Since he had found his partner, he had realized how wide, in a social sense, was the difference between Alice Featherstone and a small Canadian lumber dealer, and had, with characteristic determination, resolved to bridge the gap.  This meant bold planning and strenuous effort, but he shrank from neither and meant his partner to help.  Lawrence, although resolute enough when things went against them, sometimes got slack when they were going well, and Foster understood that Lucy Stephen had money.  For all that, if Lawrence was unwilling to keep pace with him, he must be dragged.  Foster frowned as he put off matters that needed prompt attention until his return, and then sent a telegram and caught the next west-bound train.

When he got down at the flag station his annoyance returned.  If there was any ground for his being sent for, he ought to have been told, and if there was not, he had been caused a loss of time that could have been well employed.  He resolved to tell Lawrence his views upon this as he took the road to the hotel, but stopped with a beating heart when he entered the veranda.

Lawrence lounged negligently in a big chair and greeted him with a smile, but his father, Mrs. Featherstone, and Alice sat close by, with Mrs. Stephen and Lucy in the background.  It cost Foster something of an effort to preserve his calm, but he advanced to Mrs. Featherstone, who gave him a look of quiet gratitude that repaid him for much.  Featherstone welcomed him heartily, but with a touch of embarrassment, and then Foster thrilled as Alice gave him her hand.  There was a curious quiet confidence in her level glance, as if she meant that she had known his promise would be kept.  He did not remember what he said to Mrs. Stephen and Lucy, but was grateful to Lawrence, who laughed.

“I imagined you’d get something of a surprise, Jake.  In fact, when the train stopped I pictured you coming up the road as fast as you could, divided between anxiety and a determination to tell me what you thought.  Before that, when I got your curt telegram, I told Alice I could see you frowning as you filled up the form.”

“I didn’t know Miss Featherstone was here,” Foster replied awkwardly.

“That’s obvious,” Lawrence said, chuckling.  “Candor’s one of your virtues.  But what about the rest of us?”

Foster wished he had been more tactful and thought his comrade’s amusement might better have been restrained; but Lawrence resumed:  “It must have been annoying to leave the mill when you had much to do.  The curious thing is that when you set off from the Crossing with me you declared you were tired of working for dollars.”

“Mr. Foster’s tiredness didn’t prevent him from working for his friends,” Alice interposed.

“He must work, anyhow; that’s the kind of man he is, and I don’t suppose he was much disappointed when he got a strenuous holiday.”