have gathered enough to convince me of that!”
“Thank you! Clarence was not in a condition to notice anything very clearly during his journey, and I think what he suffered blunted his recollection. Besides, the subject is a distressing one to him, and it is seldom he can be induced to speak about it. Perhaps that is a pity; I find it does not always save one trouble in the end to avoid a little immediate pain.”
Lisle was gratified. She had spoken so unrestrainedly, though he imagined that it was a somewhat unusual thing for her to take a stranger into her confidence.
“Yes,” he replied; “I think that’s very true. It’s better to face it and get it over. The wound sooner heals.”
She smiled rather wistfully and changed the subject.