Evelyn noticed that Jessie laid some stress upon her acquaintance with Vane, and wondered if she had any motive for doing so.
“I suppose you have known him for some time,” she said.
“Oh, yes,” was the careless answer. “My brother was one of the first to take him up when he came to Vancouver.”
The phrase jarred on Evelyn. It savoured of patronage; besides, she did not like to think that Vane owed anything to the Horsfields.
“Though I don’t know much about it, I understood they were opposed to each other,” she said coldly.
“Their business interests don’t coincide; but it doesn’t follow that they should disagree about anything else. My brother did all he could to dissuade Vane from going on with his search for the timber until the winter was over.”
“I think it is rather fine of him to persist in it,” Evelyn declared.
Jessie smiled, though she felt venomous just then. “Yes,” she agreed; “one undoubtedly feels that. Besides, the thing’s so characteristic of him; the man’s impulsively generous and not easily daunted. He possesses many of the rudimentary virtues, as well as some of the corresponding weaknesses, which is very much what one would look for.”
“What do you mean by that?” Evelyn inquired, suppressing her resentment. Though she was not prepared to pose as Vane’s advocate, she was conscious of a growing antagonism against her companion.
“It’s difficult to explain, and I don’t know that the subject’s worth discussing,” said Jessie. “However, what I think I meant was this—Vane’s of a type that’s not uncommon in the West, and it’s a type one finds interesting. He’s forcibly elementary, which is the only way I can express it; the restraints the rest of us submit to don’t bind him; he breaks through them.”