“It can’t reflect upon her, unless you talk about it, and both you and Mrs. Chisholm have sense enough to refrain from doing so,” he answered dryly. “I can’t flatter myself that Evelyn will grieve over me.” Then his manner changed. “Now we’ll get down to business. I don’t purpose to call that loan in, which will, no doubt, be a relief to you.”
He rose leisurely and, strolling out of the room, met Carroll shortly afterwards in the hall. The latter glanced at him sharply.
“What have you been doing?” he inquired. “There’s a look I seem to remember in your eye.”
“I suppose I’ve been outraging the rules of decency, but I don’t feel ashamed. I’ve been acting the uncivilised Westerner, though it’s possible that I rather strained the part. To come to the point, however, we pull out for the Dominion first thing to-morrow.”
Carroll asked no further questions. He did not think it would serve any purpose, and he contented himself with making arrangements for their departure, which they took early on the morrow. Vane had a brief interview with Mabel, who shed some tears over him, and then by her contrivance secured a word or two with Evelyn alone.
“Now,” he said, “it’s possible that you may hear some hard things of me, and I count upon your not contradicting them. After all, I think you owe me that favour. There’s just another matter—as I won’t be here to trouble you, try to think of me leniently.”
He held her hand for a moment and then turned away, and a few minutes later he and Carroll left the Dene.
[CHAPTER XII—VANE GROWS RESTLESS.]
Vane had been back in Vancouver a fortnight when he sat one evening on the verandah of Nairn’s house in company with his host and Carroll, lazily looking down upon the inlet.
Nairn referred to one of the papers in his hand.