"What was that sermon, mother, at Mullin that time upon the words 'Will ye also go away?' you remember?" at length asked Shock cunningly.

His mother sighed. "Ay, and that was a sairmon to draw the heart out o'

you. That was the melting day, while the big men gripped their sticks hard and the women wiped at their eyes that would never be done running, and that man's voice soughing over them like the wind in the pines in the evening, Yes! yes! But," suddenly recalling herself, "come, lads, you must be off to your books."

The young men sat a few moments silently gazing into the fire, and then Brown rose and said, "Good-night, mother. You're the greatest preacher I know, and I would not mind a whole hour from you." His voice was earnest and his eyes soft and tender as he stooped and kissed her cheek.

"Good-night, laddie," answered Mrs. Macgregor, patting his hand gently.

"I doubt, after all, the fault nowadays is not with the preaching so much as with the hearing."

"Well, I'm off. You will see me to-morrow with my flock of straying sheep. But I warn you that after you hear that man from the West you will all be volunteering as missionaries."

The old lady took up her knitting again and after the door had closed upon Brown sat back in her chair with a weary sigh.

"You're tired to-night, mother," said Shock gently.

"Tired? And what for would I be tired? No, no, but the day is long."

"Yes, some days, mother. But the longest pa.s.s."

She glanced quickly at her son, but save for a quivering of the lips usually so firm, there was no sign of the pain which both knew lay at the heart of each. Her mood of impatience had pa.s.sed. She was once more herself, calm and strong, looking with steadfast eyes into the future, knowing well that whatever the days might bring, He who for fifty years had been her refuge and her strength would not fail her.

The appeal for the West was the theme of conversation at the Fairbanks home, where the usual company had a.s.sembled. The Don was describing the Superintendent's address at the College and thrilling his listeners with his own enthusiasm, when Brown entered.

"h.e.l.lo! At it again?" cried Brown. "If he doesn't avoid that fiery cross fellow, The Don will be off for the West first thing you know."

"Tell us," cried Betty, "was he as great as all that? Mr. Balfour here would have us believe that this Western man is really something wonderful."

"Well, I don't know," said Brown. "You never think of whether he is wonderful or not, but one thing I know, he makes you see things--the mountains and that foot-hill country, the mining camps and all that saloon and gambling-h.e.l.l business, till you can smell the brimstone and you want to be in it."

"What? Into the brimstone?" laughed Lloyd.

"I am rather incoherent, I confess. But that old chap suits me. If I were a Theologue, and unattached, I'd be there."

"There's no doubt it is a great country, with vast opportunities," said The Don, glancing at Betty.

"Yes," said Mrs. Fairbanks, frowning as she noted the glance, "and doubtless any young man who has the necessary enterprise and courage will make his fortune with the growth of that country."

"But why unattached? What do you mean by that?" enquired Betty.

"Unattached? Why, you know, just like me--a man with no family ties to speak of. Did you tell them that yarn, Lloyd? Well, I'll tell you. You know the Superintendent was telling the fellows of the difficulty he had in securing men. Well, he managed to get a man from an Eastern College whom he appointed to the Cariboo--right sort of chap, too, apparently--accepted the appointment--everything was arranged--happened, however, he was engaged to a young lady brought up in the lap of luxury, and that sort of thing. When she heard of her young man being appointed to this outlandish place, she promptly collapsed into a faint, sister went into hysterics, mother into a blind rage, result--young man resigned. 'So you see, gentlemen,' said the old chap dryly, 'when you have to consider the tastes and temperament, not only of the young man, but of his young lady and of all her near family relatives, the difficulty of securing men for the West is sensibly increased."

"I think that is just horrid of him," exclaimed Betty indignantly. "The young lady ought to be consulted. Don't you think so?" turning to Lloyd.

"Why certainly, and yet--"

"Most a.s.suredly," said Mrs. Fairbanks. "Would you ask a young lady to go out and bury herself alive in such a country as that, or ask her to wait an indefinite number of years till the young man should return?

Why it is simply monstrous." And Mrs. Fairbanks fixed her gla.s.ses firmly on her nose and gazed at Brown as if she would annihilate him.

"Why certainly I would," replied Brown, quite unabashed; "and if she loved me," placing his hand over his heart, "she would be glad to do either. I would simply remark, 'My love, I'm off for Greenland.' 'Wait, my dear,' she would promptly reply, 'till I get my furs.'"

"All the same," said Lloyd seriously, "it would be a terrible life for any woman, and a man should hesitate before asking her to share it."

"No society, nothing congenial in environment! Quite impossible!"

exclaimed Mrs. Fairbanks with great emphasis. "And quite absurd to dream of it."

"Then," replied Brown warmly to Lloyd, "the only available men for your Chief, apparently, are hopeless old bachelors or young men, however worthy like myself, who are still unappropriated."

"Exactly," said Mrs. Fairbanks with an air of finality.

"But, Mrs. Fairbanks," exclaimed The Don, "what of our soldiers and officers who go to India and other outlandish places? They take their wives along with them, I understand?"

"That's quite a different thing, Mr. Balfour," said Mrs. Fairbanks.

"These men go out to serve their Queen and country, and it is recognised as the proper thing, and--well, you see, it is quite different."

"I must say," exclaimed Helen, fastening to forestall the hot answer she knew to be at The Don's lips, "I agree with Mr. Brown. If a man's work calls him to Greenland, his wife ought to go with him or she ought to be willing to wait his return."

"Helen, you speak like a sentimental school-girl," replied Mrs.

Fairbanks with a touch of haughty scorn. "Of course if a man is married and duty calls him to a foreign land, he must go. But why should a girl throw away her prospects and condemn herself to a life of obscurity and isolation by attaching herself to a man who chooses to take up some fantastic mission in some outlandish place or other?"

"Why? Because she loves a man whose duty calls him there," exclaimed Helen, her grey eyes glowing.

"Bravo!" replied Brown. "If I see a Western missionary wanting a helpmeet--that's the proper word, I believe--I shall know where to send him."

"Nonsense," cried Mrs. Fairbanks quite crossly, "but surely we need not discuss the question any further."

"Well, if I may offer an opinion," said The Don in a deliberate, strained voice, "that country is the place for men with enterprise who believe in themselves, and I think no man is throwing his prospects away who identifies himself with it--nor woman either, for that matter.

And what is true of other professions ought to be true of the ministry."

"I agree," cried Brown, adding wickedly, "just the spot for you, Lloyd."

"Why, I should like nothing better," said Lloyd, "if circ.u.mstances indicated that my work lay there."

"Well, well, what's come to you all?" cried Mrs. Fairbanks, holding up her jewelled hands in despair.

"The Occidental microbe," suggested Brown.

"And the monumental nonsense it is," said Mrs. Fairbanks, "for men of high culture and special training to lose themselves in such a country as that."

"But," persisted Brown, "they say that that's the very place for such men. Why, that country is full of high-cla.s.s chaps--University grads, Lords, Dukes, and such, as well as the professional gambler, and other highly technical experts. The Superintendent declared to-night he wouldn't have any but high-cla.s.s men hence, Lloyd!" and Brown waved his hand toward that gentleman.

"I have no doubt," said Mrs. Fairbanks with severe deliberation, "that Mr. Lloyd has the good sense to perceive that his special training fits him for something quite different, and I think he will not be mad enough to throw away his brilliant prospects in any such silly manner.

But come, let us have some music. Mr. Lloyd, you and Betty sing something for us."

As they moved to the piano, Brown looked up at The Don. His handsome, haughty face was set hard and in his eyes burned a light that Brown had often seen there on the football field.

"He's going to tackle and tackle hard, too, poor old chap. Not much chance, though, against that combination of Church and State."

"Oh, that we two were Maying," sang Lloyd in his fine tenor voice, with Betty responding in like sentiment.