CHAPTER XIV

THE COMPACT

After the first meeting of the Somasco Consolidated, Alton was frequently absent from the ranch, and spent most of the nights shut up with bulky books, while he also apparently became involved in an extensive correspondence with the cities.  There were, however, times when Miss Deringham surprised him standing still and gazing into vacancy, which was distinctly unusual with him, but the girl, who had once or twice noticed his eyes fixed upon her and signs of an inward conflict in his face, was not displeased.  She could arrive at a tolerably accurate deduction as well as most young women.

In the meanwhile Seaforth had gone down to Vancouver, and Deringham still appeared content to linger at Somasco.  He had, his daughter knew, been ordered a lengthy rest, and it was evident that the tranquillity of the mountain ranch was benefiting him physically, though now and then the girl noticed that his face was anxious when communications from England reached him.  She was also, for no reason she was willing to admit, content to remain a little longer at Somasco.

One night when she was sitting meditatively in the room set apart for her use, Alton passed the half-opened door, and noticing the curious slowness of his pace she signed him to enter.  She had, somewhat to the indignation of Mrs. Margery, taken the room in hand, and with the aid of a few sundries surreptitiously brought from Vancouver with Seaforth’s connivance, made a transformation in its aspect.  A red curtain hung behind the door.  There were a few fine furs which Seaforth had collected here and there about the ranch upon the floor, and Alton, who had just returned from a ride of forty miles through the mire and rain, stopped a moment upon the threshold.  He was a man of quick perceptions, and all he saw seemed stamped with the personality of its occupant.

It was dainty, and essentially feminine, and he became, for perhaps the first time, uneasily conscious of his own solid masculine proportions and bespattered garments as he glanced deprecatingly at the girl.  She lay with lithe gracefulness in a basket chair, very collected and very pretty, while he dimly understood that the fact that she did not move but only smiled at him implied a good deal.  A brightness flashed into his eyes and sank out of them again.

“Come in and sit down,” she said, “I have seen very little of you lately, and you seem tired.  Half-an-hour’s casual chatter will do you no harm, although it may appear to you a terrible waste of time.”

Alton came in and dropped into a chair which creaked beneath him.  His face was somewhat weary, and the girl noticed the stiffness of his movements.  He also looked about him with a curious expression which seemed to suggest reverence in his eyes.

“No,” he said gravely, “it wouldn’t be a waste of time.”