"No! It was only finally decided last night; though from the beginning of the excursion it has been contemplated. Sir James is making notes of his journey which I am to supplement. I believe he has an idea of bringing out a book describing the journey!"
"Which you are to write, I suppose?" laughed the girl.
"Well," countered the man also laughing, "I am to act as amanuensis. And after all you know I am in the service of the Company, whose fortunes Sir James directs."
"He may direct them," answered the girl lightly, "but it is other men who carry them—the men of the wilds who bring the furs to the posts, and the traders who live in isolation from year's end to year's end. You must not take my uncle quite so seriously as he takes himself, Mr. Ainley."
Gerald Ainley smiled. "You forget, Miss Yardely, he can make or break a man who is in the Company's service."
"Perhaps!" laughed the girl. "Though if I were a man I should not so easily be made or broken by another. I should make myself and see that none broke me." She paused as if waiting for an answer, then as her companion continued silent, abruptly changed the topic. "By the by, I see that your acquaintance of other days has removed himself!"
"Yes," answered Ainley, "I noticed that."
"He must have gone in the night."
"Yes," was the reply. "I suppose he folded his tent like the Arabs and as silently stole away."
"I daresay the meeting with an old acquaintance was distasteful to him."