THE TRAGEDIES OF LOVE
When the week had fled Dr. Brown could hardly persuade himself and his hosts at Lakeside Farm that the time had come for his departure to the coast. Not since he had settled down to the practice of his profession at Winnipeg more than twenty years ago had such a holiday been his. Alberta, its climate, its life of large spaces and far visions, its hospitable people, had got hold of him by so strong a grip that in parting he vowed that he would not await an opportunity but make one to repeat his visit to the ranch. And so he departed with the understanding that Jane should follow him to Banff ten days later with her friend Nora.
The ten days were to Jane as a radiant, swiftly moving dream. Yet with so much to gratify her, one wish had remained ungratified. Though from early morning until late night she had ridden the ranges now with one and now with another, but for the most part with Larry, Jane had never “done the mine.”
“And I just know I shall go away without seeing that mine, and Winnipeg people will be sure to ask me about it, and what shall I say? And I have never seen that wonderful secretary, Mr. Switzer, either.”
“To-morrow,” said Larry solemnly, “no matter what happens we shall have you see that mine and the wonderful Mr. Switzer.”
It was the seeing of Mr. Switzer that brought to Jane the only touch of tragedy to the perfect joy of her visit to Alberta. Upon arrival at the mine she was given over by Larry to Mr. Switzer's courteous and intelligent guidance, and with an enthusiasm that never wearied, her guide left nothing of the mine outside or in, to which with painstaking minuteness he failed to call her attention. It was with no small degree of pride that Mr. Switzer explained all that had been accomplished during the brief ten weeks during which the mine had been under his care. For although it was quite true that Mr. Steinberg was the manager, Switzer left no doubt in Jane's mind, as there was none in his own, that the mine owed its present state of development to his driving energy and to his organising ability. Jane readily forgave him his evident pride in himself as he exclaimed, sweeping his hand toward the little village that lay along the coolee,
“Ten weeks ago, Miss Brown, there was nothing here but a little black hole in the hillside over there. To-day look at it. We have a company organised, a village built and equipped with modern improvements, water, light, drainage, etc. We are actually digging and shipping coal. It is all very small as yet, but it is something to feel that a beginning has been made.”
“I think it is really quite a remarkable achievement, Mr. Switzer. And I feel sure that I do not begin to know all that this means. They all say that you have accomplished great things in the short time you have been at work.”
“We are only beginning,” said Switzer again, “but I believe we shall have a great mine. It will be a good thing—for the Gwynnes, I mean—and that is worth while. Of course, my own money is invested here too and I am working for myself, but I assure you that I chiefly think of them. It is a joy, Miss Brown, to work for those you love.”
“It is,” replied Jane, slightly puzzled at this altruistic point of view; “The Gwynnes are dear people and I am glad for their sakes. I love them.”