The Girl from Keller's Part 11

Miss Jardine descended with some help from both, and Festing dropped safely on the gravel. He leaned against the rock to get his breath, and Helen turned to him with a twinkle.

"You doubted my nerve once. I suppose that was why you didn't let go."

"I'm sometimes dull," said Festing. "Just now, however, I wanted to make certain I could help you back."

Helen laughed. "Well, I dare say you could have lifted me, but it would have been simpler to lower me your coat."

They went down the gully, where jambed stones made rude steps, and reaching the bottom found a belt of gra.s.s that led them to the head of a dale. The mist was thinner, and presently a few scattered houses appeared across the fields. The path they followed forked, and Helen stopped at the turning.

"The hotel is yonder to the right," she said. "We are going to the hall, where they sometimes take people in."

Festing remembered that Muriel had indicated the hall, which he understood was a well-built farm, as his stopping place. He wanted to go there, but thought there was some risk of its looking as if he meant to force his society on the girls. He took the path Helen indicated, and when he had gone some distance, stopped, hesitated, and then went on.

The girls noted this and Miss Jardine said: "I suppose he remembered that he has my sack, or else his heart failed him."

Helen looked at her in surprise. "Did you forget?"

"I did not," Miss Jardine admitted. "I thought I wouldn't spoil the plot. It looked as if he wanted an excuse for meeting us again, but I think I wronged him. That sudden stop was genuine."

"The sack is yours," said Helen dryly. "But you will need the things inside."

"I imagine I will get them before long, although it doesn't seem to have struck him that my clothes are damp. It's rather significant that he went on when he could have run across the field and caught us up. Have you known him long?"

"I met him once," said Helen with an impatient frown.

"Rather a good type," Miss Jardine remarked. "I think I should like Canadians, if they're all like that."

"He isn't a Canadian."

"Then he hasn't been in England for some time, and so far as my knowledge goes, men like variety. Of course, to some extent, he saw us under a disadvantage. Mountaineering clothes are comfortable, but one can't say much more."

"Don't be ridiculous," Helen rejoined and went on across the field.

CHAPTER VIII

A DEBT OF GRAt.i.tUDE

After dinner Festing walked across the fields to the farm. It was raining and a cold wind swept the dale, but a fire burned in the room into which he was shown and the curtains were drawn. Helen and Miss Jardine got up when he came in and put the rucksack on the table.

"I'm sorry I forgot this until I'd gone some distance," he said. "Then I couldn't find anybody to send with it."

"No doubt you wanted your dinner," Miss Jardine suggested.

Festing saw that she wore a different dress that looked rather large.

"No," he said, "it wasn't the dinner that stopped me. Besides, it didn't strike me that--"

"That I might need my clothes? Well, I don't suppose it would strike you; but since you have come across in the rain, won't you stop?"

Festing found an old leather chair, and sitting down, looked about with a sense of satisfaction, for the fire was cheerful after the raw cold outside. The room was large and old-fashioned, with heavy beams across the low ceiling. There was a tall clock, and a big, black oak chest; curled ram's horns and bra.s.s candlesticks twinkled on the mantel; an old copper kettle threw back red reflections near the fire. His companions occupied opposite sides of a large sheepskin rug, and he felt that both had charm, though they were different. The contrast added something to the charm.

Miss Jardine's skin was a pure white; her hair and eyes were nearly black, and she had a sparkling, and perhaps rather daring, humor.

Helen's colors were rose and cream, her hair changed from warm brown to gold as it caught the light, and her eyes were calm and gray. She was younger than the other and he thought her smile delightful, but, as a rule, she was marked by a certain gravity. Her wide brows and the firm lines of her mouth and nose hinted at pride and resolution.

"I hope your foot is better," he said to Miss Jardine.

"Yes, thanks. It mainly needed rest, and I must confess that I didn't find it altogether a drawback when we stopped at the bottom of the big crag. I should have had to go up if I hadn't been lame."

"You were not disappointed because you couldn't reach the top?"

Miss Jardine laughed. "Helen was. She makes it a rule to accomplish what she undertakes. I wasn't disappointed then, though I am now. Perhaps one really enjoys mountaineering best afterwards. You like to think how adventurous you have been, but it's sometimes difficult while the adventure's going on."

"That's true," Festing agreed. "Still you feel sorry if, as we say, you are unable to put the thing over."

Helen gave him a sympathetic smile. "Yes; one feels that."

"It depends upon one's temperament," Miss Jardine objected. "I know my limits, though Helen does not know hers. When I can't get what I'm out for, I'm satisfied with less. One can't always have the best."

"It's worth trying for, anyway," Festing replied.

He was afraid this sounded priggish. Miss Jardine got up.

"Well, I'm not much of a philosopher and had better put out some of the clothes you brought to dry, although it was thoughtful of you to throw your bag into the bog instead of mine."

"That was an accident," Festing declared. "I meant to throw them both across."

Miss Jardine picked up the sack. "There's n.o.body else here and a wet evening's dreary. I hope you won't go before I come back."

"I won't," said Festing. "They have only a deaf tourist and two tired climbers, who seem sleepy and bad-tempered, at the hotel."

Miss Jardine's eyes twinkled. "Well," she said as she went out, "I suppose it's a fair retort."

Festing colored and looked at Helen apologetically. "You see, I have lived in the woods."

"I expect that has some advantages," said Helen, who liked his frank embarra.s.sment. "However, it was lucky I met you to-day. You didn't come back to see us, and there is something----" She hesitated and then gave him a steady glance. "You are not so much a stranger to us as you imagine."

Festing wondered what she meant and whether she knew about the portrait, but she resumed: "As a matter of fact, my mother and I felt that we knew you rather well."

"I don't understand."

"Some time since, you found a young Englishmen in a Western mining town.

He had been ill and things had gone against him."

"Ah," said Festing sharply. "Of course! I ought to have known----He looked like you. I mean I ought to have known the name. Was he a relative?"

"My brother," Helen replied.