Then he remembered that he had meant to spend a week or two in London, and made his way towards a valley through which a railway ran.  Although he wanted to see Helen, he was half afraid, and imagined that the longer he waited the less risk he would run of his society jarring.  Next day he left the hills, but did not greatly enjoy his visit to town.  London was much like Montreal, where the buildings were as fine, only they did not dig up so many streets and fill the air with cement from the towering blocks of new offices.  The English liked permanence, while the Canadians altered their cities from day to day.  Besides he wanted to go back to the North as soon as it was prudent.

On the evening of his return it rained hard and he talked to Muriel in her drawing-room.  He liked Muriel Gardiner and she frankly enjoyed his society.  It did not matter that she sometimes seemed to find him amusing when he was serious.  A fire burned in the grate, for the summer evening was cold, his low chair was comfortable, and Muriel, holding a fan to shield her face, sat opposite in the soft light of a shaded lamp that left much of the room in shadow.  The circle of subdued illumination gave one a pleasant feeling of seclusion and made for mutual confidence, but Festing was silent for a time, thinking rather hard.

He was getting used to English comforts, which did not seem so enervating as he had imagined, but he could give them up, and would, indeed, be forced to do so when he occupied his prairie homestead.  A man could go without much that people in England required, and be the better for the self-denial, but it might be different for a girl.  Long habit might make comfort and artistic surroundings actual necessities.  It was, however, encouraging to remember Helen’s cheerfulness as she led him among the crags in the rain.  She had pluck and could bear fatigue and hardship.  Besides, there need not be much hardship after all.

Presently Muriel gave him a careless glance.  “Helen told me she met you in the hills and you came over to the hall where she and Alison Jardine stopped.  Now you have had an opportunity of correcting your first impression, what do you think of her?”

“What I have always thought,” Festing replied.

Muriel looked at him with surprise, and then laughed.  “Oh, yes; I remember you saw her portrait first.  Well, you have more imagination than I thought.  But I understand you didn’t see Helen again, although she and Alison went over part of the route I marked out for you.”

Festing thought her manner was too careless, and felt suspicious, but he said:  “I changed my plans.  I thought it might look significant if I overtook the girls.  One doesn’t expect an accident to happen twice.”

“Perhaps you did the proper thing.  But did you want to overtake them?”

“I did,” said Festing quietly.  “Still I felt I’d better not.”

Muriel was silent for a few moments, and then remarked:  “Self-denial such as you practised deserves a reward, and I met Mrs. Dalton while you were away.  She asked me to bring you over when you came back.  I suppose you know what she wants?”