At last, however, there was a thud of horsehoofs in the orchard, and a man rode out from among the trees, but Miss Deringham, who had risen with a smile, shut the fingers of one hand a trifle viciously when she saw that it was not Alton. The man sat loosely in his saddle, and his face was a trifle flushed when he pulled the horse up.

"Is Harry Alton anywhere around, miss?" he said, and the girl noticed that his voice was uneven.

"He may be here presently," she said. "I don't know where he is."

"I've a long way to ride, and can't wait for him," said the man, swaying a little as he gathered up the bridle. "There seems to be nobody around the place, and when he comes you might tell him to go up to Townshead's as soon as he can. Miss Nellie's wanting to see him, and it's Thursday."

"Thursday?" said Miss Deringham.

"Yes," said the man. "Harry will understand. There was some more about it, but I've forgotten it. Well, you'll tell him. I must be getting on."

He lurched when the horse started, and though most men are abstemious in that country, Alice Deringham decided that he was under the influence of alcohol. She also felt distinctly displeased with him for bringing his message before she and Alton had set out for the lake. It was a favourable afternoon for fishing, and not pleasant to reflect that her amusement must be deferred at the bidding of the girl from the ranch. Then she decided that as Alton would not have received the message had he come when she expected him, it would not make any great difference if he did not hear it until their return. Miss Deringham did not remember by what reasoning she arrived at that result, but it seemed to her distinctly more fitting that Miss Townshead should be the one to wait.

Ten minutes later Alton rode up at a gallop. "Sorry I couldn't come before, but I was over at Thomson's borrowing a new trolling spoon," he said. "Jimmy's too slow for anything, and I had to look at a span of oxen he'd been buying."

"It seems to me that leisureliness is a characteristic of the country,"

said the girl.

Alton glanced at her with a faint twinkle in his eyes. "Now if you feel vexed with me, look at the horse," said he. "Anyway, the canoe's ready and the lake all rippling, and I've one of the new flight-hook spoons."

Miss Deringham, who saw the spume upon the bit and the horse's whitened sides, smiled graciously, and decided that Nellie Townshead's message could very well wait until the evening.

"I will be ready in about five minutes," she said.

She kept the man waiting twenty, possibly because she believed it would be a salutary discipline, and was not displeased to notice that he stamped impatiently up and down. Then she went down with him to the lake, and it was dusk when they returned with several fine trout, in the state of content with each other which occasionally characterizes comrades in a successful angling expedition. They had also so much to talk about that Miss Deringham completely forgot the message, and her pleasure was only dissipated when she met her father alone for a minute. His pose expressed dejection and indecision as he came towards her along the verandah.

"You do not look well," she said.

"That," said Deringham dryly, "is quite possible. Things are not going well with me just now."

"Business worries?" said the girl.

Deringham nodded. "And domestic too, if the affairs of Carnaby come under that heading. In fact, I am hemmed in by difficulties I cannot see a way through, and to make it worse Alton will come to no decision until he has sent somebody over to report upon the property. I have wondered now and then if he was talking altogether at random when he told you that he was willing to give it you."

"Of course!" said his daughter, smiling outwardly to cover her indignation. "It would be preposterous to think that I could accept such a favour even if he had the slightest intention of relinquishing his claim!"

"Yes," said Deringham dryly. "Still, I fancy there are young women who would not disdain to be mistress of Carnaby."

The girl straightened herself a little, and the colour crept into her face. "Do not be foolish, father. You cannot fancy that the man was speaking seriously."

"I don't know," said Deringham. "I am not sure that he does himself, and if you do not, there is an end of the affair. Still, if there had been anything in the speech the possibility alluded to would have lifted a great load from me."

He said nothing further, but passed on, leaving the girl standing on the verandah with head bent a trifle, and a face that was less cold in colouring than usual. Presently, however, she stood upright suddenly as Alton came up the stairway, but not before he had seen her. After a swift glance at her he put his hand gently on her shoulder.

"You are in some trouble. Can't you tell me what it is?" he said.

Alice Deringham could just see his face in the moonlight, and it was gravely compassionate, but there was in it, none of the personal admiration she had sometimes noticed there, which had its effect upon her attitude towards him. He was, she felt, sorry for her because she was a woman menaced by some difficulty, and that she should be an object of pity to this bush rancher stung the pride, of which she had a good deal. Had he tendered his sympathy because she was Alice Deringham it is possible that she would have told him something, though not exactly the simple state of the case. As it was, however, she shook his hand off, and looked at him with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Why should you suppose that, and venture to presume upon it?" she said.

"Would it be presuming?"

"It would," said the girl very coldly.

"Then," said Alton, "you can't tell me?"

"No, of course not. Is there any reason why I should?"

Here at least was an opportunity, but if the man desired to gain his companion's confidence he made an indifferent use of it. "We are some kind of relations, and you promised to be friends with me," he said.

Miss Deringham laughed a little. "One seldom tells one's troubles to one's friends," she said.

Alton seemed to sigh. "Then there is nothing I can do?"

"Yes," said Miss Deringham. "People are usually best alone when they have to grapple with a difficulty."

Alton still lingered a moment. "If you don't want to tell me, I don't know how to make you, and I'm sorry, because I might fix the thing up,"

he said gravely. "Well, I'm going, but it hurts me to see anything worrying you, and know that somebody else has brought it upon you."

"How could you know that?" said the girl.

The man smiled a little. "It's quite simple," said he, "You are too good and kind to bring sorrow upon yourself or anybody."

This was much better, but it was over-late now, and, for the girl said nothing, he moved away, and presently met Seaforth as he strode down the trail.

"Hallo!" said the latter. "Where are you going, Harry?"

"I know where you can go," said Alton grimly, "and that's right away to the devil."

Seaforth laughed a little. "And that's the woman's work. It's a pity Harry can't distinguish between paste and diamonds," said he.

It happened about this time that Miss Townshead sat in an attitude of expectancy in her father's house. Townshead, still wearing the red velvet jacket, sat in the old leather chair, with the resignation of the incapable stamped upon him, and the cigar and cup of coffee close by. His attitude seemed to imply that he was a very ill-used man, but had discovered that it was no use protesting. He sipped his coffee delicately, and then glanced towards his daughter with a trace of irritation.

"I wish you could keep still, my dear," he said. "There is an inquietude in your very pose that unsettles me, and with a little fortitude one can get used to anything. For instance, if anybody had told me five years ago that I could take my after-dinner coffee without a slight flavour of old cognac I should not have believed them."

Nellie Townshead evinced a little impatience. "It might be slightly more difficult to dispense with the dinner, as well as the coffee, and that is what we shall probably have to do presently," said she. "Why did you borrow that money from Mr. Hallam, father? Any one could have seen that he was a rascal, and I believe that Mr. Seaforth warned you."

Townshead sighed. "The difficulty," he said, "is to arrive at a correct decision before one knows what will happen. Afterwards, it is comparatively easy. It appeared desirable to buy some cattle, and that I should visit Victoria, where I made an unfortunate speculation, to recuperate after my last attack. During my absence Jack, as you will remember, lost some of the cattle and mismanaged the ranch. Mr.

Seaforth is also a young man who occasionally takes too much upon himself."

The girl flushed a little. "Jack worked from morning to night, and if we had spent a few dollars hiring somebody to help him, it would have been better for all of us," she said. "That, however, is not the question. What are we to do when we are turned out of the ranch, as we shall be very shortly?"

"There is," said Townshead, "no use in anticipating unpleasant probabilities. We will in the first place go down to Vancouver, where I fancy you will be able to earn a moderate sum by typewriting. The use of the instrument is, I understand, readily acquired, and while I regret the necessity for a daughter of mine to follow such an occupation, the emolument appears to be reasonable."

Nellie Townshead smiled somewhat bitterly, for the fact that she had ridden after straying cattle, and done a good many things that women do not usually undertake upon the ranch, had apparently escaped her father's attention.

"But is there anything you could do in Vancouver? You have no great knowledge of business," she said.

Townshead smiled wryly. "It is," he said, "a pity that I have so much, because on the two occasions I took an interest in it I lost a good deal of money. There is nothing for me to do here, at least. I cannot chop big trees."