"Why don't you go and see the cows with father and the other man?" she asked.
Jordan laughed, but he looked at Eleanor. "Well," he said, "for one thing, I guess it's a good deal nicer here."
Miss Wheelock met his glance with a directness which, had his disposition and training been different, he might have found disconcerting. She was, like himself, absolutely devoid of affectation, and he felt that she was quietly making an estimate of him. Still, there was not a great deal in his character that he had occasion to hide from any one, and the evident sincerity of his observation was in itself an excuse for it. It was characteristic of the girl that she let it pass, not with the obvious intention of ignoring it because that appeared advisable, but as though she had never heard it. When a thing did not appeal to Eleanor Wheelock, she simply brushed it aside.
"Have you met the Miss Merril Jimmy mentioned?" she asked. "I almost fancy she is the girl I used to see now and then when I was in Toronto. What is she like?"
Jordan, who had met Anthea Merril in Vancouver, told her as well as he was able, and Eleanor's lips set in a straight line.
"One could fancy you were not fond of Miss Merril," he said.
"I have never spoken to her; but I have no great reason to feel well-disposed toward anybody of that family."
"Ah!" said Jordan; "that means Jimmy has told you what Merril is doing. I'm no friend of that man's either, but I'm not quite sure one could reasonably hold the girl responsible for her father."
"Especially when she's pretty? Still, she is his daughter, and must be like him in some respects."
Jordan's eyes twinkled. "Do you consider yourself like your father?"