The Girl from Keller's Part 2

In summer, Long Lake has no great beauty and shrinks, leaving a white saline crust on its wide margin of sun-baked mud, but it is a picturesque stretch of water when the snow melts in spring and the reflections of the birches quiver on the smooth belt along its windward edge. Farther out, the shadows of flying clouds chase each other across the flashing surface. Two or three leaky canoes generally lie among the trees, and in the afternoon Charnock dragged one down, and helping Sadie on board, paddled up the lake.

As they crept round a point flocks of ducks left the water and the air throbbed with a beat of wings that gradually died away. The fire, round which the others sat, was out of sight, and the rustle of the tossing birches emphasized the quietness. Charnock let the canoe drift, and Sadie looked up at him from her low seat among the wagon robes he had brought.

"What are you going to do about your farm?" she asked.

"I don't know yet, and don't see why I should bore you with my troubles."

"Pshaw!" said Sadie. "You want to put the thing off; but you know you can't."

Charnock made a gesture of humorous resignation. "Very well! I expect I won't be able to carry on the farm."

"No," said Sadie, thoughtfully, "I don't think you could. There are men who would be able, but not you."

"I dare say you're right, but you're not flattering," Charnock rejoined with a smile.

Sadie gave him a steady look. "Your trouble is you laugh when you ought to set your lips and get busy. One has got to hustle in Canada."

"I have hustled. In fact, it's hustling that has brought me low. If I hadn't spent my money trying to break fresh land, I wouldn't have been so deep in debt."

"And you'd have had more time to loaf about the settlement?"

"On the whole, I don't think that's kind. If I hadn't come to the settlement, I wouldn't have seen you, and that's about the only comfort I have left."

A touch of color crept into Sadie's face, but her thoughtful look did not change.

"Well," she said, "I'd surely have liked you to make good, and don't know that we mightn't have got the mortgage held over; but it wouldn't have been much use. You'd have started again and then got tired and not have stayed with it." She spread out her hands impatiently. "That's the kind of man you are!"

"I'm afraid it's true," Charnock admitted. "But I hope you like me all the same."

Sadie was silent for a few moments, but her color was higher and Charnock mused. He supposed she meant she could have persuaded her father to come to his help, and it looked as if she well knew his failings. Still he felt rather amused than resentful.

"We'll let that go," she resumed. "I want you to quit joking and listen.

We're going to have a boom at the settlement as soon as the railroad's opened, and I and the old man can hardly manage the store and hotel.

We've got to have help; somebody the boys like and we can trust. Well, if you took hold the right way----"

She stopped, but Charnock understood. Keller was often ill and was getting old. He could not carry on his rapidly extending business much longer, and Charnock might presently take his place. But this was not all, and he hesitated.

"Do you think I'm fit for the job?" he asked.

"You could do it if you tried."

Charnock smiled. "It's comforting to feel somebody trusts me, and I see advantages in the plan. You keep the books, I think. It's very nice in the little back office when the lamps are lit and the store is shut. We could make up the bills together."

Sadie blushed, and he thought he had not seen her look so attractive.

She was remarkably pretty, although there was now something about her that puzzled him. It was something elusive that acted like a barrier, keeping him away. Yet he knew the girl was fond of him; if he wanted her, he had but to ask, and it was not on this account he hesitated. He thought of a creeper-covered house in England; a house that had an air of quiet dignity. He remembered the old silver, the flowers in the shady rooms, and the pictures. The girl who moved about the rooms harmonized with her surroundings; her voice was low and clear, she had a touch of stateliness. Well, he was ruined, and she was far away, but Sadie was close by, waiting for him. For a moment he set his lips, and then, while his nerves tingled, banished the disturbing doubts.

Dropping the paddle, he leaned forward, put his hand on the girl's waist, and drew her towards him. He felt her yield, and heard her draw a fluttering breath. Her head drooped so that he could not see her face; she was slipping into his arms, and then, in the moment of surrender, he felt her body stiffen. She put her hands on his shoulder and pushed him back; the canoe lurched and he had some trouble to prevent a capsize.

The water splashed against the rocking craft, and Sadie, drawing away, fixed her eyes on him. She was breathless, but rather from emotion than effort.

"Don't do that again!" she said.

Charnock saw she meant it, which was strange. Sadie knew and sometimes used her power of attraction, but it was obvious that she was angry. It looked as if he had chosen the wrong moment, and he felt worse baffled and disappointed than he had thought possible.

"I won't," he said as carelessly as he could. "You nearly threw us both into the water."

"I guess that's what I meant to do," she answered fiercely.

"Well, I expect I'd have been able to pull you out. Suppose I ought to say I'm sorry; but I'm not. In fact, Sadie, I don't quite understand--"

"No," she said, "you don't understand at all! That's the trouble."

Charnock took out his tobacco pouch and began to make a cigarette.

Sadie's cold dignity was something new and he thought she could not keep it up. If she did not break out in pa.s.sionate anger, she would soon come round. As he finished the cigarette she turned to him with flashing eyes.

"Put that tobacco away or I'll throw it in the lake! Do you think you can kiss me when you like?"

"I wish I could," said Charnock. "As a matter of fact, I haven't kissed you yet. But I'm sorry if you're vexed."

For a moment Sadie hesitated and then fixed him with a fierce, scornful gaze.

"Oh," she said, "you're cheap, and you'd make me as cheap as you! You want things for nothing; they must be given, where other men would work and fight. But you can't amuse yourself by making love to me."

Charnock felt humiliated. If he had really offended her, she could have rebuked him with a look or sign. Her unnecessary frankness jarred.

"Very well; I must ask you to forget it. Of course, I was wrong, but I'll try not to vex you again. What are we going to do now?"

"Paddle back to the others as quick as you can."

Throwing his cigarette into the water, Charnock turned the canoe. It was a relief to be energetic, because Sadie's demand for speed stung him. He glanced at her now and then, but she gave no sign of relenting; her face was whiter than usual and her look was strained. Getting angry, he drove the canoe down the lake with a curling wave at her bow, until the paddle snapped in a savage stroke and he flung the haft away. For a moment, he hoped Sadie would laugh, but she did not.

"Now you'll have to paddle with your hands until you pick up the broken blade," she said.

Charnock did so and afterwards awkwardly propelled the craft towards the camp fire. He thought Sadie might have suggested their landing and walking back, but she was silent and calmly watched his clumsy efforts.

He was glad when they reached the beach where the others were and he helped her out. An hour or two later he drove her home, but she did not talk. Her anger had gone, but she seemed strangely distant. After helping her down at the hotel he waited a moment.

"Can't we make this up and be friends again?" he asked.

She gave him a curious steady glance. "Not now. It looks as if you didn't know me yet."

Then she left him, and Charnock drove home in a thoughtful mood. He had some idea about what she meant and had been rather surprised by the pride she had shown. Sadie had certainly led him on; but she was not altogether the girl he had thought.

CHAPTER III

KELLER INTERFERES

For two or three weeks after the picnic Charnock did not meet Sadie. The rebuff he had got did not rankle much, and was rather provocative than daunting, but he understood why she had told him he made her cheap. She meant to keep her caresses for her husband or declared lover, and if he wanted her, he must pay the regular price. This was very proper, from her point of view, but from his the price was high.